#when... in reality she's barely an adult

[fumiko-matsubara]

Speaking of endangered children.

The last thing young Irina needs while currently suffering from post-war trauma, grief of her parents' passing, and the fact she had to kill a soldier and hide herself along with the corpse to survive, was to be trained to become a honey-pot assassin where she specifically uses her body and sexuality to get to her targets 💀

Which, by the way, she didn't really have a choice of since Lovro just had to give a traumatized child an ultimatum.

Like no wonder her concept of boundaries is pretty non-existent.

But that's probably just me speaking.

[stuworbutwithchipmunks]

I know ppl couldn't care less about the humans in the cgi movies but Zoe and Dr. Rubin were both hilarious characters and the more i rewatch the movies the more i think about that.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was in third grade I got Weird with writing. It makes sense in hindsight. Oppressed people find their own ways of carving out space for themselves.

The first bit I did landed me in trouble more immediately. I was given, god knows by who, one of those enormous giant pencils. I loved it. My tiny nine year old body was consumed with love of this pencil that was roughly 1/3 of my height. I insisted that I would only use this pencil in school.

It was an unlucky year to be stricken with whimsy. My third grade teacher was a tyrannical Japanese woman fueled by her dislike of children. I suspect the cultural divide between how she expected children to behave and the reality of American children broke her.

She was three foot nothing and getting berated by her was the first time I’d ever looked down at an adult. I also saw her once standing next to her white 6’ behemoth of a husband and tried to conceptualize how two such disparate people had sex. I never could.

If you think I’m exaggerating her wrath it’s worth noting that my best friend at the time developed a stress disorder from this woman and I fell into a bizarre stutter that cleared up the moment I was out of class. In her classroom breaking down crying was a weekly occurrence.

But despite the frigid conditions, I persevered. I stayed silly. I brought my enormous novelty pencil to class every day. It was an act of rebellion that I sank my teeth into and refused to let go. I could barely sharpen it because its girth defied standard sharpeners the way I defied my teacher. This was my pencil.

When she attempted to confiscate my giant pencil I rose an unholy ruckus. This would not turn into the confiscated holographic Charizard, my tamagotchi, or my little pop frogs that she never returned to me. No. This was my goddamn pencil. There was no rules against enormous novelty pencils and after a heated week of debate she finally conceded I could use the hated thing.

It was stolen by my kleptomaniac friend a week or so after that a fact I’d only discover at the end of the year. But my tiny mind was convinced the evil teacher had stolen it.

In retaliation, instead of resuming normal behavior I decided that I would do all my writing upside down and backwards. No one, least of all myself, could explain why I felt this was necessary. Maybe I felt I’d be cool like a spy, maybe I just needed to buck the teachers hateful authority, or maybe I was just a little autistic kid.

When taking notes or writing essays I’d arrange the paper to be upside down. It may surprise you to know that my penmanship was actually quite decent, albeit I wrote a little more slowly than my classmates. That’s why it took the teacher a while to realize what was going on. There wasn’t a drop in the quality of my writing.

Unsurprisingly she hated it when she found out. She lambasted me both privately and in front of the class to write normally. I asked if my writing was illegible. She had to admit that no, it was not. I shrugged. I did not see a problem.

Like the pencil my new writing fixation was cited as being a distraction to the other children. But similarly she didn’t have an easy way to make me stop. She marked me down, gave me several talking tos, and generally bullied me into writing like everyone else.

All attempts at correcting me simply ran off my back. I had found a way to cope with how miserable she made all of us, by inflicting misery back upon her. I was unswayed for the rest of the year.

When I graduated up into fourth grade and had a teacher I adored it suddenly stopped. I looked at the paper and thought, Well that’s silly, and flipped it the right way round.

I can still write upside down, though, a testament to my worst year in public school.

[seokgyuu]

When fertility clinics fail to give you what you want, you decide it’s time to take the matter into your own hands. And who’d be better for the job than Choi Seungcheol?

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Porn with a small bit of plot. 

Warnings: This work contains adult content! MDNI! This whole fic revolves around getting pregnant!! So if you’re uncomfortable, please do not read. Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Omg look, she’s back with a work!! And it’s a standalone Cheol fic??? Damn. I wanna thank the lovely @idyllic-ghost for the beautiful banner!! Have fun reading and please be a bit more patient in case you are a reader of Challenge Me. I swear there is more to come!! also big thanks to @beomcoups for reading this over and telling me it doesn't suck, lol.

Tagging: @duhnova, @yoonguurt, @highvern, @smileysuh, @cheolism @the-boy-meets-evil @ourdawnishotterthanourday @gyuswhore

“I don’t really know how to start.” You finally break the silence, sitting on the couch across from Seungcheol, your legs crossed and your hands laying in your lap. He watches as you lick over your lips, nervous eyes roaming around the room and something like a chuckle wants to creep out of his throat. He suppresses it and instead smiles.

“Me neither, don’t worry. We can take it slow if you like. Or I can finish this water and we can go upstairs,” he pauses for a second, “or stay here, whatever you prefer.”

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (duh), creampie, dirty talk, blowjobs, face fucking, usage of the word daddy, squirting, multiple orgasms (f&m)

Choi Seungcheol has never done this before. He has never sat in the living room of a woman he barely knew with a glass of medium sparkling water in his hand and a pounding heart in his chest. If anything, this had only ever happened in his dreams. Not the medium sparkling water (mainly because he didn’t even like his water sparkled, medium or not) and perhaps with less clothing - even though that specific part was probably about to become reality. 

“Do you want something small to eat, or something?” You ask now and Cheol flinches slightly, looking up at you with his big eyes and his mouth slightly dropped.

“Oh, no, thanks!” He smiles back and takes a sip from his glass. It tastes awful but he’s not about to say that. 

Your living room is huge; two big couches the color of creme surrounded by tasteful art on the walls. A fireplace and a huge flatscreen above it, pictures of friends and family on the shelves, books from authors Cheol has never heard of. He wonders for a quick second why you would choose this route when you obviously had the funds to do it the… more professional way, but then he remembers that he is getting paid for this. In fact, he already has the insane amount in his bank account waiting to be used to pay off his student loans. 

“I don’t really know how to start.” You finally break the silence, sitting on the couch across from Seungcheol, your legs crossed and your hands laying in your lap. He watches as you lick over your lips, nervous eyes roaming around the room and something like a chuckle wants to creep out of his throat. He suppresses it and instead smiles.

“Me neither, don’t worry. We can take it slow if you like. Or I can finish this water and we can go upstairs,” he pauses for a second, “or stay here, whatever you prefer.”

You think it’s cute, the way he blushes. In a situation like this one, definitely not surprising. You’ve been thinking about this for months now: fertility clinics in your town and even outside of it weren’t working. It wasn’t the money that was the problem, but your body apparently. Or anything else. At some point one of the doctors joked that it would probably be best if you tried getting pregnant in the old fashioned way. By sleeping with someone who had a penis with functioning sperm. And whilst he had meant it as a joke, very clearly trying to uplift an incredibly sad situation (kind of distasteful, you find) you had taken it to heart and here you are now. 

A friend of yours owned a few gyms in town and Cheol was a regular turned PT in one of them. He was handsome and strong, a gentleman, healthy and in desperate need of some easy made money. Your friend had overheard him talking to one of the other PTs and even though it might not have been the most professional thing to do - she had asked him if he wanted to help out in your specific situation. You have to admit - back when she told you it felt extremely humiliating. Asking some stranger to have sex with you to, maybe (hopefully?), get you pregnant. Not to mention her being his boss - if he hadn’t reacted the way he did, he could have more than likely sued her for this. 

But he said yes. And now he's here. Many dollars richer and with an embarrassed flush on his pretty face. 

“Upstairs is probably more comfortable,” you finally respond and he nods, emptying his glass. After, he looks at you expectantly and you feel your insides growing hot. He’s everything you wished for and more. Better than who you had picked first in the fertility clinic for sure. It’s crazy, all of this, you know it, and yet you can’t help but feel like this is also the only right thing. You want a baby. Seungcheol wants to help you get one. 

Finally, you get up and he joins you, a nervous smile on his lips as you lead him to the stairs in the foyer, your legs shaking as you walk up, the sounds of his footsteps behind you echoing in your head. You’re about to lead a stranger into your bedroom. A sexy stranger that will (hopefully) father the child you’ve been wanting for over a year. Your stomach turns in excitement as well as arousal and you clear your throat as you reach the top of the stairs.

“It’s right over here,” you say, pointing at the door to your left and Seungcheol nods, eyes only temporarily leaving your frame. 

A part of him feels like he should come clean about how much he’s been looking forward to this. To sleep with you, to breed you. Ever since his boss had asked him about this, he’s been excited. It was almost as if she had known. Showing him pictures of you, telling him how much you want to have a baby. She obviously didn’t say the obvious, didn’t say that you were desperate for cum in your pussy to get you pregnant. Mainly because that would have been even more inappropriate. But Cheol knew. He still does. Knows that you’re probably dripping into your designer panties wanting nothing but his cum and his only. Fuck, he is growing harder by the second. He has to calm down, remain professional. This is supposed to be nothing but a business transaction, he is well aware. But it’s not like he chose to have an extreme breeding kink, right? 

The door to your bedroom opens and Cheol takes in the furniture and decorations only for a second before his eyes land on you again. You stand in front of your bed, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“I- uh, I think it’s probably best if we, uhm, get ready by ourselves?” 

Cheol nods. He kind of figured there wouldn’t be much foreplay. Still, just the thought of you behind him, touching yourself… he comes to the conclusion he won’t need much handy work to be hard for you. 

“Should we take our clothes off, or…?” He asks carefully and you swallow, your eyes trying to be subtle as you check him out but he can clearly see what you’re doing. You want him to take off his clothes. You just aren’t sure if you should. It would probably make the situation easier, yes, but it would also expose you to this man that is built like a god. You bite down on your lip and swallow the lump in your throat. Then, you nod. 

With a sense of pride, Cheol moves his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head without any trouble. Your eyes are immediately glued to his toned torso - the abs, the strong shoulders, his chest. 

“Maybe we should turn off the lights.” The words escape your mouth before they reach your brain. A small smirk tugs on Cheol’s lips - you’re flustered because of him. Without a word, Cheol nods and turns off the light, sitting down onto the bed with his back turned to you. This is nerve wracking. Your face is hot and your heart is beating fast as you sit down as well. You hear him behind you. Hear the sound of his pants opening, of his hands moving to shove it down. There is no stopping the wish to see him, his beautiful body. When you hear the small sigh he lets out a few seconds later, you decide to just follow your instincts. It was you who had called him here. Backing out now would be foolish. So, you bite down on your lip and lean back slightly, your hand wandering down to your clothed core, pressing against it for just a quick moment, before you move to open your jeans as well, making quick work to get them down your legs. 

You begin to circle your clit over your panties, eyes closed and the image of Cheol right there in front of you. The smug smile, the lean muscles on his torso… you wonder what they’d feel like under your fingertips. Now, it is you who sighs softly and Seungcheol behind you groans quietly. The sound shoots through you, makes you crave to hear it even closer, right by your ear. You want him to hold you, want him to say your name as he slides into you. 

The sounds you make drive Seungcheol crazy. His big hand is wrapped around his cock, moving up and down, precum helping to make the glide easier. His whole head is filled with you and nothing but you and he has to stop himself from shooting his load right away just thinking about feeling you tightly around him. Yes, Seungcheol seriously doesn’t know how long he can go on like this without cumming. So, he slightly turns around, tongue slipping over his lips.

“I’m ready…,” his deep voice reaches your ears just when two of your fingers slide into your pussy, already longing for more. You moan, feeling another wave of heat running through your body. Nodding, you let your fingers slip out and turn around, moving fully onto the bed. You hadn’t discussed positions earlier, but you decide to get on all fours, Seungcheol slowly getting up.

He can’t see you, only your silhouette that looks ever so perfect, ass up in the air and, fuck, he thinks he won’t last long. Swallowing hard, he moves and places his hands on your hips.

“Is that alright?” He asks and you nod.

“Y-yes.”

That’s all he needs. Moving forward, his right hand grabs his erect cock, leading it to your core. God, you’re wet. No problem at all to slide into you, into your seemingly perfect pussy that begins to squeeze him right away. Seungcheol is sure there are stars dancing in front of his head already. 

His size almost takes you out. The stretch hurts deliciously and the second he is buried fully inside of you, your head drops and a moan you couldn’t suppress even if you wanted to makes Seungcheol thrust for the first time. He starts out slow but deep, trying to hold on longer by not speeding up. While the goal is obvious, he doesn’t just want to cum inside of you and leave. No, he wants to make this a good experience for both of you. So, he listens to the sounds you make to the way your pussy clenches, the way your body shoves back against him. You seem to like it deep, seem to want it harder and, fuck, if Seungcheol wasn’t so keen on still kind of keeping it professional he would push your head into your pillows and fuck you til you begged him to never stop. 

All that fills the air is the moans both of you let out as well as the sound of skin on skin, of his cock sinking into your wetness over and over again. You want to scream, want to tell him to go harder, faster. All sense of professionalism is slowly but surely leaving your body and when his big hands squeeze your hips, you finally falter. 

“H-harder, please!” You cry out and Seungcheol twitches inside of you, nodding to himself before doing as he’s asked. He leans forward, his hips hitting yours harder and faster than before, fingers digging into your skin as he groans in pleasure. 

“Fuck!” Your hands grab the sheets, knuckles white just when your first orgasm hits. Throwing your head back, crying out in nothing but pure bliss, leaving Seungcheol speechless. He can feel your climax around him, can feel you clenching, vibrating almost. He can feel just how good you squeeze him and there is no stopping his own release following right away, spurts of hot cum painting your warm walls white. He fucks both of you through your orgasms, sweat running down his face and finally pulls out, wishing the light was on so he could see his seed spilling out of you. 

You turn around, falling onto your back, your eyes closed. 

“That… wow.” You can’t find words. Mainly because you can’t even remember the last time someone fucked you this good. Seungcheol licks over his lips.

“Can I turn the light on?” He asks then and something in his voice makes chills run down your back. Your eyes fly open and you bite back down onto your lip before telling him yes. Once the light is back on, you feel another wave of lust rush over you. He’s fully naked. He’s sweaty. He’s perfect. Blonde hair sticking to his forehead, brown eyes taking in every bit of your body that’s free for him to see. Different from what you had believed you don’t feel uncomfortable. More so the opposite. His gaze on your body seems to light you on fire, making you crave more. 

“You’re beautiful.” He lets his hands fall down onto your bare thighs, slowly pushing them apart. His cock hardens again at the sight of your pussy, his cum slowly dripping out of you.. You allow yourself to check him out, seeing how his blood rushes down, how much he enjoys the view. 

“I think… I think maybe another round… would make the probability higher that it works.” Another thing you say before it registers. 

The smug smile appearing on his face now almost makes you gasp. It’s so different from the person he was downstairs, from the shy and slightly awkward man who didn’t know where to look. Now, he looks like a wild animal with its eyes set on its prey. Oh, god.

He leans forward, hands still on your thighs and your throat goes dry. His tongue licks over his bottom lip and his eyes seem to already fuck you a second time. 

“We should get this back inside, don’t you think?” It takes you by surprise when you feel his fingers on your core, when you feel him gathering his release and shove it back inside you, his thick fingers splitting you open deliciously. This time you can’t stop the gasp, your hands moving to hold onto his forearms, eyes wide and mouth dropped.

“That’s right, take all of Daddy’s cum,” his lips are right by your ear and your body is hit by an enormous wave of lust, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he keeps fucking them into you. Moans escape you and your head falls back - at least you think it does until you feel his other hand on the back of your neck holding it steady.

“Look at me,” he breathes, “look at me when I fuck my first load back into you before giving you another one.” 

You whimper as you nod, eyes watering from the desperation of wanting to cum again. Seungcheol is sure to give you as many orgasms as you can take. As many rounds as you let him have you.

His plump lips are opened as he watches you, your sweaty face, your blown pupils, your obvious need for more. Fuck, he’s a goner. Before knowing what he’s doing, he’s leaning in even more, crashing your lips together. Your eyes flutter shut immediately and you kiss him back, opening your lips to invite him inside. He groans against your mouth, his tongue sliding into your warmth, feeling yours a few seconds later. 

The kiss is heated and desperate and every vein in your body seems to be on fire. Your heart is pounding at triple speed in your chest and when Seungcheol parts for air, you’re already craving him again. You want to touch him, want him to hold you close when he’s back inside of you, when he gives you what you need, what you want. There seem to be no coherent thoughts left in your brain as he continues to kiss you with his fingers buried inside your sweet cunt. 

“Do you even know how hot you are, fuck,” he breathes against your lips now, pulling his fingers out of you to have both his hands on you the next second. He kisses you again, hungry for your touch. Hands all over you, gliding from your hips to your breasts, getting rid of the shirt you were still wearing. He wants to see all of you, lose himself in your body, wants to get high on what it feels like to know you want him just as bad as he wants you. This isn’t just about making you a mum anymore. Seungcheol wants to give you pleasure, wants to treat you the way you deserve. He saw it in your eyes earlier - saw how you want it hard and rough, heard it in your pleads for him. 

“On your knees, face me.” It’s an order you’re more than happy to follow. You bite down onto your lip and get on your knees, looking up at him. God, he looks ethereal. 

“Good girl, so, so good for me.” You shiver when he lets his fingers slide over your face, down to your mouth, sliding them in. You suck them in without having to be asked. They taste like you and him and your eyes roll back when he begins to fuck them down your throat, his free hand cradling your tits again. 

“That’s right. Fuck.” 

It’s like he is in a trance, hypnotized by the way you look with his fingers in your mouth, knowing full well his seed is still inside and will soon be joined by more. He feels like he is addicted to you already, like he just can’t get enough of you. He wants to taste you, wants to have you come on his cock over and over again.

His eyes are glued to you. You, who is sucking on his fingers so prettily, your tongue swirling around the digits and Seungcheol grows impatient. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and instead grabs his half hard cock with his slicked up fingers, jerking himself off a few times, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Open up wide for me, baby girl.” 

His cock slides through your lips and into your mouth and your eyes roll back, tongue already pressing against his thick length. The groan he lets out makes slick run down your thighs. You want him so bad, your pussy is throbbing and clenching and you feel like your head has never been this dizzy before. Nothing but arousal is in the air, the smell of you and him and what you’ve done just as hypnotizing as your eyes. 

Working forward slowly, Cheol watches as you take more and more of him down your perfect throat, his own mouth hanging low. No one has ever looked as good with his cock in their mouth. He doubts anyone ever will. He’s big, he knows he is and while he wants to be careful with you - he also wants to ruin you. Wants to see drool dripping down your chin, wants to hear you choke on his huge cock. 

“Take it all, I know you can.” He pushes further, his tip gliding down your throat and you choke, your eyes filling with tears, but there is no part of you that isn’t fully enjoying this. You want him to fuck your mouth, to be rough, harsh. Want to be used by him all while having him breed you later on. He watches you, watches the first tear and the first small pool of drool, his cock growing heavier on your tongue by the second.

“Look at you. So, so pretty. Getting Daddy’s cock hard so he can breed you again, isn’t that so nice of you?”

He does his first thrust down your throat and you choke once more, followed by a moan around his cock that makes him groan. Everything around him is a blur. There is only you and your mouth, the warmth of it, the feeling of how your throat restricts around his length, how you seem to vibrate around him. 

Getting your throat fucked certainly wasn’t on your list of probable things happening tonight. But you lose yourself in the feeling of him using you to get off. Feeling him grow harder in your mouth, spit dripping from your mouth onto your bed, his taste ever so present. God, you wanna devour him until he explodes inside of you. 

As much as he enjoys this, though, there is a reason he is here. With a last hard thrust down your excellent throat, he pulls out, watching you gain back your breath, your eyes fluttering open and looking at him with such desperate want it makes shivers run down his back. 

There is no need for words - he leans forward, pushing you over so you’re on your back, his lips catching yours in another heated kiss. His hand is around his cock, leading it to your entrance. The tip breaches you and you moan into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer. Your legs almost automatically set around his waist, his cock sinking as deep into you as possible.

“Fuck,” he breathes, settling inside of you, giving him and you a second to adjust. God, he could already shoot his load. You feel perfect around him. Like you were made for him and only him. It suddenly bothers him - the fact he’s gonna get you pregnant and never see you again. The thought is scary, and he might have spiraled into something - but you have a different idea. 

Wiggling your hips, you are whining into his mouth, trying to finally get him to move. Your pussy squeezes him, begs him and Cheol is just a man after all. He does his first thrust that is quickly followed by more. Soon, both of your moans are filling the room, his lips kissing every inch of you he can reach, your heartbeat rapidly increasing. You feel like you’re in a different dimension, a dimension that only exists for you and Seungcheol and your pleasure. You arch your back, his mouth on your tits, sucking and biting them, your moans getting louder every second. 

While you don’t want it to end, you also want nothing more than for him to fill you up again. Feel him twitch and lose control because of you. Your nails dig into his muscular back just as he leans back, his dark eyes staring into yours as he fucks you harder, his hands shoving your thighs back, his movements becoming more fluid. Your eyes roll back and you sure you can feel him in your stomach, or no, you can feel him everywhere.

“Look at you, so fucking beautiful, could look at you forever.” 

You wonder if he knows what those words do to you. If he knows how hot he is, how ethereal he looks. Probably. With your mouth and eyes wide, your body in his hands and your pussy crying, begging, yearning for release, you let yourself fall. Fall down into the greatest pleasure of your life, waves and waves of it hitting you, liquid shooting out of you and onto Cheol’s cock and thighs, loud and lewd moans leaving your throat as you reach the highest height you’ve ever been.

Seungcheol’s response is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard, his own eyes not able to stay open as he fucks into you faster and harder, so close to bursting. And when he does, when he lets go as well, when all he has to give is ready to be given - there is no stopping the wave of yet another orgasm hitting you. Spurts of white are met by your pussy squeezing him, by you crying out his name over and over while his hips crash against yours at rapid speed over and over again. 

Then, he collapses on top of you. Your legs fall into their natural position and your hands find the back of his head, stroking through his wet strands of hair. You are both panting, his chest glued to yours. Sweat and drool and other bodily fluids give the air the smell of sex and you wonder how long it’ll linger in your bedroom. You’re not sure you ever want it to leave. Or him, for that matter.

It takes a good couple of minutes before Seungcheol is able to lift his head to look at you. His eyes sparkle and you smile, one hand wandering to cup his cheek and caress it softly.

“Hi,” you whisper. He can’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” he replies quitely. 

He kisses you after. Soft and sweet. He is still buried inside of you, keeping his cum inside you, making sure it’s all right where it belongs. The thought makes him wonder. Makes him ask himself why it feels like it’s not just his seed that belongs to you. He doesn’t dare to speak what’s on his mind. Instead, he just continues to kiss you.

Unknowingly that you were just thinking the exact same thought as him. 

[acidinduceddaydreams]

Skz ot8 corrupting reader౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

Synopsis: ot8 corrupting innocent crybaby reader slowly but surely.

Warnings: corruption kink; innocent reader being bullied in some parts by the members, dacryphilia but not really , deep throating of ice cream. Mean skz. Reader is not a child. She is an adult!!!

Part 2

Innocent reader who doesn’t like horror movies but watches it anyway because Hannie told her to.

The movie is not even halfway and your screams are already prevalent. You try to muffle your cries against Jeongin’s arm but he isn’t having it. “Stop crying you’re ruining my shirt.”

Seungmin making fun of you for crying and how you made Chan change the movie because you’re too scared. “Can you shut up now. Your whimpers are so fucking annoying.”

Minho who bullies you once you’re settled again into crying more because it secretly or not so secretly turns them on. “Wow! The crybaby finally shut up.” “Oh don’t get upset, you can’t help it if you’re a loser and a crybaby it’s just who you are.”

Felix who acts as if he’s calming you down from the taunting of your other friends when in reality he’s just trying to make it worse. His voice is low and condescending. “Leave the poor thing alone you guys.” “She’s just a baby trying to act like an adult, but don’t worry baby you don’t have to pretend with us.”

Hyunjin who buys ice cream for everyone on a hot summer day. Everyone else’s is in a cup or arch-shaped but yours just happens to be long and phallic shaped. Not that you even notice or would know what that means.

Changbin who ‘accidentally’ nudges your arm just a little as he goes to sit next to Hyunjin causing you to choke on the ice cream and let out a gagging sound along with coughing and glassy eyes having never had something go that deep before. “Sorry, pretty my arm slipped.”

Han who ‘helps’ you pick out clothing to wear when you go out with them. You’re standing in your closet picking out things you think he’d like. He tells you that he doesn’t mind you changing in front of him and that all friends do it. Not that you need much convincing you’re just too busy trying to look pretty. “Wow honey. You look wonderful in that sundress. Though I think it’s too long.”

Chan who has a hand on you wherever you go. Walking in a crowd? He’s holding your hand. Talking to someone? His hand on your waistline should give them the hint. You’re in your head about something? It’s ‘normal’ for friends to wrap their hands around each other’s throat to ground them.

Minho who heard from Hannie that you wear hello kitty, my melody and other childish underwear. Laughing as he mocks you. “Wow Y/n how old are you, huh?” “Do you want a pacifier while you’re at it.” He can’t help himself. Your voice trying to defend yourself is barely audible only coming out in whimpers. “Wow, kitten you do you know you have to grow up someday, right?”

Seungmin tugging on your two plaits whenever he wants. “Ow Minnie why’d you do that?” “Sorry puppy it’s a force of habit.”

Jeongin who puts a finger in your mouth to soothe you after all the tears. You’ve never needed to have something to stop you from crying but now it’s automatic. As soon as the tears fall you’re begging for his fingers or thumb. “you want my fingers in your mouth. Wow sweetheart you’re so silly. Do you know they have pacifiers for this exact situation? Maybe I should get you one to really shut you up hmm.” “No, you don’t want one? Well then that means you’ll just have to learn to stop talking back or you won’t even get my fingers.”

All of the boys who make fun of you for closing your eyes when a somewhat steamy scene comes on in the movie they purposefully picked but you don’t have to know that. Sitting on Minho’s lap covering your eyes does something to them. The scenes usually aren’t even that sexual. It’s usually just the two main characters kissing. Seungmin is obviously the first one to pipe up saying between laughs “Wow Y/n they’re just kissing.” “Yeah” Felix’s adds. “Would you like us to show you how so you’re not shy next time.”

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Like A Lamb

**Idea taken from @nerdpoe's post- What the hell is this "Infinite Realms"?**

John Constantine would never call himself a kind man, much less a good man, but the kid at the corner table of this fast food restaurant was making him want to be both.

Not that John’s kindness would really help the kid, in the long run.

He’d seen so many things in all the time he’d been alive- wondrous and horrific in equal measure, but this boy- this teenager, barely out of childhood, was probably the most heart-breaking.

John had known sacrifices- marked by both men and demons. He’d seen the crumpled bodies after the fact, and sometimes he’d been able to save them beforehand. None of them were like this boy. Marked like a sacrificial lamb down to his bones by the universe- an inevitable end.

The teen was the beginning and the end of worlds- his death would shake the foundations of all that was, could be, and is. Time would stutter to a stop before restarting with a different beat, and John could do nothing to delay or stop what was coming.

How in the world could this kid still smile and laugh with his friends? How could he not feel the weight of an entire reality on his shoulders? If John, sitting across a dining room from him, could feel the pressure, why wasn’t the boy buckling under it?

John’s phone alerted him to a text from Zatanna- he was needed by the JLD.

With a sigh, he fished out the strongest protection amulet he had on him. It wouldn’t save the teen, but maybe it would make the rest of his life a little easier.

The kid looked up at him as he approached, all smiles and young innocence. John Constantine thrust the amulet into his hand and then turned, stalking out of the Nasty Burger.

He needed to tell the Justice League. Amity Park needed protection- there was a kid there whose death would change the world.

~~~

Danny flipped the little charm around in his hands, trying to figure it out. The sad trenchcoat man had handed it to him before leaving, and he had no idea why.

“What do you think it is, Danny?”

He shrugged. For some reason he didn’t want to hand it over to Sam for her to inspect it.

“Dunno. It feels important, though. I might take it to Pandora- she’s been teaching me a bit of magic stuff, so she can probably parse it out.”

For some reason, Danny knew he would recognize that man again if he ever saw him, despite only having looked at him for a moment. Something in his core rumbled contently as he tucked the amulet carefully into the back of his phone case.

The next few weeks, Danny found himself having suspiciously good luck. The food at home didn’t come to life, ghosts didn’t attack as much, Dash wasn’t a problem at school, and even the Fentons hadn’t been as insistent on catching Phantom.

That was another weird thing- His brain didn’t seem to compute that Jack and Maddie were his mom and dad anymore. He knew he’d been creeping toward that ever since his death, but it was like a switch had been flipped overnight. The Fenton adults no longer registered as his parents.

Finally he had a chance to slip into the Realms and head for Pandora, who took one look at the amulet he held out to her and laughed.

“You have been adopted, young one, and your core accepted.”

“Adopted?”

“Your nature is to protect- it sings in your blood and guides your instincts. An adult offered you protection, a safe haven, and you took them up on it. Had someone your own age done the same, your relationship with them would be vastly different.”

Danny frowned at the charm, but he didn’t put it down- it didn’t even occur to him to get rid of it.

“Why did he- what made him do that?”

Pandora ruffled his hair.

“He saw someone who needed protecting, I assume, and acted as he ought.”

~~~

“Bats, I don’t know what the Infinite Realms are. Yes, I know they exist. I just don’t know when they started to exist, and when my knowledge of the afterlife became outdated.”

Batman glared, and John rolled his eyes at the other man.

“Magic shit happens all the time. Zatanna can tell you just as well as I can that the Realms didn’t exist a year ago- and also that they’ve existed for millenia.”

“I’ve found a summoning spell for the king of the realms, but it requires a magic user. Zatanna is off-planet, so you’re up.”

John looked over at the speaker, Red Robin, whose slight form and dark hair made him think of the boy he’d left to die.

He’d thought of the boy more often than not- any research into the kind of sacrifice that would have so much power came to a dead end, and John Constantine hated that there was really and truly nothing he could do for the kid.

Maybe this Infinite Realms person might know something?

“Fine. What are the details?”

Red Robin perked up and handed over a heavy tome.

“Batman and I already set up the ritual space in the conference room, and a few other heroes are there to help out if the king is hostile.”

“Of course you have. Let’s go, then.”

The two bats swept off down the hallway, and John followed behind, studying the spell he would need to cast. It was fairly simple, and luckily wouldn’t require blood. He hated the ones that required blood.

As he stood over the sigils and spoke the ritual spells, the floor inside the protective circle began to writhe and bubble a toxic neon green. It was all John could do to stand straight as a rush of air spilled from the portal into the wide room, bringing with it the heavy taste of caution.

The Justice League took a step back as the first clawed hand reached out from the green, white and stretched beyond humanity. It scrabbled for purchase before finding it and pulling.

The creature that exited the swirling mass was something John had never seen before. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he might describe the creature as catlike, with a black body and white legs, as well as piercing green eyes. The similarities stopped, however, when the inky body flickered and lit up from within with the pinpricks of millions of stars and endless void.

This was a baby god, filled with the dreams of deities long forgotten and fueled by the hope of those still clinging on to life.

Its green eyes swept over the gathered heroes before coming to rest on John, and for a moment he felt as if his tattered soul was being judged by the cosmos.

And then the creature folded in on itself, the tense air around it changing from bitter caution to sweet relief, and John found himself face to face with the teenager from Amity Park.

“Hi.”

The boy sounded winded, but happy, and he reached inside his shirt to pull out a small chain necklace. John’s amulet was hanging off it, obviously well treasured and cared for.

“Did you know that you’re technically my dad now?”

Something on John’s face must have told the boy- the god, the sacrifice both dead and alive- that he was unaware of this fact. The kid shuffled a little, looking sheepishly at the floor.

“You- uh. Unintentionally offered safe haven. And I accepted without realizing what was going on, and- it’s weird. I collected your soul for you! Didn’t bring it with me, but I’ve got the pieces you’re missing.”

“I think you both need to sit down and discuss this.”

Bless Diana.

“Can you leave the circle, young one?”

The teen beamed at Diana and stepped out of the protective circle, smudging the sigils as he did and closing the portal.

“I can, yeah. Pandora says hi, by the way.”

John watched as the boy chattered away about his ghost friends to Diana while she led him to a seat, and then sighed, moving to join them. If he needed help with being a new dad, surely Bats could help, right?

[loveymontgomery]

what if all i need is you?

addison montgomery x reader

contains smut - about 1k words in

word count: 6740

a/n: veers away from the actual series - takes place right before (and into) the prom episode!! i wrote this in NOVEMBER LOL been hiding in the google docs 4ever. may be off continuity-wise (or some things may just be weird) but i was too busy thinking abt addie -- can u blame me?!?!?!?1//1?!

lyrics from taylor swift's "slut!"

Flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard

Clink clink, being this young is art

You and Dr. Montgomery had just left work together. The two of you were on-call the night before, and got off in the afternoon. She had been wearing her flamingo pink scrubs that night, looking beautiful as ever. Her hair was less curled than usual, fairly straight, with a slight inward curl at the end–how you liked it the most.

You’d gotten an Uber right after work, and took it downtown, where the two of you walked up and down streets (popping into stores occasionally), until dinner. You stopped in a small local place, which turned out to be much better than expected.

“We’ve got to come back here,” Dr. Montgomery said. 

“Absolutely, Dr. Montgomery,” you replied, a smile on your face.

“It’s Addison, to you. Surely, we’re on a first-name basis at this point.”

“Cheers, Addison,” you clink your glasses. “To this amazing dinner.”

Aquamarine, moonlit swimming pool

What if all I need is you?

After dinner, with the impending sunset, Addison called an Uber for the both of you. She took you back to the hotel she’d been staying at following her divorce from Derek Shepherd. She led you up to her room, telling you all about the different things the hotel had–a gym, obviously, billiards, a family and an adults only pool (with a hot tub), as well as a jacuzzi in her bathroom. Seeing your excitement at the jacuzzi, she suggested that the pair of you take a dive–she’d let you borrow one of her two swimsuits. 

After looking through her luggage, she handed you a black bikini. “You can change first,” she said. You stepped into the bathroom, only a few paces from where you were standing. Peeling off your pants, you noticed the size of the jacuzzi. It wasn’t large. Regardless of where you sat, you’d be in contact with Addison. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and heat to your cheeks. You tried to shake it off, pulling off the rest of your clothes and putting on Addison’s bikini. As you glared in the mirror, you noticed how it fit you. It wasn’t skimpy, (Addison surely wouldn’t have offered it to you if it was) but you looked good. The lighting in the bathroom placed emphasis on your barely-there abs, and made you look much more toned than you truly were. 

Checking yourself out, you decided to pull your hair down from the messy bun it had been in during the day. You weren’t sure why, but you made sure that your hair looked perfect before you exited the bathroom. 

Addison stared at you in silence for a moment, checking you out. She seemed to snap out of it quickly, saying, “Sorry. Not used to seeing my bikini on someone else.” You noticed a red tint on her cheeks as she passed you to go into the bathroom, though. You sat on the bed, trying to keep your mind away from imagining Addison in a bikini, even though you’d see her in one in a few moments. You didn’t want to think about it–seeing her collarbone, her shoulders, her waist. God, you couldn’t even think about her legs without your face heating up. Which shouldn’t happen. You couldn’t be thinking about your friend–your coworker–like that.

She opened the door moments later, wearing a pink bikini. You took a mental note of that, Addison’s favorite color is pink, surprisingly. It was like you felt time stop when you saw her. She looked gorgeous, better than you could’ve ever imagined that anyone could. Her voice brought you back to reality.

“I turned on the jacuzzi. So…”

“Right,” you said, and followed her into the bathroom. She got into the bathroom with all the grace you could imagine. You tried to not get distracted, following her into the jacuzzi. You sat across from her, your knees touching. “Must be nice to come home to this,” you joked.

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “This thing has to be one of the best ways to unwind.”

“What are the other ways?” you asked, a slight bit of flirtation coming out. You didn’t even realize, not until you had already said it. 

“Can’t tell you all my secrets, can I?” Addison flirted back, brushing her knee along your leg. Hearing the ding of her cellphone, Addison reached to the counter behind you, where she’d placed her phone before you’d come into the bathroom. You held your breath at the close proximity. Her stomach was practically in your face, and it took nearly everything in you to not look up. She sighed when she looked at it, but quickly came back down to the jacuzzi, sitting next to you, instead of across from you. 

“Hi,” you said, taking a deep breath.

“Hi,” Addison replied, a sly smirk on her face.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, just Derek. Nothing important,” she said, ever-so-slightly moving closer to you. You felt her thigh against yours, and nearly went into cardiac arrest. It was a miracle that you weren’t hooked up to a heart monitor, because she surely would’ve caught on to the fact that you were practically dying from just being near her. Addison pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate you?” 

“Uh… you might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you said, quietly, as Addison started to get closer to you. 

“You make my life so much easier by just being in it,” she confessed, looking into your eyes. You swallowed thickly, your breath picking up. “Are you nervous?” Addison asked, picking up on the tenseness radiating from you. When you didn’t answer, she said, “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.” Leaning forward, Addison placed a soft kiss on your lips. Your hands found their way into her hair, and Addison planted herself on top of your legs. Like something snapped, the kiss heated up, and you felt Addison’s hands running along your sides and then felt a hand along your thigh, and one in your hair. After a few moments, Addison pulled back, resting her forehead on yours. “Good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Good,” you said. One of Addison’s hands found your neck, pressing on your pulse point.

“Relax, Y/N. I’m gonna have to take you back to the hospital.”

“If it means spending more time with you…” you trailed off, lightly joking. You glared into her eyes. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you,” she said, before returning to kiss you. Addison’s hips started to grind against nothing, which didn’t go unnoticed from you. Even though she wasn’t doing much to you–just the feeling of her thighs moving along yours was enough to drive you crazy. It didn’t get easier when she started to slip her tongue into your mouth. You moaned into her mouth, which really didn’t go unnoticed by Addison, as she ran her hand back up to your chest, feeling you up through the bikini she lent you. She pulled back slightly, “having fun?” she asked, while continuing to feel you up.

It took everything in you to not make a sound, which was very evident to Addison. “Mhm…” you hummed in response. 

“Oh, come on… Use your words,” Addison commanded lightly.

“Yes. Addison, I need-,” you started, cutting yourself off because of the pleasure that Addison was bringing you.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“You. Just… you. All I need is you,” you admitted, breathlessly. Addison’s confident exterior faded, seemingly affected by your statement. She practically lunged toward you, placing her lips on yours roughly. Her hands traveled up and down your back and sides quickly. She lightly pulled on the back of the bikini you were wearing before pulling apart to ask, 

“May I?”

You nodded, knowing your words would fail you. You pulled Addison back towards you, and it was now your turn to kiss her roughly. She made a noise of surprise before pulling the strings to your bikini, causing it to fall off completely. Taking her lips off of yours, she began to kiss down your jaw and onto your neck, where she sucked for a moment. Doing it with a doctor really was as good as you’d think. Addison knew all the spots. Moving down, past your neck, she placed light kisses along your collarbone and down onto one of your breasts. 

You couldn’t help the moan that came out of you. “Oh, Addie…” Addison pulled back, scanning your body.

“You’re so beautiful. Perfect,” she decided, bringing one of her hands to your breast. Lightly, she ran her thumb back-and-forth across your nipple, watching your reaction. She took note of your heavy breaths. “Feels good?” You nodded. “Just sensitive?” she questioned.

“Yeah, for you.”

“You’re gonna inflate my ego by saying things like that,” Addie warned.

“Things like what? The truth?”

“Shut up,” Addison said, going to kiss you again. She began to toy with your nipple, loving the way you squirmed under her. You couldn’t help the quiet moans that came out of your mouth. Her other hand found its way to your upper thigh, before she pulled apart again, “Can I-”

“Addison, you can do whatever you want to me,” you cut her off, pulling Addison’s face back to yours. Within seconds, you felt Addison’s hand sliding under your bikini bottom. You lifted your hips instinctively, giving her a better angle. When Addison felt how wet you were, the both of you moaned. When one of her fingers came up to your clit, you whined. 

“So, you’re really sensitive, huh?” she asked. 

“I already told you-”

“Don’t be ashamed, it’s hot,” Addison told you, slowly sliding one of her fingers inside you.

“Addie…”

“I love when you say my name,” she encouraged. She slowly started to move her finger in and out of you, watching your reactions like a hawk. She could see how riled up you were, how you were desperate. Desperate in need of her. “Babe, take a breath. Slow down.”

When you did take a breath, she kissed you lightly. “That’s my girl.” Addison fully intended to take care of you. This was not going to be quick, she was going to revel in the pleasure she gave you, and as much as she loved seeing your desperation for her, she didn’t want you to tire yourself out too quickly. Again, she placed light kisses on your neck, smiling when she heard you moan. Too focused on her finger inside you, you didn’t even realize when she started sucking on your neck. When she pulled back, she said, “oops.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see later,” she said, smirking. Before you could respond, she pushed another finger inside you. 

“Oh, god, Addison,” you moaned, your head falling back. “This is… You’re making me feel so good.”

“Good. Relax for me,” she instructed. She brought herself back up to your face, beginning to make out with you again, while continuing to move her fingers in-and-out of you at a painfully slow pace, every-so-often brushing against your g-spot. Addison loved this; making you feel so good. It was like second nature. It was one of the best ways to unwind.

Eventually, Addison started to speed up her fingers, and your moans started to get louder and louder. She pulled back, wanting to watch how you squirmed because of her. “Addison,” you breathed. “Addi- Addison… oh my God.”

“Addie, please,” you begged. “Please, Addison, please.”

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart,” she encouraged. “Come on…” she muttered. She sped up a little bit more, biting her lip as she focused on making you feel good. It was a combination of seeing Addison biting her lip and her saying, “Come on, be a good girl for me,” that really sent you over the edge. You felt your whole body shake as you tried to slightly hold in your moans (the whole world didn’t need to hear you–only Addison). Your thighs practically crushed Addison’s hand as she helped you ride out your orgasm. Slowly, she pulled her fingers out of you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

She moved back to sitting next to you, and wrapped one of her arms around you, pulling you close. You rested your head on her shoulder, trying to catch your breath. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, before Addison got out of the jacuzzi, and began to help you out. She cleaned you up and dried you with a towel, before leading you back to the bed. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Addison wordlessly as she went to get you pajamas. She placed her Yale hoodie and a pair of sweatpants next to you. 

She went into the bathroom with her own pajamas, and you took that as your cue to put her clothes on. When she came back out of the bathroom, you smiled at each other. You’d never seen Addison in anything less than workplace-casual, and she looked adorable, to say the least. Her glasses only added to it–you loved her glasses. And Addison got a kick out of seeing you in her clothes. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, standing in front of you, using one of her hands to guide your jaw, having you look up at her.

“How do you think?”

“Well, I’d hope amazing,” she said, walking to the other side of the bed, and getting under the covers. You followed her lead. You fell asleep quickly, almost as soon as the lights were off. And your dreams were filled with Addison, watching her from the observatory in the operating rooms, and watching as she looked over babies and talked to patients. When you woke, it was because Addison had ordered room service for the both of you, and she was talking to the delivery man. At first, you were confused, not even remembering having fallen asleep. But when you turned and saw Addison standing at the door with her back to you, it all made sense. She still had a little bit of bedhead, but it was adorable. 

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?” she asked when she’d turned back around and saw you staring at her with a smile.

“Maybe. I don’t mind.”

“I got breakfast,” she said nervously. She climbed back onto her bed, sitting crisscrossed next to you. Of course, you always knew Addison was kind. She was always a good friend, you’d thought, but you never imagined that she was listening to every word you were saying, which became clear when she’d gotten your favorite breakfast; something you mentioned months ago. You ate together, talking about meaningless things over breakfast. She told you about what Derek had texted her last night–asking her about one of their mutual friends back in New York. She told you about the brownstone and the house in the Hamptons. She told you about their odd neighbors.  

She asked what you would tell your friends when you went home, what story you would make up. The both of you knew that there was no way you could tell your coworkers about this. Even if she just told Derek, he’d have to tell Meredith, and then word would spread throughout the entire hospital before you even went back to work. You told her, “Oh, you know. I spent the night with a gorgeous man. Tall, red hair, slender hands,” you began. “And he got me breakfast, that’ll give ‘the guy’ brownie points.”

“Wow. I get brownie points?” Addison asked, laughing to herself.

“Whoa, whoa. The mystery man I’m telling my friends about gets brownie points.”

“Of course.” Addison smiled. You left Addie’s hotel room shortly after that, making sure you avoided Mark Sloan and Chief Webber as you left. She offered to let you borrow her Yale hoodie, so you didn’t have to wear your same outfit from yesterday, but you declined. It was too risky, someone at the house would’ve noticed. You left on good terms, though, or so you thought. 

Got love-struck, went straight to my head

Got lovesick all over my bed

The days following your night with Addison went by quickly, but torturously. You didn’t talk to Addison for four days, and you were honestly starting to think that Addison was avoiding you purposefully. You’d only caught sight of her a handful of times, but from afar. She was talking to Mark or arguing with Karev. You could even see Mark trying to flirt with her a few times, which would’ve sent you off-the-rails, if you weren’t trying to keep your feelings for Addison under wraps.

You weren’t doing a good job at hiding your feelings generally, though, because as soon as you got home you’d either lay facedown on the couch or immediately make a break for your bed, slamming the door behind you. Your friends knew something was up, but tried to wait it out, at first. 

On Thursday, you heard your friends whispering outside your door, until George lightly knocked on your door before barging in anyway. “Hey…” he said cautiously, as if you were a cat about to lash out at him. He sat on the edge of your bed lightly. “You okay?” You took a deep breath, which to George, was a warning. “Right, bad question… is this about the guy from the other day?” You groaned before sitting up. 

“It’s just like, how do we sleep together and then you completely don’t speak to me for days? Not one text, George, not one! Actually, we didn’t even really sleep together, he just fingered me and that was it! I would’ve gone further, he stopped it! Isn’t that weird? I mean, I would expect a text, at least. Like, tell me what went wrong or why you don’t want me anymore!”

“Well, maybe-”

“It would be better if I had just met him at a bar or something and it was a one-night-stand, never see you again, sort of thing. But I knew this guy! For a while! I’m gonna see him around at some point, he can’t just avoid me forever!” you continued to rant, cutting George off.

“You know, guys are-”

“It’s really just so dumb. Like you wanted me and initiated the whole thing and now you won’t even speak to me? It’s like, talk to me! You know?” You stared at George for a minute, expecting him to say something. “Say something!”

“I was expecting you to cut me off, again,” he said. “This is gonna sound horrible, but I think you’re just getting in your head about it all. I do the same thing. We should know better than anyone, though, that people have lives. We go weeks without texting people back.” You stared at him for a moment. He was right, even though you hated that fact. You just wanted Addison to want you, but the fact that she was avoiding you made you feel like it was just a one-night thing for her. It wasn’t, for you. For you, you realized that your friendship with Addison had always been a disguise. You always had feelings for Addison, how could you not have? And how could you not have realized that sooner?

You kept talking to George for a while. After some time, you were sure Meredith and Izzie weren’t listening anymore. It was hard talking to George, though, because everything had to be vague. You couldn’t reveal a thing about this man, unless it was a lie. It did help, though. You started to feel more like yourself. Addison was an adult, she’d talk to you at some point, and things would be sorted out. Surely.

Love to think you’ll never forget

Handprints in wet cement

The following day, you’d finally had a reason to talk to Addison. Dr. Bailey had asked you to deliver a file to her, and even though you would’ve rather had anyone else do it, Meredith was the only person nearby. It took a while of looking, but you’d finally managed to find Addison by the nurses’ station. Unfortunately, though, she was talking to Mark. You watched, trying to hide your utter rage, as Mark was clearly flirting with her, and she wasn’t pushing him aside. You walked up to the pair of them, clearing your throat. 

“Doctor Montgomery.” She hummed when she turned, not immediately realizing it was you. “This is from Doctor Bailey,” you said, your eyes darting between her and Mark. It was hard to read Addison, but looking in her eyes, you could’ve sworn you saw her trying to hide her guilt. 

But Mark… When you turned to leave, Mark said, “Leaving already? We were just starting to have fun!”

“Stop flirting with me, Mark,” you said, walking away quickly. You found an empty closet, and sat on the floor.

Adorned with smoke on my clothes

Lovelorn and nobody knows

Love thorns all over this rose

I’ll pay the price, you won’t

You were starting to feel crazy, really. How could months of friendship with Addison completely fall out of touch? You hadn’t initiated things with Addison, how were you to know that your romance would end any relationship you had had with Addison? After a few more days, the whole hospital knew you were upset. It wasn’t hard to find out—people just had to look at you. When you saw Doctor Burke in passing, even he said something about it. But nobody knew why. Well, that was a lie. People thought they knew why. They thought that it was because you were having guy problems. You were not having guy problems. 

It was your turn to avoid Addison, now. There wasn’t a chance that she hadn’t heard about what was going on with you, but you hoped she knew better than to think that it was about a guy. She was smart enough to know it was about her. 

To help, your friends tried to find someone else for you. They brought you to Joe’s, (keeping you away from the dartboard, and away from the drinks, they only let you have enough to let loose) and tried to set you up with every man they found. They were cute, you supposed. Their plan really wasn’t working out. They tried for a while, though, you had to give them that. Even Cristina seemed dedicated, though you saw her complain to Meredith often. You had a good enough time, until you were leaving. Alex had showed up at some point, and he took part in trying to get you laid. But once you had decided to leave, he said, “Oh, get over it, already! Let me show you a good time.”

You honestly could not believe him. You knew he was an asshole, obviously. But he’d seen you in pain for weeks, and still said something like that. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shouted, turning and walking out the door before you could even see his reaction. That was new, from you. Even with Alex always being a douchebag, you’d never yelled at him. You called an Uber, and went home, blasting sad music in your headphones once you’d reached your bed. You don’t know when your friends got home, you didn’t see them until the morning. In the morning, you didn’t eat breakfast, and you barely said anything to your friends. They didn’t say much to each other, either. It was like your presence immediately ruined the mood. You yelled at Alex. Sure, you never yell, but it was Alex, you should be allowed to yell at Alex without Izzie acting like you’d kill her for speaking.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. How could going out with Addison after work one day lead to all this? This was Addison’s doing, and yet you were living your life in misery while her life stayed the same. You’d seen Addison in passing a few times, but only for work. You really didn’t even say hello. It was a week after you yelled at Alex that she paged you. 

Seeing Addison at first was fine. You were in your “work mode” and she was just Doctor Montgomery, not Addison. But when she told you to follow her, and she started to lead you to an on-call room, you started to get nervous. This wasn’t work. This was Addison. She locked the door behind you.

“Hey,” she said, clearly nervous, even for herself.

“Hey,” you said back. 

“I heard about what happened with Alex,” she grimaced. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

“When does he not?” you said, numbly. It pained Addison to see you like this. There wasn’t the slightest bit of you that was happy. She could see it in your eyes. “Is that all you heard?”

“No.”

“That’s great,” you said, as sarcastic as you could, even with how numb you felt. “Didn’t know you partake in the gossip.”

“I don’t, but people don’t shut up.”

“Right.” Addison took a step closer to you, your back against the door.

“Will you look at me, please?” you stayed looking anywhere but at Addison. You couldn’t do it. It would kill you. “You haven’t looked at me in weeks. Please, look at me.” Even with how upset you were, there was something in Addison’s voice, the genuine pleading, that you couldn’t deny. When your eyes met hers, you saw how glazed her eyes were. She wasn’t crying, but she nearly was. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry. Of course, I’m sorry. Do you think I wanted to hurt you, really? Is that the impression I gave you?”

“Doctor Montgomery, you didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

“Doctor Montgomery? You’re calling me Doctor Montgomery?”

“Yes. I am.” You noticed Addison’s breath picking up. She took a step back, and ran a hand through her hair. You couldn’t remember a time where you’d seen her like this.

“I’m… I didn’t mean to do that,” she said. “God, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she continued, sitting on the bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered, as if she was saying it to herself. You could see how hard it was to keep herself together. Once you realized that, you had a hard time keeping yourself together. 

“Addison…” she looked at you. “I don’t…” you began. “There’s a lot that I could say. So much that I could say. But… I just don’t want to do this anymore.” You started to slide down the door, and didn’t stop yourself. “I’m so tired, Addie. I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe. I can’t talk to people, or have people talk to me, and I’m tired of it.” You started to cry, and heard rustling before you felt Addison sitting next to you. You leaned into her. “Can we please stop this? Can we just start over? As friends, or… whatever you want. I just need this to be over.”

“Let me take you to the prom,” Addison said. 

“What?” you said. Surely, she did not say “the prom.”

“Didn’t you hear? Richard’s having a prom. Tomorrow.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t hear. Haven’t really been listening to people, recently.”

“Right…” 

“I’ll go with you,” you said. 

“Really?” Addison asked, a little over-excited, her voice higher than usual.

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile on your face. 

“I’ll pick you up at eight?” she suggested. 

“Sounds good, Addie.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead before standing, saying she had to go. You scooted over, letting her leave. You sat in the on-call room for a while, smiling to yourself. You figured that for the time being, you’d just tell everyone that the guy finally called, and you worked things out.

But if I’m all dressed up

They might as well be looking at us

And if they call me a “slut”

You know, it might be worth it for once

You had been ready half an hour early, pacing your room, making sure you looked okay. You decided on a baby pink gown (yes, Addison’s favorite color, on purpose) that tied up the back and had a slit. You hadn’t seen Izzie or Meredith yet, since they were busy getting themselves ready, but you had seen George, and he seemed stunned. He said that you looked great, and he would be surprised if you didn’t have men all-over you the entire night.

At 7:55, you were still pacing your room, but with your heels on, now. You heard the doorbell ring at exactly eight. And heard Izzie and George run to the door, you cursed yourself for not being down there already. 

“Doctor Montgomery!” You heard your friends say at the same time. 

“Nice see you, Doctor Stevens, O’Malley. I’m here for Y/N.”

You came down the stairs just in time to see their faces. They didn’t say anything though, just ran further into the house, probably to try to connect the dots. You left with Addison without a word. 

“I got you a corsage,” Addison said, while you were on the porch.

“You did? I didn’t even think about that, I’m sorry.”

“I invited you, thought it would be nice,” she said, sliding the corsage on your wrist. It was red, matching her dress. She looked beautiful. You could’ve stared at her for the whole night, instead of even going to the prom. When you arrived at the prom, you mingled around for a while, trying the punch and doing the photo booth that the hospital had somehow acquired. In one of the pictures, Addison kissed your cheek. You tucked the photostrips into your purse, making a note to give Addison her’s later.

Although you were trying to focus on Addison, and not the people around you, you noticed that it seemed like people hadn’t caught on, yet. People glanced at you occasionally, but it seemed as though that was because you were no longer moody. You and Addison talked about your high school prom experiences. She told you about how she was a band geek, and you told her about how you had a lot of friends. “You were a popular girl?” she questioned, humored.

“I wasn’t a popular girl, I just had a lot of friends!”

“You were a popular girl. That makes so much sense.”

“It’s like social situations come so easy to you. You’re perfect at them. It’s like you always know what to say. You’re so good with patients and their families.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the compliment whole-heartedly. “I was not a popular girl.” 

“Mhm.” Addison smiled at you. The DJ started to play something slow. “Dance with me?” You took Addison’s hand, and she led you towards the dance floor. You stayed near the edge, trying to keep yourself out of the spotlight, but you could tell people were looking anyway. You saw Izzie and George in your periphery, and even Derek and Meredith had stopped dancing to look at you, jaws dropped. You saw Alex looking on from afar, a soft smile on his face. He’d gotten over you yelling at him, and understood the line he crossed (he wasn’t going to apologize). You loved dancing with Addison. Neither of you were dancers, by any means, but it was nice to have her hands on you, especially after being away from her for so long.

When the song was over, she led you away from the prom, and you found an empty room. “I didn’t want people staring at us anymore,” she said. You took steps towards her as she spoke. 

“Yeah,” you said, staring at her lips.

“You look beautiful,” Addison said, looking you up and down.

“So do you, Addie.” You took another step towards her, your voice lower than usual.

“You like the red? I wasn’t sure about it.” As soon as she finished her sentence, you pulled her close to you, pressing your lips onto hers. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. You couldn’t help it anymore. She looked hot, and it was making you feel hot. Addison was a little taken aback at first, but quickly began to reciprocate your kisses. Your hands found her hips, and she whimpered into your mouth. Addie turned the two of you around, pressing you against the examination table, and telling you to jump between kisses. You jumped onto the table, Addison hiking up your dress and standing between your legs. She pulled on the strings to the back of your dress, letting you slightly loose. Addison’s hand gently found its way to your core, lightly rubbing against it. She was giving you the friction you desperately needed. You were ready to let Addison do whatever she wanted to you, until you heard the door open. 

You stopped kissing quickly, turning your heads to see Derek. He was standing with his mouth agape. Clearly, not expecting what he saw. Who’s to blame him? Seeing your ex-wife kissing your girlfriend’s roommate had to be shocking. “Derek, you’re gonna start drooling,” Addison said, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry.” He left quickly, shutting the door behind him. You could see him stand outside of the room for a moment though, surely short-circuiting. When you looked back at Addison, you knew the two of you had to get out of there. She looked hot, too hot, but she also  looked like she had just been making out. You must’ve looked like that too. As you left, you started to lose the worry of judgment. Who cares if you’re with Addison? What does it matter if anyone cares, if you had Addie?

The short ride back to your house was fairly silent, but comfortable. 

And if I’m gonna be drunk

I might as well be drunk in love

When you got back to the house, you and Addison shared a glass of wine before heading to your room. 

“I need you to know that I wasn’t trying to avoid you.”

“I know.”

“But… I need you to really know that. I mean it. I’ve never done this before,” Addison began. “I really want this, though. I really want you. You’ve been my best friend, but I can’t look at you and not think about how perfect you are, and how I just want to make you happy.”

“Okay,” you said.

“You get it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“So, we’re starting over?” Addison asked.

“Yeah, we can start over,” you confirmed.

“Okay. I’ll be better this time.”

“I know, Addie.”

“Can I spend the night?” You smiled at the thought.

“If you want to? Derek is probably gonna be around. These walls are kinda thin.” you warned. It would surely be weird for Addison to hear her ex-husband getting it on with another woman.

“That’s okay. Thin walls go both ways,” Addison said, smirking. Of course, she’d be up to something. “Do you wanna shower?” 

“We are not doing it in the shower. I’m too clumsy.”

“Oh, I know.”

“So, you wanna have a PG-13 shower with me?”

“I am actually interested in you for more than sex. Yes, I would love to shower with you.”

The two of you exited the bathroom just in time to see Derek and Meredith walking to her room. You stood in shock for a moment, but laughed it off. As soon as you and Addison reached your room, she shut the door behind you, locking it, and immediately dropped her towel, pressing her face to yours. You slid your hands along her sides before dropping your own towel. Addison pulled away from you, commanding you to, “get on the bed.” You did as she said, and felt your face heat up when she ended up on top of you, kissing you for a few moments before her mouth found its way to your neck. You couldn’t help your moans, but tried to keep them quiet. Addison laughed to herself.

“Something funny?”

“Just love seeing how I make you feel, babe,” Addison said, causing your legs to tense. She began to kiss down your chest, to your stomach, and to your upper thighs. When she pressed the first kiss to your thigh, you twitched. God, Addison was gonna be the death of you. Addison pressed soft kisses back up your thighs, finding herself at your core. She licked a long stripe up your folds slowly. You moaned loudly. You did not expect this tonight.

“Addie, oh my God,” you whined as she started to pick up her pace, getting more comfortable with her movements. Your legs started to tremble, and you knew it was only a matter of minutes before Addison sent you over the edge. “Addison… Addie, you’re so good at that. Just like that.” Addison continued her pursuit, exactly how you wanted it. “Oh, please don’t stop. Please, Addie, please, don’t stop… Oh my God!” With a few more seconds, your thighs tightened around Addison’s head. Your whole body trembled, and while working you through your orgasm, Addison watched you.

“That was so hot, baby,” she said, clearly turned on. 

After taking a moment to breathe, you said, “Addison, please lay down.” She did as you asked, and you began to press kisses to her neck. “I’m giving you a hickey. Payback.” She moaned quietly in response. You’d only given her a small hickey, she could cover it easily, if she wanted to. Post-hickey, you worked your way down to her chest, lightly sucking on her breast. Addison’s moans became more frequent, and it was music to your ears. You would give anything to hear that for the rest of your life. While your mouth was busy with Addison’s chest, one of your hands found its way between her legs. You began by slowly rubbing her clit, gaining a fairly loud moan out of Addie, and then pressing a finger of yours inside her once she seemed prepared. You pulled back from her chest in that moment, wanting to see her reaction.

She threw her head back, closing her eyes, and moaning constantly as you slowly moved your finger in and out of her. “Look at me, Addie.” She opened her eyes lightly, heavy with desire. ‘So pretty, Addison. You’re so perfect for me.” You slid another finger in her, which was easy considering how wet she’d become. 

“Y/N,” she moaned. “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop,” she said. A few moments later, and she was coming undone on your hand. You were honored. How could you not be, having brought this much pleasure to such a perfect woman. She shook intensely. Her chest rising and falling quickly, as she tried to catch her breath. “That was…” she trailed off. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m not done with you, though. Lay down.”

You two laid down for a few moments, as Addison tried to regain her composure. Once she did, she was practically full energy as her hands found their way to your core. “Addie…” you moaned quietly.

“Yes, baby?” she asked, as she slid two fingers inside you.

“Oh, fuck. I’m not gonna last, Addie.”

“I know,” she replied, a smirk on her face as she worked her fingers in and out of you. She began to move her fingers inside you quickly, pressing against your g-spot over-and-over. She had you exactly how she wanted you to in mere seconds. 

“Addison,” you warned between heavy breaths. “Addison, please. Addie… Addie, I’m gonna cum for you.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me,” her words sent you over the edge for the second time that night. When Addison pulled her fingers out of you, she laid next to you, the both of you tired out for the night. She wiped her fingers on a tissue, before helping you under the covers.

“Did you plan on that happening?” you asked her. At the beginning of the night, you hadn’t even considered having sex with Addison.

“Not really, but it is prom night, after all,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Addison said. She was warm, and being in her arms felt amazing. Your mind wanted to go a hundred miles a minute, thinking about everything that just happened. You told yourself you would think about it tomorrow, whenever you weren’t busy answering the questions from your friends. Sleep came first. Especially if Addison told you so.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 16 [final chapter] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): talk of past drug use and withdrawal symptoms.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 13 / chapter 14 / chapter 15

[love renée but fuck am i getting sick of this gif. been looking at it for sixteen goshdarned chapters. finally i am freed.]

You woke up first. Naturally. Every time, every single morning that you'd had sleepovers, you'd been the first to wake up. The sun was shining through the blinds in a pleasant, warm yellow tone. Still morning but not unreasonably early.

You shifted to a more upright position, looking down at the girl still snoozing, whose hand was holding onto your forearm. She was all sprawled out, starfished as much as one could be on a couch. Her body was taking up the shorter end of the L-shape, one knee curled up towards her body, just barely on the couch, while the other stretched well beyond the end of the divan. You were situated much the same, except the other way around. You laid on the longer end so that your heads had almost met in the corner.

Her arms reached out towards you, one around your pillow and the other holding onto you. You knew you'd fallen asleep with much more distance between you, but you couldn't say you minded her having drifted.

Did you, though? You sighed and grumbled as you got up. Might as well do something while you contemplated reality, or something. Mrs George had insisted on some classic American breakfast ingredients, such as bacon and pancake mix. You didn't feel like causing a fire hazard, so pancakes were a no-go, at least for now. Eggs and bacon you could do.

What did you even, like, want? Realistically, actually, no, unrealistically what did you want? There was no sense in trying to make your base wants and desires realistic because at that point was any of that yours anymore? Likely not.

You wanted nights spent with Regina, talking and eating take-out, laughing until your tummy hurt and looking at her glowing in the blue light of whatever Adult Swim show was on at the time. You wanted grocery trips with Mrs George and to go to Kylie's games. You wanted people at school to just, simply not be jerks. You wanted Janis to find peace. You wanted Cady to wake up.

You wanted yesterday to not have happened. You wanted Thanksgiving dinner at the Georges' to never have happened. You wanted for your dad to be different, for Mr George to be different. You wanted your mom to not have died.

Looking at the bacon sizzling in the pan, you chewed on your lips and thought about that. You wanted many things. So many things, mostly for things to not have happened or to have happened differently. It was all wildly unrealistic. You were not a wizard, a time-traveller, or some other mystic being. You were a teenager.

You cracked the eggs into the mix. God, it smelled divine. You pulled a salt and pepper shaker from the spice rack and sprinkled a reasonable amount on there. You groaned out loud and threw your head back when you remembered there was sriracha in the fridge. Mrs George had seen you eyeing the bottle and had not taken a no for an answer, despite your abundant protestations.

"Spare your kitchen utensils the horror and go masturbate in your room like a normal person!" Regina hollered from the living room.

"Oh! Spatula! Harder! Harder!" You cried, moaning like you were receiving the blowie of your life. "If you want breakfast you're gonna have to witness this sordid affair." You called back, giggling. You leaned back from the stove, bending back at the waist. Regina was leaning her chin on the armrest, still more or less sprawled on your couch. There was a pout on her lips and a light flush to her cheeks.

"I'll show you sordid, nerd." She grouched before getting up. You straightened your posture, turning back to the stove, and probed the eggs in the pan with the spatula with a satisfied grin on your face.

You wanted this and more, above all. Was that something you were allowed to want? More importantly, was that something you were allowed to ask for?

Regina came up behind you, hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You didn't jump, much, which you were proud of.

"Looks yummy." She pointed out.

You hummed in agreement. "Can you put toast in the toaster?"

"Sure."

Then, as if no time at all passed, you were sitting down. Then eating and chatting. There was toast, eggs and bacon, and you'd made yourself a bowl of oatmeal. Mrs George had splurged on some blueberries and local honey. Regina refused to make eye contact when you were chewing, citing that your O-face was hard to look at. You only moaned louder and made more faces at her.

Then, just as you were heading to the couch to digest the meal as god intended, lying down, Regina yanked you to the foyer. Still in your jammies and everything, she insisted you bundle up and go for that walk she was talking about yesterday.

You'd hoped she would've forgotten. Sure, the weather was nice for once but if you didn't have to go outside then why would you? It was below freezing!

Much like her mother, she would not budge. You were going on a walk.

"What am I? A dog?" You muttered as you wrapped your scarf around your neck.

"If you were a dog, you'd be a... A Doberman." She was already dressed. It was odd for your roles to have switched like this. Usually, you were the one waiting for her to get ready. She had on a thick, white parka and a cute beanie. She also had on black leggings sure to insulate absolutely nothing and bulky, also black, fur boots.

"What? 'Cause I'm big and scary?" You preened at that, smiling widely.

"Nope." She tilted her head, examining you. "Gloves."

"Geez, okay, mom." You grabbed some mittens from the hat rack. "Why Doberman?"

"They wouldn't look so scary if they didn't have their ears clipped, y'know?" She said. You just looked at her weirdly, not catching her meaning. Your ears were not clipped. "Anyway, let's go."

"Aye aye," With that, you were out of the door.

You walked the block and down to the street. The sidewalk stopped so you went by the side of the road. She was walking ahead of you. It was cold out but not too windy, so it didn't feel so bad.

The sidewalk started again eventually. There, you walked side by side. You were just looking at a bird perched on a wire when you felt her grab your hand. Thinking she had something to say, you turned to look at her. She was still facing forward, the other hand in her pocket, walking along. She was just holding your hand.

Oh. Oh. She was holding your hand. Out in public. Not a lot of people were out at this hour, not even cars since it was a weekend. There was a woman with a stroller. A psychopathic man out on a jog. A dog walker. Still, it was outside where anyone who walked by could see.

You arrived at the park, hands clasped together. You stopped by a bench.

"I don't think we should sit." You said, observing the coating of snow piled on top.

"Let's go over there." Regina pointed to a tree a little ways away.

You went obediently, following the tug of her hand in yours. She was holding your hand. You felt all warm in your chest, like you were full of warm water.

You stopped by the tree. She looked around, trying to spot if anybody was nearby. Then, like she had a secret to tell you, she motioned for you to bend down closer. You did. Her hand squeezed at your fingers as the other came up to your neck, pulling you down the rest of the way.

The warmth you'd felt became hot, like an oil fire erupting in the foil-covered saucepan that was your heart, kernels and half-popped popcorn sputtering out as she kissed you. Your eyes just barely got to shutter closed before she pulled away. Instinctively, your body so starved of affection and touch, you chased her and found her lips again.

She smiled against your mouth. It felt like a secret of the utmost importance being shared, like a pinkie finger wrapped around your own in the corner of the room during a sleepover, giggled promises and childish adoration. She tasted vaguely like breakfast, and maybe egg-breath should've been nasty, but it wasn't.

Cold seeping in, the anxious feeling like you were soon going to be caught taking hold, you pulled away. You didn't lean away entirely, crowding her against the tree. When you'd gotten so close, pinned her, you weren't sure.

"Do..." What were you supposed to say post-kiss? "Do you like it sloppy?"

"What?" Her brows furrowed and the smile on her face turned sharper. What to say post-kiss: Not That.

"Uh, I mean, I just- uh..." You swallowed. "I don't know how to, like, I don't have technique. I dunno. Was that good? I saw Aaron was doing it differently..."

Regina rolled her eyes, head thumping lightly against the tree as her neck lolled back. "You would bring up Aaron now." She sighed. "It's fine. It's- it's good."

"Okay." You swallowed again. A slow smile crept up to your face. "It was good?"

"Ugh, yes, shut up." She shoved you away, but you just allowed the momentum to swing you back to her. "I... I don't think I'm good at words."

You chuckled at that. "No, you're not." She glared. You shrugged. "But, hey, you know me. I'm Chatty Kathy."

"No," She huffed through her nose, seemingly in frustration. "I wish I could say to you what I mean. What I feel. But I just... It's... It's not supposed to be but it's embarrassing."

Looking at her, hunched in on herself like a girl her age was supposed to be at times, so different from how she was most of the time, made your chest feel tight. You figured a person having been raised like she was, having turned out the way she had, would find being vulnerable uncomfortable. Or, as she said it, embarrassing.

Then again, it wasn't your place nor your duty to psycho-analyze her.

"Reg, I..." You hesitated. "I'm tired of, like, sitting in the passenger seat while you bulldoze everyone. I'm tired of feeling like if I do something you don't like you'll push me under too." You pulled away from her, hands getting sore from leaning your weight against the rough bark. "And then there's this whole thing." You gestured around you at the empty park. "Even if we were the best couple ever in terms of, I dunno, vibes or something, we're still..."

"Lesbians." She finished for you. "I'm a lesbian, Jorts." A sentence you never thought you'd hear from Regina George. "I know. For me, it felt justified for a long time, keeping them in their place, but since we started talking again, doing all that stuff just started to seem... Unimportant. And stupid." She fiddled with her fingers, eyes glued to the space between you. "It hasn't gone away. I still want to, I guess, hurt people because it does make me feel better even if it's, like, fucked up. But I want something else more than I want that."

"What's that?" You couldn't help but ask, hope stuck in your throat. Choking hazard.

"You, obviously." She said it so flippantly as if those words didn't just send your heart into the Milky Way. "I want you. I'll stop doing that stuff for you. I know we can't be out yet, but I... I have good grades."

You looked at her, puzzled. She huffed and continued. "I'll go to college. Major in, uh, I dunno, some sorta politics and I'll change the law. Maybe a law degree would work better for that, actually." She seemed to think about it for a moment before returning to her point. "Whichever one would be best in getting gay marriage legalized."

"You..." You had to laugh at that, disbelieving as well as delighted. "You're gonna change the world for me?"

"If that's what it takes." She said, determination shining so bright it made your eyes water.

"Wow, okay." You licked your lips, trying to will the stupid grin off your face. You had some important questions still. "If I moved away, would you still stop?"

She paused at that. Took a moment to really look at you, like she hadn't considered that to be a real possibility.

"Yes." She sounded so sure you believed her. "I just don't have... What it takes anymore. I guess. I don't know if there's something wrong with me that I... I want to be mean, sometimes. It's funny. For me." She glanced down and then looked somewhere over your shoulder. "It took a lot of work to get to what Regina George is now. I don't want to put in all that next year."

"Y'know what they say. New year, new me." You quipped, looking down at her. You were quite sure your pupils had morphed into heart shapes, despite your valiant efforts to have this meaningful conversation without seeming like a love-drunk idiot.

(She kissed you. You kissed her. It was a beautiful morning, you were on a walk and you'd held hands and then you'd kissed under a barren willow tree. It was the first day of Christmas break and you were spending it with Regina George.)

"Does that mean I can be a raging bitch till January 1st?" She asked, eyebrow notching.

You laughed. "Only if you..." You bit your bottom lip, getting nervous. "Only if I get a kiss for every mean thing you say."

"Deal." She offered her hand to you, a cheesy smile on her face.

You pulled your glove off and spit on your hand, then made to take hers.

"Ew! That's disgusting!" She flinched away from you, violently shoving herself back against the tree. "Don't- no! Not near me! Don't touch me with that!"

She bolted and you ran after her, cackling maniacally. You waved your spat-on hand at her as you chased her around the park, her shrieking and you laughing.

"I'm serious, J!" She looked at you over her shoulder as she ran. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running away from me!"

"You're just gonna smear your spit on me, you- you fiend!"

"Pinky swear I won't!"

"I won't pinky-swear with your disgusting paws, you-"

With a yelp, Regina tripped over something, probably a root, and fell to the ground. You, having been closing in on her, put the brakes on, windmilled your arms, and tried to stop, but soon followed her into the snow.

"Ouf!" The breath wooshed out of her as you fell on her. She wheezed as you rolled off of her, half-heartedly punching in your direction. You giggled and dodged to the best of your ability, not even minding the snow seeping through your pyjama pants.

Giving some time for her to recover, you laid on your back and looked up at the sky. Clear blue with some thick, greyish clouds looming in the peripheral, morning was turning to day fast. Soon, the park would surely get some more traffic. Kids and their adults, mostly. There was a sizeable play area in the centre. You were pretty much on the outskirts of the park.

It was a familiar spot. You and the guys used to meet your other friends here all the time. Those times it'd been night, too dark to see the faces of the guys with big gym bags, filled to bursting with little plastic baggies and glass bottles.

You turned your head to look at her once her breathing had quieted down.

"You bitch," She hissed at you, the usual venom in her voice gone, replaced by exhaustion. You could only smile, somewhat sheepish but mostly just happy.

"It'd be a lot harder to resist if we were still in school, y'know." You said, turning back to watch the sky. "You can't change the law until we graduate. Until then, we're stuck here. And then, let's say you do change the law and it's passed, it's gonna take some time for people to accept that."

"Yeah," Regina agreed, folding her arms under her chin to lean on.

"And you can say that you'll change a hundred times easily, but actually doing it is different."

"When did you get so wise?"

"When I was all alone for years and did some stupid stuff."

"Like what?" You could tell she wouldn't be expecting what you said next. Even you weren't expecting it.

"You know how I sell drugs and alcohol, right? Where do you think I get the stuff from? I got to know some people while we weren't talking." You sighed. Remembering those times, the worst of them, still so fresh despite it having been years, wasn't nice. "Vandalism, underage drinking, shoplifting, driving without a licence... Did some harder drugs than weed... Stupid shit. I stopped most of it when I got caught the last time and almost went to juvie. Dad got me out, somehow. Probably threw money at people."

You turned your head to look at Regina. She was already paying keen attention to you. "I told my mandated therapist I was gonna change. I said I wasn't going to ever do anything like that ever again. I lied, of course."

"When did you actually stop, then?" She asked.

"Months after the mandated therapy was over." You put your hands in your pockets, getting cold. "I wanted to do it before then. I wanted to just, not be that. A druggie fifteen-year-old spraypainting some dilapidated trailer, hanging around guys that were way too old to be hanging around me. I didn't want to be that but at the same time being anything else was terrifying. I don't think highly of myself, but that was low even for me. Then, Mrs George found me one time."

"Mom?" The question was more out of shock than actual inquiry.

"Yeah." You blinked a couple of times. "I was in a bad state. Withdrawals. I made her promise she wouldn't tell my dad if I allowed her to take me home. She was talking the whole ride from downtown to mine, trying to keep me awake. I just lost it. I don't remember what I said or exactly what I did, but she had to pull over and restrain me." You gulped. "It was awful. Then she offered that I could mow your lawn for some money. I used it the first couple of times to get a new dose. She used to ask what I'd be spending it on and those times I had some bullshit excuse, but the first time I said I was probably gonna get some McDonalds', she cried. Cried real actual tears." You didn't feel like looking at Regina, but you could feel her eyes on the side of your head. "After that it just... It wasn't worth it."

"You never told me." Regina breathed out, still sounding shocked.

"I didn't want to." You turned onto your side, body facing her. "I was- am ashamed."

You didn't feel shame now, though. You undoubtedly would later, tomorrow perhaps, but not now. You were glad for it. You regretted it, wished you hadn't gone down that road, but lying there in the cold snow there was only indifference. That had happened. You had done that.

"Me too." She whispered. "Obviously, it's not the same, but-"

"I know what you mean. And it could be more similar than you think. Quitting an addiction is hard, but I wouldn't say quitting a behaviour is easy."

"It's stupid to compare drug addiction to being a bitch." Regina huffed, a frown on her face. "It's incomparable."

"Well, then let's not compare. Both can be hard in their own way without diminishing the other. What I'm trying to point out is that," You thought for a moment. "We're both trying to get over a bad, toxic habit that feels safe and good and like the only option, without seeing the merit or the other supposedly better option first. It's scary."

"Are you still trying to get over it?"

"I haven't been on drugs since, no. But it's not something that goes away. Not ever."

"And you're still kinda in it." She said, remembering your hustle around the school.

"Yeah. I can't expect you to be all buddy-buddy with everybody suddenly. That'd be hypocritical."

"So what do we do?"

What a question. One that you did not have the answer to. You didn't feel unsettled by the confusion. You hadn't told anyone of your dark past (gosh, could you be any more emo?) since those that knew had just kind of stumbled across it, so telling somebody felt... Good. You'd just sort of blurted it all out without thinking about it too much.

"Can we go back home? I wanna..." You stopped, realizing I wanna make out with you on the couch sounded awfully crude.

A lecherous grin spread Regina's cheeks. "Oh, I see. You just want me for my body."

"No!" You denied, indignant. "I would never."

"You would never want me for my body." She reiterated, purposefully misconstruing what you said. "Wow. Just wow."

"Regina, c'mon, I just mean..."

"Say what you were gonna say." She rolled away and up, towering above you with a twinkling smile pointed down at your prone body.

"Let's just go," You said and tried to get up. Like some bondage dominatrix, she pushed you back down with a shoe on your chest.

You hated how that sort of got to you. Your heart beat faster against her Ugg. Hopefully, she didn't feel it through the thick sole.

"Nuh-uh. Say it."

"I... I wanna make..." You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. "I wanna go home and make out with you on the couch."

"Oh, that wasn't so hard, now was it, baby? Let's go."

It was only once you'd made it back, chucked your wet clothes into the hamper, and spent a considerable amount of time in liplock, that either of you thought to circle back.

"Hey," Regina said, adjusting her weight to not be leaning on you so heavily. Your lips smacked apart and, gosh, now you were the gross ones. "I just now realized,"

"What are you realizing while you're supposed to be kissing me?" You pouted, falling onto your side and away from her. Your hand went over your eyes like you were a swooning maiden. Regina just patted your leg in mock consolation.

"You have your drug thing-" Only she would refer to your past addiction as your drug thing. "but I was, like, the only one doing anything actually wrong. Actively. You know what I mean." You craned your neck to look at her. Your double chin was probably epic.

"I lied to you by omission. I was really mean to you on Thanksgiving."

"Okay, lying by omission was bad and never do that again," She paused, waiting for you to affirm. You nodded solemnly. "But you were only mean after I was mean first. So, both forgiven. Anyway, I'm talking, like... I don't know how to say it."

You blinked. You didn't know what she meant so you couldn't really help. Regina huffed, nails scratching absent-mindedly on your calves.

"You made it sound like we were both wrong for how things exploded." She eventually said. "That was all me."

"I shouldn't have been such a doormat. I let you walk all over me and I never said anything about how I really felt."

"I don't think you can be in the wrong for that."

"I think I can be. At least the way that I was. I could've said something."

"And what would that've achieved? Me cutting you off and nothing changing?"

You clambered up to your elbows. "And now we're here." You smiled, one side a little crooked with how gleeful you were. "Look, we can hash everything out during the break, now just... Let's focus on other things."

Regina, still looking conflicted, caressed a hand up your leg. You shivered. You were in just a hoodie and loose briefs. Regina was more covered up than you, but still in just your old basketball shorts and a big band tee.

"Reggie, I'm getting used to asking for things I shouldn't want. Amuse me." You turned onto your back and hooked your legs around Regina. She fell forward, hands braced on either side of your torso. "Kiss me."

"I just don't want to mess up and have all this go away." She swallowed, a worried crease between her eyebrows.

"I think we're gonna mess up plenty of times. It's a possibility you'll find some justification to make somebody's life hell for a time. I could relapse." You pulled her closer with your legs, arms coming up to cross your fingers behind her neck. "A lot of the time we're not gonna want to admit it, we might not even know it. So, we can lay out a few... Promises, or something."

"Okay," Regina said, gazing down at you like you never imagined. Like you meant things to her. Important things.

"Promise me that you'll listen. Even if you disagree, please hear me out." She nodded seriously. "And, in turn, I promise to speak my mind. When I don't like something, or just like something, I'll say so." Again, she nodded. You loosened your hold on her neck and rubbed your thumbs on her cheeks. Getting to touch her like this, having her literally between your legs, was more than you ever thought you'd get.

Even if this ended in a similar fashion to the Thanksgiving kiss, or even much, much worse, you'd have regretted not taking the chance for the rest of your life.

"And... This is the most important one... Come closer."

Regina shifted closer, bending down, her elbows coming to rest next to your chest as she turned her ear towards you.

You whispered conspiratorially, like this was top-secret: "Still let me do your yard work."

Notes: Fucking christ. I wrote this all in one sitting. 4.3k words. That's like two chapters. I've written long chapters before, longer than this, but I got so used to the 2k on average pace that this felt huge.

Also! Don't be spooked by the [final chapter] marking! This is the last chapter in the story, yes, but we'll be hearing more from Reggie and Jorts still! I have a couple of epilogue sequences I want to write. Would y'all be interested in a poll as to what order those should be published? As in, chronological. Do we start from 10 Years Later... or something more like, idk, next summer? Lmk in the comments :)

This might be counterintuitive to add, and if my lovely amazing readers have exercised their reading comprehension during this series they might get why on a more nuanced level, revenge on Gretchen was left out purposefully. This will not be the last we hear of her, I have some plans for her in some of the epilogues, but yes. That plot point was left open on purpose.

The name. A lot of people like it! I was feeling insecure about my lack of foresight and impulsive naming, but hey, as it turns out it's not that deep! To add, it went really nicely with the end there I think :) No changes will be happening.

This note is getting so long. I just wanna thank everybody that's been along for the ride so far. I read every single comment and check my notifications way too often for new ones. I'm pretty used to writing for quite dead/inactive fandoms on AO3, and I love that site it's my origin, but it's very different to Tumblr. I just feel like people on here are much more open to sharing their thoughts. Everybody who's bore witness to my grief with the taglist, thank you for your patience. And thank you so much for wanting to be on it. I cannot believe people wanted that. For little ole me? Oh, you shouldn't have...

If there are spelling errors or grammatical weirdness, shhh. I'm not reading all that again at 1am. Toodles!

Taglist will be posted separately! Comment on that post if you want to be added to be notified when the epilogies are published!

[bet-on-me-13]

Stranded Danny AU

Danny gets pulled into a faraway Dimension by a Villain one day, just after the events of Phantom Planet. He is barely 15.

He has no way to get back, but he does manage to unlock the power to make Portals. Unfortunately, none of the dimensions he ends up in are his own, and none have enough Ectoplasm to open portals for very long. It takes up to a week to scrounge up enough Ecto to open a single Portal into the next dimension over.

And none of these worlds have Technology strong enough to take him home either. The few times he did find some tech that could potentially get him home, it never worked or it was destroyed before he could finish it.

He spends well over 30 years of his own Personal Timeline trying to get back to his home dimension, constantly gathering scraps of Ectoplasm and Tech until the day he eventually collected enough to build a safe way home.

But time does not pass the same across dimensions.

What to him was a 30 year long Journey, was actually just 10 for his home Dimension.

And they had to move on without him.

Sam became a Business Woman who used her money to fund Nature Preservation Organizations. She hired Pamela Isley and helped her through her powers when she became Poison Ivy (still a Villain, but secretly working for Sam)

Tucker got a high ranking job at Star Labs, and helped Cyborg come to terms with his new life when he became a cyborg. He even helped upgrade his tech a few times.

Jazz became a successful Psychiatrist, and now works under Daina Lance as one of the Justice League's top Therapists, specifically their Child Psychologist for young Heroes

Ellie took his place as a Hero and became the new protector of Amity after he dissappear. After the Justice League was formed, she joined them and became one of their best members, always working and nor really taking many breaks.

They always wondered what happened to Danny, and spent many years trying to figure out what happened to him, but never succeeded. They finally began to assume that he was fully dead after a few years of searching. They had enough time to come to terms with it.

...

So one night, while a 22 yr old Ellie is resting on one of her rare days off, she gets called in by the League about a possible Dimensional Breach near her Home Town. JLD was deployed to investigate, and she was asked to tag along since she was the Resident Hero of the area.

But she refuses, thinking it's just some random ghost trying to enter the Living Realm illegally after she began regulating the Portal. JLD would be able to handle it on their own, let her sleep on her day off!

Meanwhile, JLD has located the spot where the Dimensional Breach is about to appear. They surround the Area, and prepare to interrogate whoever is about to appear, or deal with them if need be.

Space begins to tear apart as the fabric of Reality breaks apart at the seams. And from that wound in existence, an Adult Danny steps out. He is 44 years old, and looks like a less buff version of Dan without the mustache (basically imagine Danny as Ford Pines from Gravity Falls)

The JLD can sense that he is strong, but not too much so. It feels like he is powerful, but like that power has been starved for a while.

"Who are you?" Asks Wonderwoman, ready to jump into battle if needed. "What are your intentions in this World?"

Danny ignores them. He is staring into the Night Sky, eyes wide. The Constellations he hadn't seen in 30 years were there. The stars were in the right locations. He takes a deep breath, tasting the amount of Ectoplasm in thr Air. This is it. He's home. He's finally home.

"Finally" He says breathlessly. A slightly manic Grin on his face.

"What the hell does that mean?" Demands Constantine. The grin had unsettled him, and he began preparing a few spells just to be sure.

Danny ignored him again, this time deciding to close his eyes and finally eat his fill of Ectoplasm for the first time in 30 years. He was ravenous, this was the first decent Meal of Ectoplasm he had been able to have in 30 years. He was giddy, he was so happy to finally be home.

However the Heroes didn't know what was happening. All they knew was that some guy had ripped a hole in reality, said "finally" with a crazy grin on his face, and started emitting a dangerous amount of Death Energy for no apparent reason.

Constantine reacts on impulse, trying to cast a Banishing Spell on this guy.

Danny, feeling the spell begin to pull him away from his home after he had just found it again after Thirty. Fucking. Years. Does something that he would consider reasonable.

He quickly dashes over to Constantine and slams him through a tree.

This sparks a fight between Danny and the JLD. And at first he is having some serious trouble, but as he continues to feed on Ectoplasm and recover his strength, he becomes progressively more Powerful. It comes to the point where the JLD can't keep up anymore, and call in Backup.

Ellie was enjoying her night off, but the desperate Call from JLD about a powerful Entity at the edge of Amity finally got her going.

She rushes over and slams into Danny just as he is about to attack Constantine again. Neither of them recognize eachother, since they have changed since they were kids (Danny moreso) and continue to Duke it out.

Ellie is trying to banter with him, but Danny is really angry at this point. So he resorts to his final attack, his Ghostly Wail.

He levels a good chuck of the Forest, and in the end he is standing over Ellie as his anger fades. He says "Sorry" and he starts taking a look around him to see if there is anybody else.

Ellie is on the ground, shaken because she recognized that power.

She gets up, and asks "Danny?"

Danny finally gets a good look at her and says, and says "Ellie?"

Meanwhile JLD still has ringing in their ears and thinks that Ellie just called Danny "Daddy"

(Which makes sense because of the new age difference)

[daniswoso]

You like me?

Grace Clinton x Reader

Summary: Grace likes you, but you don’t know it; you also like her and you’re sure you have no chance.

Warnings: some swearing, not much else.

*********

“You asked her yet then?” Ella asks, her, Mary and Alessia sitting down by your side. You shake your head solemnly and look out to where Grace was messing around on the training pitch with Beth.

It was a sunny day and the way the light reflected off her simply gorgeous eyes made your heart skip a few beats. “Not yet, I’m not even sure she likes me man.” You groan, sagging against the comfortable sofa.

“Jesus- Y/N, we’ve been over this. She’s so into you! Anyone can spot it from bloody miles away.” Alessia grumbles, scrubbing a hand over her face with an exasperated sigh.

“Y’know what, if anyone had told me I’d be helping two lovesick kids figure out their feelings for each other in Spain? I’d tell them to fuck off. But here I am. So c’mon,” Mary claps her hands and drags you to your feet. “get a move on. Tell her.”

You glare at her and defiantly sit back down, folding your arms. “We’re not kids, grandma. We’re adults, I’ll have you know. I pay taxes.”

“Okay, yeah sure whatever. Just piss off and let us do our puzzles.” Mary pokes you in the sides as you yelp, your sliders nearly falling into the pool as you practically leap off the giant chair.

“Dickhead! Youse lot sat down next to me!” You shout over your shoulder as you walk off, nervously approaching Grace. You’re about to ask when a ball comes flying at your face and you find yourself flat on your ass and dazed, barely aware of the small trail of blood making its way down your chin from your nostrils.

“Jesus, Clinton! You’ll damage the poor girl if you carry on!” You hear Beth shout as you blink back to reality.

Grace hoists you up, murmuring apologies and taking you to get cleaned up, dragging you to her room and into the bathroom.

After a minute of silence you speak up, “I could’ve walked you know?”

“What?” Grace asks, stopping and looking up at you from where she’s knelt down on the floor.

“I could’ve walked.” You repeat again, chuckling and helping her look for a first aid kit, cold cloth still firmly pressed against your nose.

“Oh, uh yeah. Sorry, you just, I-“

“Clinton, mate, it’s fine. Don’t sweat it.” You chuckles, triumphantly pulling the first aid kit from the cupboard with a grin, unaware of the utter heart eyes Grace was sending your way.

Eventually, you’re patched up. Not quite sure what to do, however, you sit there awkwardly while Grace cleans up the plethora of cloths and bandaids she’d gripped from the medicine cabinet to get the first aid kit.

“Hey, Clinton?” It’s then when you remember Alessia’s words,

“She’s so into you! Anyone could spot it from bloody miles away!”

“I like you.”

“I like you too, Y/L/N.”

“No, I like like you. Like… Like like.”

“Are you fuckin’ concussed?” Grace chuckles, but she’s somewhat concerned as she starts gripping your face softly in her hands, urgently but with the utmost care, her thumbs widening your eyes manually to check your pupils.

“No. I’m not. I like you, Grace. Mums.” You breathe out, the fear of rejection gripping your heart with enough force to squeeze it in half.

“Y/N… Shit…” She begins, and you’re sure this is it. The whole “but we can still be mates!” routine youd heard from many girls in the past. Until you feel her lips against yours, soft and tender and moving against you in a way that makes you convinced her lips were made to be against yours.

“I like you too.”

“You? Like me?” You ask, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. Her appearance mirrored yours in a way, although she looked considerably more pretty in your opinion.

“Yeah. Quite a lot actually, and for a while.”

She barely has time to finish her sentence before your lips are against hers again, and when you part you rest your forehead against hers, breathing heavily with the biggest smirk on your face.

“Buzzing.” You breathlessly say.

“You’ve been hanging out with Lessi too much.” She chuckles, making you slap her shoulder softly.

*******

A/N: Small one, but hope it’s enjoyed nonetheless.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Damn Young: Part One

Summary: You and Spencer meet when you're both 18, you fall in love quickly and everything feels like a dream. Unfortunately, reality reminds you that sometimes even though people don't fall out of love, they don't always stay together.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (16+), loss of virginity (not described) young love, unhappy ending, divorced parents, emotional strain with mom

Word count: 11.5k

a/n: this is not a summer fling!!! they are in loveee and i promise there will be a part two and it will be happier!!!

main masterlist

It’s the summer after your senior year of high school, and you’re caught in that strange, in-between space where the world feels wide open but also incredibly small. San Luis Obispo, with its familiar streets and faces, starts to feel more like a cage than the cozy town you grew up in. Everyone around you seems to be moving on, heading off to college, or traveling to far-flung places, leaving you behind to figure out what’s next. You’re not sure what you want to do with your life yet, so for now, you’re staying put, even though it feels like the walls are closing in a little more each day.

“Feet off the coffee table, Y/N,” your mother sighed as she walked into the living room, her voice carrying the usual exhaustion and concern.

You glanced up from your phone, your feet still comfortably propped up on the coffee table. “You never cared before…” you muttered, not really in the mood for another one of these talks.

She sighed again, more deeply this time, as if she was bracing herself for what she was about to say. “Well, before, you were in school and not at home all day.”

You frowned, feeling the sting of her words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t you get a job? Or go make some friends?” she suggested, her tone trying to be encouraging but not quite hitting the mark. “Oh! You could go walk on campus, maybe it will inspire you.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted to do was wander around a college campus that wasn’t even yours, pretending to be inspired by something you weren’t sure you even cared about. But the way your mother was looking at you, with hope and a touch of worry, made you bite back the sarcastic response that was on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you just sighed and looked away, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “Maybe,” you mumbled, not committing to anything, but not outright refusing either. You could tell she wanted you to do something, anything, to shake off this sense of being stuck. But the truth was, you weren’t sure where to start, or if you even wanted to.

—

Spencer Reid arrived in town carrying the weight of moving his mother into a mental care facility, something that’s left him feeling more vulnerable than ever. Starting his PhD program in a new place where he doesn’t know anyone is daunting, but there’s a flicker of hope that things might be different this time. He’s no longer the child prodigy being scrutinized by older students; now, at least, he’s finally an adult, and maybe—just maybe—people will see him as one.

He opened the door to his new apartment, the hinges creaking slightly as it swung open to reveal the small, yet functional space that would be his home for the foreseeable future. The apartment was modest, furnished with the bare essentials, but it was clean and had a certain charm, or so he tried to convince himself. This place was provided by the program he was a part of, a stroke of pure luck. 

Spencer set down his suitcase and took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to ground himself in this new reality. As he began to unpack and organize, the familiar rhythm of settling in started to take over, a ritual he had grown accustomed to over the years. But as he moved from room to room, he quickly realized something unsettling—he lacked a lot of the basic things that had always been provided for him in other housing situations, like the dorms and shared accommodations he had known before.

No dish soap, no paper towels, no trash bags—nothing that could help him actually live in this space comfortably. The realization hit him harder than it should have, maybe because of the long day, or maybe because of everything else weighing on his mind.

Spencer glanced at the clock. It was just past midnight. The last thing he wanted to do was venture out into the world right now, but he knew he had to. He couldn’t just sit here, surrounded by empty shelves and a lingering sense of displacement. With a resigned sigh, he decided it was time to go on a mission—a mission to find a store that was open this late.

He grabbed his jacket, mentally preparing himself for the challenge ahead. “How many people could really be out at 12 a.m. on a Tuesday?” he muttered to himself, trying to inject some optimism into his tone, though it came out more as a question than a statement.

As he stepped outside into the cool night air, the streets of San Luis Obispo were quieter than he expected, almost eerily so. The unfamiliarity of the town, combined with the late hour, made him feel like he was stepping into a different world altogether. But there was a certain solace in the solitude, a small comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have to navigate crowds or make small talk with strangers.

—

You wandered down the aisles of the 24-hour market, the quiet hum of the overhead lights and the distant sound of a radio playing in the background the only noise in the otherwise silent store. It was strange to see it so empty, almost eerie, but there was a certain comfort in not having to navigate through crowds or make polite small talk with anyone. Tonight was all about one thing: satisfying that sudden, undeniable craving for your favorite ice cream.

As you rounded the corner into the freezer section, your mind focused on the treat you were about to indulge in, a sharp pain shot through your foot. "Ow!" you yelped, instinctively jumping back from the source of the pain—a shopping cart that had just run over your toes.

"Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I didn’t see you there," came a voice from the other side of the cart, the owner of it looking every bit like a kicked puppy. His face was a mix of genuine concern and a hint of panic, as if this small accident was the last thing he needed tonight.

You bit back the initial irritation, quickly realizing this guy was already on the verge of a meltdown. "It’s fine, man, it’s not like there’s a lot of people around to watch out for anyway," you joked, hoping to ease the tension. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into some big, awkward thing.

He tried to laugh, though it came out shaky and unsure. “Ye—yeah, it’s pretty late.”

You nodded, sensing his awkwardness and suddenly feeling a bit of it yourself. "Yup, well, try not to run anyone else over," you teased lightly, giving him a small smile before stepping past him to continue your mission.

As you walked away, Spencer shook his head, his expression clouding over with self-reproach. He started mumbling to himself, words of self-criticism spilling out in a low voice, but you didn’t catch any of it. Your mind was already back on your goal, and when you finally spotted your favorite ice cream, all thoughts of the encounter slipped away. 

With your prize in hand, you made your way to the checkout and then headed home, unaware of the lingering impact that brief interaction had left on him.

—

Spencer finally felt like he had made his new apartment feel like home. The once-empty shelves were now stocked with cleaning supplies and other basic necessities, and though he wasn’t really one for decorating, the furniture provided by the campus and his own collection of books, awards, and memorabilia gave the space a sense of familiarity. It wasn’t flashy, but it was his.

Yet, after a few days of getting settled, Spencer began to feel something gnawing at him—a sense of being cooped up. He was no stranger to spending long hours alone, buried in his studies or lost in thought, but the endless California sunshine streaming through his windows, and the distant sounds of laughter and life happening outside, started to pull at him. The world outside felt alive in a way his apartment couldn’t match.

Spencer stood by his bookshelf, running a finger along the spines of his well-loved volumes, but the itch to get out and breathe the fresh air was undeniable. Maybe it was time to explore a little, to break up the routine and experience something new. He recalled reading about a bookstore down by the beach, a place that sounded like the perfect combination of quiet and lively—somewhere he could disappear into a sea of books but still feel connected to the world outside.

Grabbing his tote bag, empty and ready to be filled with new reads, Spencer slung it over his shoulder. With one last glance around his apartment, he stepped out, feeling a sense of excitement with a touch of nerves. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but he knew he needed to be out there, under that California sun, even if just for a little while. The bookstore by the beach seemed like the perfect place to start.

—

Your mom had really been on your case lately, pushing you to get out of the house and do something with your time. She’d made it clear that your late-night escapades didn’t count, much to your dismay. Each time you’d excitedly recount your quiet midnight walks or the random people you’d encounter, she would just shake her head, unimpressed. She meant during the day—when the sun was shining and the world was alive.

So, in an effort to appease her, you started to drag yourself out of bed each morning and head down to the beach. If you had to be outside, you might as well make the most of it. Lazing around on the sand didn’t seem so bad, especially when you could feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. You convinced yourself that at least you’d get a tan out of this forced outdoor time, right?

After a few days of this new routine, something caught your eye—a "help wanted" sign hanging in the window of a small bookstore that sat right along the sandy sidewalk of the beach. You paused, considering it for a moment. Working in a bookstore couldn’t be all that bad. After all, you loved reading. The idea of spending your days surrounded by books sounded infinitely better than more awkward mother-daughter conversations about your lack of daytime activities.

With that thought, you stepped inside and inquired about the position. The place smelled like old paper and salt air, and the sweet old man behind the counter greeted you with a kind, if tired, smile. He explained that he desperately needed help; his partner had passed recently, and he had been struggling to keep the shop running on his own. They had no children or kin to pass the shop along to, and he had resigned himself to working alone—until you walked in.

You applied on the spot and, to your surprise, heard back immediately. They really needed the help. The next day, you started as their first and only employee, stepping into a quiet world of books and stories just waiting to be discovered.

—

The bell above the door dinged, signaling a customer had entered the bookstore. You bookmarked your place in the novel you’d been reading and set it aside before calling out, “Welcome in.”

At first glance, the customer paid no attention to you, his focus solely on the shelves of books in front of him. But as you looked up from your counter, you froze for a second—it was the guy from the 24-hour market. The one who had run over your toes with his cart. For a brief moment, panic surged through you, the irrational thought crossing your mind that maybe he was stalking you. But that idea quickly faded when you remembered how adorably awkward he had been. And, if you were honest with yourself, even if he was stalking you, you might just be flattered. He was quite attractive—adorable in a geeky way, charming in an awkward way, and just plain handsome.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you slid off your stool behind the counter and walked over to where he was browsing, his nose already buried in the pages of a book. “Can I help you find anything?” you asked, leaning over his shoulder with your hands behind your back, trying to get a glimpse of what he was reading.

Spencer, completely absorbed in the first chapter of the book, didn’t hear you approach. He yelped and dropped the book, spinning around to face you with wide eyes. “Uh—um, no—no thank you, miss,” he stammered, clearly flustered both from the shock of your sudden presence and the quick realization that you were the same person he’d bumped into at the market. And now, seeing you up close in the daylight, he was even more struck by how pretty you were.

You chuckled, reaching down to grab the book he had dropped. “This is a good one,” you said, handing it back to him with a friendly smile. “I read it last week. I’d definitely recommend it.”

Spencer took the book from your hand, his own hands almost shaking. “Th-thank you,” he managed, clearing his throat. “Thank you…”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, grinning a little wider. “And you are?”

“Spencer Reid. Uh, Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer Reid,” you teased, “it’s nice to see you again. Are my toes safe this time?”

Spencer blinked, and then recognition lit his eyes as he remembered. His face flushed with embarrassment, but he gave you a small, sheepish smile. “Yes, your toes are perfectly safe this time,” he assured you, still clearly flustered but trying to keep his cool.

“That’s good to hear,” you stifled a laugh, unable to resist teasing him further. “I can’t say the same about yours, though,” you added over your shoulder, turning to walk back toward the counter.

Spencer, intrigued and not quite understanding what you meant, quickly asked, “What? Why not?” He followed after you, just as you had hoped he would.

When you reached the counter, you nodded your head toward him, silently encouraging him to join you. He hesitated, glancing around the quiet, empty store, but when he saw no one else there, he finally gave in and walked over.

“She’s why,” you giggled softly, leaning down to scratch the head of an old tabby cat that had appeared on the counter. She purred loudly, her eyes half-closed in contentment. Spencer’s eyes softened at the sight of the cat.

“Oh, she’s so pretty,” he mused, leaning in next to you to scratch the cat as well.

“Careful,” you began to warn, “she—oh,” you said, surprised as Nala, the cat, nuzzled affectionately into Spencer’s hand. “She usually doesn’t take well to strangers, especially men.”

Spencer blushed a little, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief. “Really?”

You nodded, watching the way Nala practically melted under his touch. “Yeah, I guess you’re special,” you said, smiling at him.

And you weren’t wrong. As Spencer continued to visit the bookstore at least once a week, sometimes just to browse, sometimes to chat, you’d come to realize just how special he really was. Nala certainly knew it first, and as time went on, you couldn’t help but see it too.

—

“So,” you sighed dramatically, flipping through the newspaper in search of the crossword puzzle, “my mom is making me go out to our lake house in Lake Tahoe all by myself this year to check on it. She doesn’t want to go without her new girlfriend, and the girlfriend doesn’t want to go, period.” You rolled your eyes, clearly exasperated, as you vented to Spencer. He nodded along, his eyes fixed on you, absorbing every word like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I have to drive all the way there, almost seven hours, just to make sure the heat pump still works, the pipes didn’t burst during the winter, and all that other nonsense,” you continued, your frustration spilling out in each sentence.

Spencer seemed to mull over your words for a moment, the gears in his mind turning before he casually shrugged and said, “I’ll go with you.”

Your head snapped up, your voice jumping an octave. “What?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, more cautiously this time. “I mean, if you want me to. I could keep you company. I don’t know how to drive, but… you wouldn’t be alone.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by his offer. “Wait—what? You don’t know how to drive? How old are you again?”

“Y/N…” Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes dropping for a second before he met your gaze again. “You know I’m 18, and you know I was a child prodigy. I didn’t have time to learn how to drive.”

The realization made you laugh, an idea immediately sparking in your mind. “I could teach you!” you said, jumping off your stool in excitement.

“No, no, that’s a bad idea,” Spencer protested quickly, shaking his head as if the thought of being behind the wheel terrified him.

“It’s a great idea!” you argued, grinning at him. “You come to Tahoe with me, and I’ll teach you how to drive. It’s perfect!”

Spencer hesitated, clearly unsure about the whole thing, but your enthusiasm was hard to resist. Even he couldn’t deny that the trip might be a little more interesting with you by his side.

“Fine,” Spencer finally relented, though the nervous edge to his voice lingered. “But on my terms.”

You grinned, raising your hands in surrender. “Deal! Oh my god, this is so exciting. Now I’m actually looking forward to it!”

Spencer smiled shyly, his heart doing an odd little flip at your enthusiasm. Over the past few weeks, he had realized that his crush on you had grown significantly, but he couldn’t quite figure out if you felt the same. Sometimes, he thought you might—there were moments when your smiles lingered a little too long or your teasing became just a little too playful. But then there were the times when you casually mentioned people asking you out, and it made him doubt whether you saw him that way at all.

“When are we going?” he asked, trying to push the uncertainty out of his mind.

“Oh, yeah, hah,” you laughed lightly, “We’d leave Saturday morning.”

“Oh!” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “As in two days from now? Why are you just now telling me?”

“My mom just told me!” you said, shrugging like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Fair enough.” Spencer sighed, already mentally preparing himself for the trip. “I’ll go home and start packing. See you Saturday? Should I meet you here?”

You shook your head and handed him your phone, your fingers brushing against his as he took it. “Hmm, no. Here, put in your number and text me your address. I’ll pick you up.”

Spencer blushed, the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. “Okay…” he mumbled as he carefully entered his number into your phone, hoping his hands weren’t shaking too noticeably.

You took the phone back, flashing him one last grin before heading back to the counter. Spencer, now flustered and nervous about the weekend ahead, could only hope that maybe—just maybe—this trip would give him the chance to figure out where he stood with you.

—

As you drove along the winding roads leading to the lake house, Spencer's knuckles turned white as he clutched the door handle, his life flashing before his eyes with every sharp turn and sudden stop. Your driving might have been a bit... enthusiastic, but he found it hard to complain when he saw how happy you were, with the wind in your hair and a bright smile on your face. The open road seemed to breathe life back into you, away from home and responsibilities.

Spencer found himself utterly captivated. It wasn’t just the excitement of the trip—it was you. The way you belted out lyrics to your favorite songs without a care in the world, or how you launched into endless stories that would zigzag through a million different tangents before somehow snapping back to the original point. It was chaotic, but in the best way. In those moments, he could easily say this was already shaping up to be the best summer of his life.

At one point, you caught him staring, and with a mischievous smile, you asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer shook himself out of his daze, heat creeping up his neck. “Oh, uh, you’re really pre—crazy. You’re a crazy driver,” he blurted out, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Your laughter echoed in the car, ignoring his slip-up as you teased, “You love it.”

Eventually, the car rolled to a stop in the driveway of your vacation home, a secluded and stunning house nestled right by the water. The lake stretched out in front of it, reflecting the trees and the sky in the stillness of the water. Spencer took in the sight, his unease fading as he realized just how beautiful and peaceful the place was.

“Wait…” Spencer said, a hint of mock worry creeping into his voice. “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?”

That startled a huge laugh out of you. “Shit, that was precisely my plan, but now you’ve ruined it!”

You both grabbed your bags and a few supplies from the car before making your way into the cozy lake house. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the scent of pine and the comforting warmth of the space. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement—it had been a while since you'd been here, and it felt like a retreat from everything back home.

“Okay!” you clapped your hands together. “Why don’t you go and take a look around? I’ll handle the checks really quick so we can just enjoy our time here!”

Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of awe as he wandered off to explore. The house was even more beautiful inside, with large windows showcasing the shimmering lake, tall ceilings, and wooden accents that gave it a rustic charm. It felt like the perfect getaway. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to be here, to experience something like this with you.

Despite growing up in Nevada, his family never brought him to places like this. His father had left when Spencer was young, and his mother’s declining health meant that traveling was difficult, even impossible at times. As he wandered through the house, looking at the furniture, the wooden beams, and the peaceful surroundings, Spencer felt a twinge of sadness mixed with gratitude. This was new for him—a taste of something he hadn’t even realized he missed out on.

“Hey, Spence, you good?” you asked, coming up behind him, startling him once again.

He jumped slightly, spinning around to face you with a sheepish grin. “Yup! Just… taking in the view.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, the gesture so casual yet intimate. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, soaking in the peaceful surroundings through the large windows overlooking the lake.

Spencer felt the warmth of your presence, the soft weight of your head on his shoulder, and for a brief second, the world outside seemed to fade away. He glanced down at you, trying to calm the flutter of his heart, feeling like maybe—just maybe—you were seeing this moment the same way he was.

—

The sky had turned into a blanket of stars, each one twinkling like a small firefly against the deep navy blue. The crisp night air had set in, making the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around yourself all the more comforting as you sat on the deck, gazing up at the infinite sky.

Spencer was sitting nearby, his eyes occasionally darting from the stars to you, as if he were trying to capture both views. His natural curiosity about the universe seemed to blend with the simple contentment of just being here with you. The soft sound of water lapping against the dock and the quiet chirping of night creatures made everything feel serene.

You noticed him shiver slightly from the cool breeze that had picked up, and without thinking twice, you lifted the corner of the blanket and turned toward him. “Hey, come join me under here. It’s freezing out.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed the invitation, but after only a beat, he scooted closer, accepting your offer. He slid under the blanket beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he tried to get comfortable.

“Better?” you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips as you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

He nodded, the warmth from the blanket and your closeness making him feel more at ease. “Much better,” he replied, a shy but pleased smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly and leaned in just a little closer. “You know, Spence, I never pegged you for a stargazer.”

He glanced up at the sky again, his eyes shining with the reflection of the stars above. “I guess I’ve just never really had the opportunity to appreciate it. But this…” He gestured slightly to the sky and then to you, his voice soft. “It’s kind of perfect.”

You felt a warm flush at his words, your smile deepening as you nudged him playfully. “I’ll take the credit for the blanket and the company, but I can’t do much about the stars.”

Spencer chuckled, his laughter quiet and warm. “Well, you’re definitely making it better,” he said, his tone flirtatious but still unsure, like he was testing the waters. He shifted just slightly under the blanket, your shoulders now pressed against each other, the warmth between you a comforting contrast to the cool night air.

You turned your head toward him, catching his gaze in the soft glow of the moonlight. “I think you’re the one making it better, actually,” you teased lightly, the flirty edge in your voice impossible to miss.

Spencer’s breath caught for just a second, and he smiled—a real, genuine, and slightly bashful smile that made your heart skip. Neither of you said anything more for a moment, just sitting there, cozy under the shared blanket, watching the stars as the night wrapped itself around you.

—

The next morning, Spencer woke up feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long time—excitement. He jumped out of bed, an unusual spring in his step as he followed the delicious smell of pancakes drifting through the house. His heart was still fluttering from the night before, but the cozy warmth he felt with you had turned into something more eager and alive.

As he stepped into the kitchen, the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks. You were standing at the stove, wearing the tiniest pair of shorts Spencer had ever seen, paired with a tight tank top that hugged your curves and rolls in ways that made his pulse race. His mouth went dry—well, until the smell of the pancakes reached him again, and he couldn’t tell if his hunger was for the food or… well, you.

You turned at the sound of his footsteps, flashing him a playful smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead! I know you’ve got a sweet tooth, so don’t even think about telling me you don’t like pancakes,” you teased, pointing a spatula at him in mock accusation.

For a moment, Spencer was utterly starstruck. You looked radiant, the soft morning light streaming in through the windows making you glow. But what really sent him reeling was how the thin material of your tank top clung to you, especially how your breasts pressed against it as you moved. He quickly looked up, his face already heating, but his brain seemed to short-circuit for a second.

“Uh, um, yeah, I love pancakes,” he stammered, trying his best to sound normal. “Thank you.” 

You smiled sweetly, seemingly unaware of the internal chaos you’d stirred in him. “Good, because I made way too many,” you said with a wink, plating up a stack of pancakes and setting it on the counter. “Come on, grab a seat. They’re best when they’re hot.”

Spencer nodded, his movements slightly robotic as he took a seat, forcing himself to focus on the food and not how close you were as you set the plate in front of him. The morning air was warm, but the atmosphere between you two felt even warmer. As you sat down across from him, he couldn’t help but feel like something was shifting between you—something exciting, and possibly dangerous for his already fragile composure.

—

That afternoon, you and Spencer strolled through the charming town center of Lake Tahoe, taking in the relaxed vibe and the quaint shops lining the streets. The day had been filled with lighthearted fun—nothing too serious, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. You couldn’t help but smile as you pointed out little details of the town, laughing at Spencer’s commentary and feeling a sense of ease that came so naturally with him.

But then, as you browsed one of the boutique shops, a mischievous thought crossed your mind. You turned to Spencer, feigning an innocent realization. “Oh, I totally forgot to pack a swimsuit!”

He blinked, caught off guard by your sudden announcement. “You… you forgot to pack a swimsuit?”

You shrugged casually, glancing toward the back of the shop where the swimwear section was. “Yeah, I mean, I’m gonna need one if we want to hit the water, right?”

Spencer nodded slowly, looking a little confused but following along. You weren’t entirely sure, but you were starting to feel like maybe he saw you as more than just a friend. There had been glances, small moments—like when you caught him staring or how he’d shyly brush against you. And truth be told, you felt a spark with him too, something that made you want to push the boundaries just a little, to see how far they would stretch.

“Do you… uh, want my help choosing one?” Spencer asked, his voice a little shaky as he tried to keep his cool.

You smiled sweetly, barely able to contain your amusement. “Well, yeah, Spence,” you giggled. “I need a second opinion! I can’t buy something that makes me look bad, right?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before his brain could stop him, the words slipped out. “I don’t think you could look bad in anything.”

The second the sentence left his lips, Spencer’s face turned a shade of red you’d only seen once before when he’d been particularly flustered. His eyes widened in panic, as though he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.

You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sunshine outside. “Aw, Spence,” you teased gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “That’s sweet.”

Spencer looked away, clearly embarrassed, but you could see the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was adorable how easily he could be thrown off balance around you, and you secretly loved that you had that effect on him. 

“Okay, so I personally think I look good in red…” you mused aloud, casually flipping through the racks of swimsuits that, if Spencer had a weak heart, would definitely send him into cardiac arrest. You picked up a bold red bikini and glanced over at him with a raised brow. “But your favorite color is purple, right?”

“Huh?” Spencer was caught off guard, blinking rapidly as he processed your question. “Yeah, it is.” He was surprised, and admittedly touched, that you remembered something so seemingly small.

“Well then, let’s try this on!” you declared with a bright smile, grabbing a deep purple swimsuit off the rack in one hand and reaching for Spencer’s hand with the other. Before he could protest, you were dragging him toward the fitting rooms.

“Y/N, I can’t come back there with you,” he said, his voice rising in a panic as the realization of what was happening hit him.

You sent him a playful glare over your shoulder, the kind that made his heart race even faster. “You can and you will, unless you think I should walk out here and let the whole store see me?”

“Nope!” Spencer yelped immediately, his face turning an impressive shade of red. He hated that idea. The thought of other people seeing you in something as revealing as a swimsuit made his stomach churn, and the words left his mouth before he could think twice. “I’ll come back…”

The fitting room was more casual than expected—just one room with a curtain separating the changing area from a small sitting spot. Spencer sat down on a cushioned bench, his heart pounding in his chest as you slipped behind the curtain, out of sight.

For a moment, he could only stare at the fabric of the curtain, feeling like he was in some surreal daydream. The small sounds of you moving around behind the curtain sent his imagination spiraling in ways he really didn’t want it to go, but he couldn’t help it.

“How’s it going back there?” Spencer asked awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands as he tried to distract himself from the situation.

You giggled softly from behind the curtain, and he could hear the light rustling of fabric as you adjusted the swimsuit. “Almost ready. Just… a sec.”

Spencer swallowed hard, unsure if he was ready for whatever was coming next. His heart beat faster with every passing second, and he wasn’t sure whether to brace himself for a disaster or… something else entirely.

And then you stepped out from behind the curtain, more confident than Spencer could ever hope to be. The swimsuit you had chosen—a soft purple that hugged your curves and contrasted beautifully with your skin—made Spencer’s heart stop. For a moment, all he could do was stare, frozen in place, his mind short-circuiting at the sight of you standing there in all your stunning glory.

You did a small, playful spin, the movement so effortless and carefree, and Spencer choked on his spit at the sight of your ass as you turned. His face went from pale to a deep, crimson red in less than a second.

“Well…?” you asked, your voice playful, a little teasing as you caught his stunned expression. “What do you think?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was a strangled noise that sounded somewhere between awe and panic.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “Come on, Spence,” you pressed gently, stepping closer to him, “I need to know if it’s a keeper or not.”

He finally managed to stammer something that resembled coherence. “I-I think… it’s perfect.” He gulped. “You look… incredible.”

You grinned, pleased by his approval. “You sure? I mean, I don’t want to walk around looking bad.”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, no, not at all. You… you couldn’t look bad if you tried.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing air between you two shifted into something warmer, something real. Spencer was still blushing furiously, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something more than just admiration.

“Thanks, Spence,” you said quietly, the playful edge fading as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. It wasn’t just about the swimsuit anymore—it was about the way he looked at you, like you were the most beautiful thing in the room. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to make you feel it too.

The air between you shifted, the teasing moment turning into something heavier, more charged. You suddenly felt shy, your confidence wavering as you caught the intensity of Spencer’s gaze, still lingering on you.

“Um… Spence?” you asked, your voice softer now.

“Yeah?” he responded, his voice quiet, his eyes still fixed on you like he was in a haze.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you glanced at the mirror. “Can you, uh… help me adjust the straps? I can’t reach,” you said, the words tumbling out. It was a lie, and you both knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You wanted to feel his hands on you, to see if the tension in the air was something more than just a moment.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, but without a word, he stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, almost as if he was on autopilot. He walked toward you, his steps careful, the space between you closing with every second.

You turned to face the mirror inside the changing room, stepping just a little closer to the glass, forcing Spencer to enter the small space with you. The two of you were now standing so close, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You could feel the heat radiating off him as his fingers lightly brushed against your skin, adjusting the strap of the swimsuit with a tenderness that made your pulse quicken.

The moment stretched, neither of you speaking, both of you hyper-aware of the other’s presence. His hands lingered on your shoulders, and when you glanced at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the way his eyes had darkened, his gaze flicking between your face and the curve of your neck.

You swallowed, feeling the tension thick between you. “Spence…” you whispered, turning your head slightly to look up at him over your shoulder.

His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. The small space, the mirror, the soft rustling of clothes in the distance—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this intimate moment.

Without thinking, you turned fully, facing him now. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. His hands were still on your shoulders, his fingers trembling slightly. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips softly against his.

Spencer froze for a split second, his mind trying to catch up with what was happening, but then he melted into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. It was soft at first, shy, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But then, as you deepened the kiss, the shyness started to fade, replaced by something warmer, something real.

You pulled back slowly, not wanting to push things too far in such a public place, but you couldn’t resist the tender moment. Your thumb dragged lightly across Spencer’s bottom lip, his mouth curving into a soft smile under your touch.

“I hope that was okay,” you whispered, suddenly afraid to break the delicate bubble the two of you had created. The world outside seemed distant, as though it didn’t exist beyond this tiny, intimate space.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his voice still filled with a mix of awe and shyness. “Considering that was my first kiss, it was amazing.”

You blinked, looking at him in shock. “That was your first kiss? Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even ask if you—” But before you could finish your frantic apology, Spencer leaned down and kissed you again, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was slower this time, more confident. He wasn’t holding back, and neither were you. When he pulled back, his lips barely an inch from yours, he whispered against your skin, “I could not have asked for a better person.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making the moment feel even more special. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a turning point—something that was destined to happen, like you were meant to share this with him.

—

That night, everything felt light and easy between you and Spencer. The kitchen was filled with laughter and warmth as you both cooked dinner together. Every so often, you’d lean over to steal a playful kiss, the steam from the boiling noodles creating a cozy, almost magical atmosphere around you. Spencer’s awkwardness had melted away by then, replaced with a soft confidence that showed in the way he kissed you back, teasing you as he pretended to stir the sauce.

After dinner, you found yourselves sitting on the floor, playing a few rounds of Mancala, each of you laughing as you tried to out-strategize the other. But eventually, the pull of the hot tub outside became too tempting to resist.

You changed into your new swimsuit and waited outside, the night air cool against your skin but the anticipation of the hot water—and of Spencer—keeping you warm. When he finally stepped outside, you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.

There he was, standing in the doorway in blue banana-print swim trunks, his lanky frame looking more adorable than you could have imagined. You felt a rush of excitement at seeing him like this, so much of him exposed, his vulnerability on full display in the cutest way possible.

“Don’t laugh,” Spencer whined, clearly embarrassed, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Spence, they’re cute!” you reassured him, still grinning as you tried to hold back more laughter. You walked over and tugged lightly at the waistband of his trunks, giving him a playful smile. “I love them.”

He looked at you, his shyness melting away under your warmth, and after a moment, he finally smiled. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it,” you said, stepping closer, your hands resting on his chest. “They’re very you.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but his smile remained, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your hand and leading you toward the hot tub. The playful teasing was replaced by a quiet excitement, the warmth of the tub waiting for you both.

You and Spencer settled into the hot tub, the warmth of the water enveloping both of you as you leaned back, the night sky above dotted with stars. The steam curled around your bodies, making everything feel soft and dreamlike. You let out a contented sigh, closing your eyes for a moment.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, glancing over at Spencer, who was sitting stiffly on the opposite side, his hands gripping the edge of the tub.

“It’s… nice,” he replied, though his face was scrunched up in thought, like something was bothering him.

You raised an eyebrow at him, amused by his hesitance. “You okay, Spence?”

He hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “Do you know how many germs are in a hot tub?”

You burst out laughing, completely caught off guard. “What? No! Spencer, don’t ruin this for me!” you teased, splashing a little water in his direction.

“I’m serious!” he insisted, his voice rising slightly as he adjusted his glasses, which were already fogging up from the steam. “Hot tubs are like… breeding grounds for bacteria. The warm water creates the perfect environment for microorganisms to thrive, and if the pH or chlorine levels aren’t properly maintained, it can lead to a whole range of infections—skin, respiratory, you name it.”

You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Only you would bring up bacteria in a hot tub. Come on, relax for once!”

Spencer’s face was a mix of genuine concern and embarrassment as he continued, clearly unable to stop himself now that he’d gotten started. “No, really, the CDC recommends monitoring hot tub water regularly because—"

You cut him off by playfully splashing him again, this time a bit more, laughing as you watched him sputter, pushing his glasses up as they slid down his nose.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” you said between fits of giggles. “But you’re in here now, so unless you want to hop out and start running tests, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Spencer looked at you for a moment, as if considering the possibility of actually running tests, but then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice that made you smile.

“Look, the hot tub may be full of germs, but at least I’m not,” you teased, leaning a little closer to him. “So how about you just focus on me instead of all the invisible bacteria?”

He blinked, his eyes darting between yours and the water for a moment before he finally let out a breath and relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make a good argument,” he admitted.

“See?” you said, inching even closer to him, your shoulders almost touching. “Now, doesn’t this feel better than worrying about germs?”

Spencer chuckled, his arm sliding across the back of the tub as he allowed himself to relax a bit more. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “Much better.”

The playful conversation in the hot tub eventually faded into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft bubbling of the water. You noticed Spencer had gone quiet, and when you glanced over at him, you realized why. His eyes kept darting down to your chest, unable to hide his fascination.

You tried to hold back a giggle but couldn’t. “Spence… my eyes are up here,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

He immediately flushed red, looking away in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry! It’s just… I didn’t know that…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence without digging himself deeper into the hole of awkwardness he had created.

“Didn’t know what?” you asked, amused by how flustered he was becoming. “That they could float?”

Spencer hesitated before nodding, clearly mortified. “Well… yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I guess I didn’t think about it before, but, uh, it’s interesting. Scientifically, I mean.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, causing Spencer’s blush to deepen even further. “Oh, Spence, you’re adorable,” you said, still giggling. “They’re just balls of fat, you know?”

He blinked at you, his curiosity piqued now that you’d made it sound so simple. “I guess that makes sense,” he murmured, still staring despite his best efforts to focus on something else.

A playful, daring thought popped into your head then. You leaned in closer, biting your lip slightly before whispering, “You know… if you want, you can touch them.”

Spencer’s eyes went wide, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “W-What?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wasn’t sure whether he’d heard you correctly.

You smiled, your expression soft but teasing. “I’m serious,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with curiosity. “It’s okay if you want to. I mean… it’s not like I mind.”

For a moment, Spencer seemed frozen, his mind likely racing through a million thoughts all at once. You could see the internal battle on his face—his logical brain warring with his curiosity and the undeniable attraction between the two of you. Finally, he swallowed hard and nodded, still unsure but willing to trust you.

Slowly, almost cautiously, his hand reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered near your chest. When his hand finally made contact, his touch was soft and hesitant, like he was afraid to hurt you. His wide eyes stayed fixed on you the entire time, clearly amazed by the experience but also checking to make sure you were okay with it.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his voice barely audible, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your breast as if he were studying it in awe. You could see the genuine fascination on his face, his scientific curiosity mixing with something much more intimate.

You smiled softly at him, letting him take his time, feeling the weight of the moment between you two. This wasn’t just a playful interaction anymore—it had shifted into something more vulnerable, more personal. And in that moment, you both felt it.

"Spencer?" you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours, his hands still gently fondling your breasts as if he were afraid to break the delicate moment between you. "Yeah?" he responded, his voice just as soft, the world around you both feeling smaller, quieter.

"Kiss me," you breathed out, the words slipping from your lips like a secret you’d been holding in, waiting for just the right moment to share.

For a second, Spencer just stared at you, his mind seemingly struggling to catch up with what you had said. Then, slowly, as if in a trance, he leaned in, his breath warm against your lips. His hands, still resting on your chest, slid down to your waist, pulling you closer as he closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft, tender at first, like he was still testing the waters, but the heat between you was undeniable. His lips pressed against yours with more confidence as the moment deepened, his touch growing bolder. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the nervousness and excitement coursing through him, mirroring your own feelings.

You leaned into him, your arms sliding around his neck as the kiss deepened. The steam from the hot tub swirled around you both, but the warmth between you was far more intense than the water. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other.

"Spence…" you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of affection and awe. You could feel the shift between you two, the unspoken understanding that this moment had changed everything.

He smiled shyly, his hands still resting gently on your skin. "That… was amazing," he whispered back, his voice filled with wonder, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again, a silent promise of more to come.

That night, under the soft glow of the moon and the warmth of the water still clinging to your skin, you and Spencer shared something deeper than either of you had anticipated. What started as tender kisses turned into a night of exploration, vulnerability, and intimacy. You took each other’s virginity, not in a rushed or hurried way, but slowly, carefully, cherishing each touch, each whispered word of affection.

It wasn’t just physical; it felt like you were sharing more than just your bodies. You both made quiet promises, unspoken at first, then whispered into the darkness—promises of staying together, of not letting this be a fleeting summer memory. You could feel the weight of it, the significance of this moment between you two, and you knew Spencer felt it too.

By the time the night faded into dawn, you were no longer just friends. You had come to the lake house as two people testing the waters of something deeper, but you were leaving as partners, bound by the connection you had built together over these few days. It felt like the start of something real, something lasting. And in your heart, you knew it was.

—

A year later, everything had fallen into place in ways you couldn’t have imagined. You and Spencer were stronger than ever, navigating your lives together as you both pursued your dreams. Spencer was deep into his PhD program, doing incredible work that often left you in awe of just how brilliant he was. You, on the other hand, had officially taken ownership of the bookstore after Mr. Jannell, the original owner, retired, and though it was a huge responsibility, it felt like you were carving out a life you were proud of. At just 19, both of you were on paths that felt meaningful and fulfilling.

Spencer had taken you to meet his mom, Diana, and you two had bonded almost instantly. Diana adored you, and before long, the two of you were “thick as thieves,” as Spencer liked to put it—sometimes much to his own chagrin. He’d always joke about how he couldn’t keep up with the way you and his mother teamed up against him during conversations, but deep down, you knew how much it meant to him that you got along so well.

When it came time for you to introduce Spencer to your family, it was a bit more complex. Your mom and her girlfriend liked Spencer well enough, and while he was perfectly polite, the truth was, you didn’t care much about their approval. The meeting you were really excited for was the one with your dad. He lived in Oregon, and though you had once planned to move there to be closer to him, meeting Spencer had changed your plans.

The trip to Oregon was everything you had hoped it would be. Your dad and Spencer hit it off immediately, bonding over literature, fine arts, sports statistics, and even chess. You could see the relief on Spencer’s face when he realized that your dad was a kind-hearted, free spirit—someone who truly understood and appreciated you. It meant the world to Spencer to have a father figure he could trust, and your dad made sure to let him know that he was always welcome to reach out, even giving him his personal number.

It was during that trip that both you and Spencer felt the confirmation that you were absolutely perfect for each other. The shared dreams, the easy companionship, the way your lives fit together—it all seemed to point to something greater.

So, when Spencer finished his PhD program at the age of 20, it felt like the most natural next step when he proposed. The way he looked at you, the ring in his hand, and the soft words he spoke made your heart swell. You had come so far together, and now, the future stretched out before you, full of possibilities you were ready to explore as partners for life.

"Oh my god, Spencer, yes!" you screamed, your heart racing with excitement. "Of course I'll marry you!" 

And just like that, everything changed. You and Spencer were married, two best friends who had found each other in your small hometown and realized there was no one else in the world you’d rather spend your life with. It felt surreal at times—how lucky you were to have met and married someone who knew you better than anyone, someone who adored every part of you.

Spencer, for his part, was over the moon. He couldn’t believe that he’d found the perfect woman who not only supported him but loved him in ways he never thought possible. You were his best friend, his confidant, and now, his wife. It was a dream come true, and there wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t marvel at the life you were building together.

Diana was beyond thrilled for the two of you, offering nothing but love and encouragement. Your father had been equally supportive, loving Spencer like a son from the moment they met. As for your mom and her girlfriend, they had expressed concern about how young you both were, warning you about the challenges of getting married so early in life. But, as always, their warnings fell on deaf ears—you had never really taken their advice to heart, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

You and Spencer knew, deep down, that what you had was real and lasting. You had both seen the future stretched out before you, and it was full of promise—promises you were ready to make good on, together.

—

It wasn’t until two years into your marriage that the cracks started to show, subtle at first but growing more obvious as time passed. Spencer had been on the lookout for new work, eager to challenge himself in ways his current job couldn’t. So when the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI reached out to him, it felt like a sign—an opportunity to use his big, brilliant mind in ways that could really make a difference. You couldn’t have been more proud of him when he told you, beaming as he shared the news. Your heart swelled with pride.

But the excitement quickly turned into a complicated issue. You had worked so hard over the past few years, growing your business until you owned not just one but two popular storefronts. Both were thriving, and while you had employees, your presence was necessary almost daily to keep things running smoothly. There was always something that needed your attention, always a fire to put out. The idea of uprooting everything and moving to Virginia for Spencer’s new role felt impossible—laughable even.

The moment Spencer saw how you reacted, the light in his eyes dimmed. He didn’t argue, didn’t push the idea. Instead, he swallowed his feelings and forced a smile, telling you that it was okay, that he didn’t need to move, that his job at Caltech was enough. He could stay. How could he tell the love of his life that he did want more? That he wanted to move, grow, and do something that felt more important than the work he was doing here?

So, he stayed silent. He resolved to push the opportunity aside and stay in California, continuing his work in the engineering department. But you noticed. Over the next few months, Spencer changed. He wasn’t the same bright-eyed, enthusiastic man who used to come home excited to tell you about his day. Instead, he was coming home fatigued, emotionally drained, going to bed earlier than usual and struggling to get up in the mornings. There was a heaviness about him, a weariness that worried you more with each passing day.

You could see the signs, but you didn’t know what was causing them. Your heart ached with the thought that Spencer might be struggling with something deeper, something like depression. You didn’t know how to help him, and that uncertainty weighed on you both.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted softly as Spencer walked through the door. He dropped his bag and jacket in the hall closet before slumping onto the couch next to you, immediately curling into your side, his head finding its usual spot against your chest.

“Hi,” he mumbled, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, seeking comfort.

You instinctively began stroking his hair, knowing it always soothed him. “How was your day?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even though you could already sense that something was wrong.

“Boring,” he muttered. “Long.”

You hummed softly, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. “I was thinking,” you began hesitantly, “maybe this weekend we could go visit your mom?”

Spencer’s head lifted slightly, his eyes suddenly alert with concern. “Why? Is she okay?”

You quickly shook your head, reaching for his hands. “Yes, love, she’s fine,” you assured him. “It’s just… I can tell you’ve been feeling down recently, and I thought seeing your mom might help. Maybe it would lift your spirits.”

Spencer huffed a breath through his nose, his gaze shifting to the side as he pulled away slightly. “It won’t.”

Your concern deepened, and you searched his face, wondering what was really going on. “What do you mean?” you asked softly, your voice laced with worry.

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of whatever he had been holding back finally too much to bear. “I got fired today,” he admitted, his voice flat, like he was trying to keep the emotion out of it.

Your heart dropped. “What? Baby, why?” you asked, your tone frantic, already running through every possible reason in your mind.

“I told my boss about the offer from the FBI,” he explained, his hands fidgeting as he spoke. “They said if they fired me, then I could collect unemployment until I start my new job and I would get a severance package.”

Your heart stopped. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. “...Start your new job?” you repeated slowly, barely able to get the words out.

Spencer nodded, his gaze still averted. “I accepted the job in Virginia,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he were afraid to say it out loud.

“Without telling me? Or asking me?” Your voice trembled slightly as you tried to keep your emotions in check.

Spencer, exhausted and clearly fed up, scoffed, “I didn’t think I needed your permission.”

His tone carried a sharpness that stung, a sass that only came out when he was truly drained. It wasn’t like him to be dismissive, but this felt different. You took a breath, trying to steady yourself.

“No, you don’t,” you said flatly, your voice colder than you intended. “But I am your wife, and I’m pretty sure that decision is going to impact us both. I would have liked to have a say.”

Spencer let out a frustrated breath, his posture stiffening. “So you could say no again?” he snapped, his exhaustion now seeping into anger.

You stared at him, bewildered. “When did I ever say no?” you asked, your voice rising with disbelief.

“When I brought it up the first time, you laughed!” Spencer shot back, his voice louder now, frustration overtaking the sadness that had been weighing him down. “You didn’t take me seriously.”

Your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building. Fighting like this wasn’t something you were used to, especially with him. You hated this feeling of everything slipping through your fingers. “Baby, I didn’t know you were seriously considering it. You never brought it up again.”

“I didn’t want you to tell me we couldn’t make it work,” he said, his voice cracking with sadness now. The frustration in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a deep hurt that made your chest ache. 

You stared at him, the weight of his words settling in. This wasn’t just a fight about a job. It was about more—about unspoken fears, miscommunication, and the silent distance that had crept in between the two of you. You had both been living in your own worlds, not realizing how far apart you were drifting.

The silence between you was heavy, and for the first time, the possibility that maybe—just maybe—you were heading in different directions hung in the air.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t make it work,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your own sadness mixing with the confusion. “But you made the decision without me… and that’s what hurts.”

Spencer looked at you, his eyes softening, but there was something there—an understanding, maybe—that this was bigger than either of you had anticipated. He hadn’t thought you’d react like this. You hadn’t expected him to push forward without you.

And in that moment, the future you both had built together seemed fragile, hanging in the balance of a choice neither of you had prepared for.

“What are you saying?” Spencer asked carefully, his voice softening, though there was still a thread of hope lingering in his words. “We can make it work? You’ll move with me?”

You hesitated, the weight of his question sinking in. You had both avoided the depth of this conversation for so long, but now it was staring you in the face. “Spencer… I have my stores,” you began, trying to make him understand the complexity of the situation, the commitment you had to your work.

“Can’t you sell them? Or… run them from Virginia?” he suggested, his tone almost casual, as if the solution were that simple.

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “It’s not that easy, Spence,” you replied, your voice tight with frustration. “If something goes wrong, I need to be there. I need to be in person to fix it. It’s my business. I can’t just run it from across the country.”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just… my work is important too. Don’t you see that? I’m talking about saving lives, helping people in ways that can make a real difference.”

You felt the sting of his words, the implication behind them cutting deeper than you expected. “What are you saying, Spencer?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly, a mixture of disbelief and hurt. “That what I do doesn’t matter?”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“But that’s exactly what it sounds like,” you interrupted, your voice louder now, the hurt rising to the surface. “You think because I’m not saving lives, because I’m not doing what you’re doing, that it’s less important? These stores… they mean everything to me. Just because it’s not life or death doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

“I guess I thought I meant everything to you,” Spencer whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks, his voice trembling with heartbreak.

Your own tears began to fall, your chest tightening as you watched the love of your life in such pain. “I thought so too,” you replied, your voice cracking. “But… would you leave everything behind and move across the country for me?” It was a question that hung heavy between you, one that neither of you had ever truly confronted before.

Spencer stared at you, his eyes red and glassy. “What is this?” he asked, his voice shaky. “Are we… are we breaking up?”

Your heart shattered at the thought, and you sobbed softly. “I don’t… I don’t know, Spence. But if you’re moving, I don’t see how we can make this work.” The weight of that reality crushed you both, the finality of it sinking in.

“You won’t even think about coming with me?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with desperation. He wanted to believe there was a chance, a way to bridge the gap.

You shook your head slowly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Not right now, not when I’m just getting started. I can’t walk away from it.”

Spencer stood then, his movements sharp, final. “Well, I’m just getting started too,” he said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back his emotions. “Maybe… maybe we were too young.”

You looked up at him, crying harder now. “You don’t mean that,” you choked out, shaking your head. The idea that he could regret the life you’d built together was too much to bear.

But Spencer looked down at you, his face full of sadness and regret. “I think I do,” he said softly, the words hanging between you like a dark cloud. “What were we thinking? We didn’t know what we were going to do with our lives. We should have waited, or… or talked about the future more.”

His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of how far apart you had grown. The love was still there, strong and undeniable, but the reality of your different paths, your conflicting dreams, was threatening to tear you apart. And neither of you had any idea how to stop it.

—

At the airport, you walked Spencer as far as security would allow, neither of you ready to let go just yet. The reality of the moment weighed heavily on both of you, and as you pulled him into a tight hug, the tears flowed freely, unbidden.

“Spencer,” you whispered as you pulled back slightly, holding his face in your hands so you could look into his eyes. “I am so proud of you. You’re an amazing, wonderful, brilliant person, and you’re going to do great things. Please, don’t be a stranger.”

Spencer smiled through his tears, his expression soft but filled with pain. “Thank you, Y/N. That means so much coming from you. I know you’re going to do great things too. Keep me updated—I still want to be involved in your life.”

You nodded, your heart breaking as you tried to smile through the sadness. “I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I can handle.”

The two of you stood there, holding each other, neither wanting to let go. It felt like an eternity and no time at all before the final call for his flight came over the loudspeaker. Reluctantly, Spencer pulled away, wiping his eyes as he looked at you one last time.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

You stood there for a moment, watching him disappear through security, the reality of it all hitting you like a wave. Alone, 22 years old, divorced, and still in your hometown, the life you’d imagined for the two of you now felt like a distant dream.

To be continued…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[bbygirl-aemond]

I can't believe they had Alicent give Aegon up after everything she put him through. I hate it here

i know a lot of people are very angry about this and maybe it's just that i find anger to be an exhausting and unproductive emotion generally but i'm not really mad about it in the same way? i know rhaenyra says the "son for a son" line, which makes sense for how rhaenyra is viewing things, but i saw parallels with helaena's choice in how it wasn't really a choice. helaena and jaehaera are, at this point, the only ones alicent can save. and even then, accepting this is no easy task for alicent.

i'm not a huge fan of the "alicent only put aegon on the throne because viserys said so" thing, so let's set that aside and just focus on what has happened this season, since aegon's coronation, that could have brought alicent to this point.

first, aemond has gone off the rails and alicent strongly suspects that he is the one who burned aegon. this has majorly weakened the green's position; their most important player is not reliable and they've lost one of their four dragons. this has also created a sense of danger in the red keep, especially in light of aemond's burning of sharp point. aemond has demonstrated a pattern of hurting easy targets when he feels angry and alicent has reason to fear for aegon's life, but also for hers and helaena's and even jaehaera's.

second, remember that orwyle and larys are rehabilitating aegon in secret to avoid aemond coming after him to finish the job. we as the audience know that aegon has woken up, and is walking around again, and is making progress. alicent does not know this. for all she knows, he's barely woken up and will probably live but is not really making progress in his recovery. i'm not saying that alicent wants to mercy kill him, because she does first try to find a way to spare his life, but from her perspective aegon is still very much out of the picture when it comes to the war efforts.

lastly, rhaenyra has added three dragons to her cause. this is the most significant thing and is something i think most people who are upset aren't giving enough weight to. seasmoke and silverwing are both large adult dragons, and vermithor is a massive dragon who rivals vhagar. alicent is here to surrender to rhaenyra because at this point she very understandably does not see a possibility where she and her family win.

all of these things happened after alicent crowned aegon and are things she could not have anticipated. so alicent is looking ahead at two futures. both of them are futures in which her son does not sit the throne because rhaenyra has won. in the first future, the one that would come to pass if alicent does nothing, rhaenyra uses her dragon power to take the throne by force. thousands of soldiers and smallfolk die, and aemond probably kills aegon before rhaenyra can even get to him, and alicent's whole family dies, and rhaenyra gets her throne anyways. in the second future, the one alicent is trying to make a reality, rhaenyra is let into king's landing and assumes the throne. the soldiers and smallfolk are largely spared, and alicent is able to save the female members of her family.

alicent did not choose to throw aegon under the bus after years of forcing him to assume the throne. she put him on the throne, yes, but now she and her family are basically guaranteed to lose in her eyes after the events of this season, so she is trying to salvage what she can. and even still, even knowing that there is no true way to spare aegon, she wants to. the part where she tries to justify keeping aegon alive is the pure denial of a mother who does not want to accept that there is no way to get her son out of this alive. she is faced with the same false choice helaena was: save your daughter, or save no one. of course she makes the same choice. of course she saves the only one she can still save.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

(I'm sorry it took me so long, I realized I wanted to participate in Kinktober after my ask box filled up with requests, then life got crazy, I moved, started a new job, got a baby (cat)..) CW: Gang bang, GN!Reader, multiple penetration, licking, both male and female partners, abduction, monster fuckers, non-con, forced oral, non human genitalia, urination

It's been two months since (Reader) fell.

They wondered if anyone had noticed they were missing.

Had their boss called the police? Maybe the apartment manager when (Reader) failed to pay their rent?

It didn't matter.

No one would ever find them.

There was a trail leading through a large patch of woods behind (Reader's) hometown that they often enjoyed hiking, but a couple of months ago (Reader) had made the mistake of traveling too far off from the trail. The young adult quickly became lost in the thicket, getting turned around as the sun went down. Then, they fell.

The hole seemed to go on forever, and they would have died, or at least broken something important, if a pile of soft bedding hadn't cushioned their landing.

"My, my, my.. what little snack has fallen into my chamber?"

(Reader) struggled in the mass of leaves and furs, frightened and disoriented from their sudden descent into the earth. But before they could sink deeper into the remains of animals unfortunate enough to have fallen before them, (Reader) was hoisted into the air by a strong hand clenching a fistful of their sweater. A giant creature larger than a suped up truck held (Reader) at eye level.

"Oh? What a cute little snack." The feminine voice echoed through (Reader's) skull. Whatever it was that now had (Reader) captive looked like a human woman that had a bug grow to a horrific size within her; soft pieces of human like flesh stretched out over a hard exoskeleton, tearing in multiple spots.

An exposed, human like skull molding into mandibles was presented as her face, with insect eyes lodged within it's sockets.

Because of the unrealistic, dreamlike scenario (Reader) found themselves in, they responded numbly, "Please don't eat me." It wasn't confidence that kept their voice from quaking, but shock.

Their request seemed to amuse the monstrous woman. She chuckled loudly, both within (Reader's) mind in a beautiful laugh and from her metal-like chest. The sound that reverberated from her body sounded like a knife being drug across a pipe. Her strong hand shifted, moving from (Reader's) sweater, holding them up like a kitten by their scruff, to cradling (Reader) against her bare chest. The chest was flat and without breast tissue, but it still felt effeminate to (Reader). Perhaps it was because of the soft curves above her hips, or the slender shape of her nape, but it made (Reader) feel almost embarrassed, exposed, in the nude woman's embrace.

The parts that resembled human flesh were cold like a corpse, chilled from the hard insides. Her skin was a dulled earthy color, and the longer (Reader) was pressed against it, the more the reality of their situation sank into their mind, transforming the numbness into paralyzing fear. And the monster holding (Reader) gently to her bosom smelled the change in their sweat, further entertaining her.

"Do I frighten you, little one?" Her hypnotizing voice that telepathically sang into (Reader's) head spoke in unison with the actual voice of screeching, ear piercing scraping of sharp plates.

(Reader) went rigid. This wasn't a dream. This was real. Their limbs involuntarily shook. How should the respond? What could they say in this situation?

"No." They lied. They didn't know how they found the strength to speak, but the lie tumbled out before they could clamp their mouth tight.

Another laugh rocked (Reader's) weak heart within their rib cage.

"How sweet.." An abnormally long, mostly armored finger stroked (Reader's) face. "You lie to the Queen.."

(Reader) was laid down upon what they assumed to be the Queen's bed, a more organized stack of furs and leaves. The Queen stood above (Reader), giving them a better view of her body. She had two sets of arms attached to a slender abdomen, with no belly button, her gently rounded stomach ended in a strange split at her pelvis( what (Reader) guessed to be her genitals), and from her hips were very large, inhumanly shaped thighs, without any skin texture, attached to rough and bumpy legs bent backwards and elongated, ending in insect like feet.

"Shall I eat you, little one?"

(Reader) began to tear up, feeling their bladder about to betray them. Their thighs quivered under the pressure of their fear.

"Or.. shall I keep you?" The Queen's upper hands traveled up over her chest, caressing herself, as her lower pair made circles on her lower stomach, inching closer to her exposed slit.

A horrified noise escaped (Reader's) nose as they felt warmth leak out, soiling their pants. The adult began silently sobbing, heaving as they failed at holding in both their crying and their urine. Before them, the Queen seemed to become excited, her antenna twitching as the air filled with (Reader's) scent, one only she could detect. Animalistic and hungry, she fell onto her hands and what appeared to be knees, crawling over (Reader) and tearing off their bottoms with unnatural strength.

(Reader's) body was revealed against their will, and they could no longer hold back their terrified screams. Their hollering didn't phase the woman as she felt their piss stained underwear. Her skeleton like fingers ripped open their wet fabric, purring as she investigated the human body, a reproductive body unlike her own. And it aroused her.

"You are an adult.. I can smell it.." Her mandibles opened, revealing a human like bottom jaw, with sharp, carnivorous teeth, and a long tongue dripping with saliva.

(Reader) couldn't fight back; their struggling didn't budge the Queen as she lowered her mouth onto (Reader's) wet lower half. Her long muscle explored (Reader's) warmth, before finding their ass. The skin on (Reader's) fists scraped and bled as they weakly beat the Queen's head, begging her to stop as her tongue entered their clenched hole.

"Stop!" Their screams fell on deaf ears as the organ seemed to elongate, pressing up even further into (Reader's) colon painfully. It pulsated as she tasted (Reader), breathing in deeply as she did so, relishing in their scent.

Her exposed septum rubbed against (Reader's) most sensitive place, exciting their nerves against their wishes. They fought against it, but their body began to feel pleasure despite (Reader's) emotional anguish. And the Queen could taste it.

The change in (Reader's) smell spurred on the creature, speeding up her movements as she fucked (Reader) with her tongue faster, enjoying the leaking fluids mixing with (Reader's) pee. Their stomach muscles tightened as their climax built.

......................................

(Reader) cried out a pathetic "No!" as they came into the Queen's mouth, writhing under her as their muscles spasmed.

But the Queen wasn't done with them yet..

Two months later, and (Reader) was glued to the Queen's side. Her new favorite mate, she never let (Reader) further than an arm's distance away from her, regardless of what she was doing. (Reader) had to be present for some of the most disturbing activities they had ever seen, including the Queen laying eggs. The Queen often told (Reader) that they were (Reader's) children as well, frightening (Reader) as well as confusing them. It was impossible, (Reader) thought, but they never saw the Queen mating with other monsters.

And there were other monsters.

Males and females, all significantly smaller than the Queen, hitting about (Reader's) height, who would occasionally enter the Queen's chambers to retrieve the eggs or bring food for the Queen and (Reader). Each creature was just as disgusting as their queen, with flesh stretched uncomfortably across ant like bodies. But it wasn't their anatomy that disgusted (Reader) the most: it was the way they stared at them. Monsters unable to blink, they never turned away from (Reader's) face whenever they entered the room. (Reader) didn't know what they were thinking, and wasn't sure if they wanted to know.

But they couldn't take it any more.

The Queen hardly slept, not needing to sleep as often as (Reader) did, only sleeping once since (Reader) fell, but when she did, she was out. Out hard enough where she was practically dead to the world.

And it seemed as though it was time for her to sleep again.

(Reader) stood by the drowsy Queen, naked. Their clothes were destroyed after their arrival, and the creatures had no need for clothing, so nothing was available to replace their hoodie and pants. It was a discomfort that (Reader) never got over.

"I shall see you soon, little one.." The Queen clicked softly as she curled up into the bedding.

'I'd rather die.' (Reader) bitterly thought, scrunching up their nose to prevent themselves from snarling like a caged animal. Although they did their best to keep their hatred off of their face, the Queen chuckled, seemingly taking joy in (Reader's) rage.

'You won't be laughing for long..'

They waited for what they hoped was an hour after the Queen passed out, trying to count the seconds down without the aide of a clock or ability to see the sky. Then, they took their chance.

On all fours, muscles sore from lack of use, body weak from nearly constant abuse, (Reader) crawled as silently as they could out of the den, unaware of the bemused twitch of the Queen's antenna.

They were silent, breathing such shallow breaths that (Reader) felt light headed.

But what they didn't account for was the stench.

(Reader's) tender sex and ass smelled of their's and the Queen's intimacy, even though (Reader) couldn't smell it, the rest of the hive certainly did.

As they snuck through the halls, the hive were alerted immediately of (Reader's) departure by the telepathic Queen, and were on the hunt for (Reader), following their smell.

It only took one to see (Reader's) cute little behind as they pathetically tried to crawl past for every member of the hive to know where (Reader) was, and for every worker not actively caring for younger members to immediately beeline for (Reader's) location.

And it didn't take long, for (Reader) to become hopelessly lost.

Panic began to fill their lungs and suffocate the poor captive.

"It is you!" A raspy voice exclaimed behind (Reader), startling a yelp out of the human. A male stood behind (Reader) with his hands clawing at his chest as if to steady his heart.

Fright rocked (Reader) to the core. "Please don't kill me.." They muttered nervously, already spun around on their knees to beg for their life.

The worker didn't seem to be listening, his antenna rapidly flicking about as he rambled under his breath.

"So sweet.. so cute.. so soft.. our mate.."

From his pelvis an endophallus emerged, pointed at (Reader's) face. The realization of (Reader's) fate caused a surge of adrenaline, propelling them in the opposite direction, running as fast as they could move their legs.

As they ran they heard voices down every corridor they passed, chanting words of love and attraction for their "mate". There seemed to be no escape; each hall (Reader) nearly turned down had voices calling out for them. They continued trying to run where there were no sounds, but eventually found themselves in a giant room of furs and leaves:

(Reader) had stumbled upon the sleeping chambers of the adult workers.

Tears filled their eyes as the room began to fill from multiple entrances with workers excitedly crying out for (Reader).

"It is!-"

"Our mate!-"

"Finally!-"

They wasted no time pulling (Reader) to the ground, ready to prove their love for their Queen's favorite mate.

As (Reader) opened their mouth to scream a long tongue entered and thrust itself deep into their throat. Choking and gagging, they were too busy trying to push the creature kissing them away to cover up their lower half. Like a dog pile, (Reader) was swarmed from all sides.

The workers fought one another just for the chance to touch (Reader). The second a crevice on their body was violated by a sharp inhuman dick, rubbing wherever they could reach, the creature would be thrown off, replacing the cock for a tongue or a hand. Sharp fingers massaged (Reader's) swollen body as every every hole was filled and every fold caressed. The long tongue was exchanged for a monstrous dick, but even that cold metallic-like phallus suffocating (Reader) was replaced by a female's vaginal slit as soon as the male filled (Reader's) stomach with a sticky liquid.

There was so much being touched at once that (Reader) couldn't focus on all the ways they were being assaulted.

If their ass was getting rammed by a cock, and their mouth was occupied by something else, with no holes available the creatures found other ways to fuck (Reader); folding their arms and knees and masturbating into the folds of their soft flesh; using (Reader's) hands like dildos and forcing (Reader) to enter their bodies; licking the sweat off of whatever body part they could reach while touching themselves impatiently.. Even the shallow button of their naval was molested by prodding tongues and fingers.

(Reader) was painted over and over again by fluids. All the while, the monsters would sing praises for (Reader) between their panting, grunts and moans. There seemed to be no end, with dozens of men pumping warm slime into (Reader's) stomach and ass while women rode out their orgasms on (Reader's) body.

Everything went black at one point, passing out due to a combination of a lack of air and exhaustion.

But when (Reader) woke up, they found that their body was still being used as a cum dump for another wave of workers. Their body was past the point of over stimulation, incapable of pleasure. It was pulsating electricity rolling across their abdominal muscles, contracting without (Reader's) permission.

They didn't know how long they were passed around for, but it was impossible to keep track of the number of monsters taking turns using (Reader's) body. Blood was dripping out of every orifice asking with cum and arousal fluid, the sharpness of their big like cocks and the hardness of the women's pelvises tearing (Reader's) body both inside and out.

The last thought (Reader) had before going completely dumb, was wishing that they hadn't left the Queen's side..

(A/N again, I'm so sorry it took so long! And that my drafts wouldn't let me edit your story anymore 😭 I hope you see this, Ant Anon!)

[hoseoksluna]

SMOKE, v. | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x smoke!oc (ft. jungkook & taehyung)

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 8.2k

summary: everything that hurt has stopped.  

pinterest board: smoke / playlist: moon kitty's playlist / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: yoongi is perfect, mutual masturbation, lots of lustful thoughts of sex and oral, yoongi's pov—literally the biggest warning, sex toys, desperation, praise kink, neediness, mentions of punishment & an actual punishment, too.

note: this might be the best chapter in the series and unfortunately, it's the last chapter i post before my hiatus. thanks to my bestest friend in the world, @tkslovechild, this series is finally moving forward somewhere and it's not a source of my depression anymore. i hope you all enjoy this chapter, my babies. see you after my hiatus. i will miss you all, terribly. luna loves you forever.

side note: make sure to listen to oc's playlist. it's so good.

The lights must be blaring, in the bizarre simplicity of our current happenstance, and the toys for adults must be tinged with a variety of colors, but my eyes are moored on the prismatic delicacy of her utter engrossment. 

Pupils wide and swallowing each detail of the display of the instruments of pleasure, my cock is so tight in my pants that I struggle for air, my fists clenched by my sides, ever so ready to snatch the product she points at just so I could become the means to make that joy explode further in her. She teased me in the car with her naughty songs, with her coy glances at me to suss out whether I caught onto the meaning—when in reality I tried my fucking hardest not to give in to my imagination and crash my car. Her body was curled so divinely, facing me, and my hands gripped the steering wheel until the leather squeaked. We laughed about it, she blamed me for farting, and I longed to kiss her until she would shut up. 

And I should have—because now she’s teasing me with her utmost fascination with a certain clit sucker. 

Whatever color it is. 

It was her idea to head inside this store. We drove around through the moonlit streets of Seoul for an hour, listening to her playlist reverberating throughout the vehicle. With the windows pulled down, the miscellaneous paraphernalia of her soul—the erotism of persona, the melancholia of her heart and the despondency caused from her pain—rumbling out of them, letting everyone see and hear the echo of her newly bloomed enthusiasm and the sprightliness of her being. She was alive at night, alive with me, liking the principle of me learning about her through this artful form. And I liked her liking that. 

The songs spoke what our mouths couldn’t, communicating for us, because we acted as though my own pain didn’t break us apart. In the vivacity of the car drive, in the lapis lazuli of our own exclusive, atmospheric globe, I didn’t tell her off for being bare for me the previous morning. No, I took off her night dress and drank from the sweet nectar of her bosom, right there on the ivory of her plush couch until she drenched it so well that she blushed. 

In fact, it’s the only thing I voiced out in terms of the conflict. 

Perhaps it was due to the influence of her songs, laced with the heady aroma of her energy—fuck, if I know, but I didn’t regret my words. 

Not this time. 

And her glimmering cheeks flushed like they did in my imagination, tightening my cock in the easy way that she was only capable of doing. I seized the tension between us—and I might as well clasped my hand over her thighs, which were still turned to me, with how her breath hitched in her throat in reaction to my brazenness. 

It was the reason why she wrapped her fingers around my wrist when we walked by that sex shop en route to the restaurant I chose, stopping me dead in my tracks. She held our sexuality close to her chest, not adding to it in the car, but unraveling it there, in the middle of the street, with strangers passing by. Gave me a look only a moon kitty like her could, mischievous yet innocent, and tilted her head in the direction of the store. And I knew, deep in my heart, that it was the little creature inside her that dragged me in—no longer neglected, but attuned to my attention, to my care and the respect I wafted towards her. 

There were no two sides to her, and on no account did we stand on the opposite sides of the chessboard with our agonies, despite the fact all I could see was the monochrome of its pattern once I regarded her enthrallment. 

Somehow, we are unified at this very moment,  and I crave to buy her that clit sucker. 

“Choose a color,” I rasp, and my cock agrees with me, twitching at the idea of her picking a color of her liking, one that can match her nails or perhaps the dark wine of her hair. One that bewitched me so profusely once I observed it under that soft white light of the interior of my car, its sleekness dipping into my heart that began to thunder for her. One that absolutely pales in comparison as I look at it now, the red dull and bleak, my sight unfolding in colors. My craving expands when her eyes widen at my seemingly brainsick idea, digging into mine while her tightened lips quiver in a smile. I smirk, enjoying her coy reaction, and I take this teasing into another dimension, austerely because I want to—and because I can, because we can. “Maybe the red one to match your hair.” 

Her gasp melts into a delicate laughter that tickles my insides and, mindlessly, she runs her elongated fingers through the ends of her hair at her tummy. Taps her long, cross-embellished nail, on another package beside it. “This one has the thingy that vibrates inside you.” 

It’s the same rose toy, but with a silicone attachment with a bulbous end. I’m not sure how those violent vibrations inside her walls can feel pleasurable for her, but the way she gazes at it—with a smirk akin to mine and lowered long lashes that languidly beat against the tops of her cheeks—propels me to seek my answer. 

I take it in my hands, inspecting it further. And I notice that the petals hide a small tongue in their center, simulating an oral sex for her lonesome times. 

Heat clings to my skin as I grow feverish. I am leaving for a tour in a few weeks. Who will be there to eat her sweet little pussy? 

The apples of her cheeks blaze in pinkness, regarding me as she is, and I lick my lips. “This one licks your clit. Do you think it’ll do a better job than me?” 

The rose tint deepens at my teasing words and all I can think about is how she’s gonna press those petals deeper and deeper into her folds, digging her long nails into the silicon surface just like she dug her nails into my scalp. And suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. 

I fast forward. 

“Do you want this thing or the bullet?” I ask her, impatient, but for what—I don’t know. What I do know is that I can’t stay in this place any longer with my imagination bursting forth and clouding everything negative I ever felt towards this girl. And while the newness crests joy and contentment in me, I need to be distracted from the lust that has become so natural between us. Or else, I bend her over in this aisle, rip the package open and use it on her while I fuck her dumb. 

I might become unhinged. Just for her, just for the flush blanketing her features. Just so I have her positive feelings in my hands. 

She’s too overwhelmed to respond, redder than her hair and it’s endearing. Kitty cups her face and turns around, letting me see her back, and I do the thing I unknowingly wanted to do the moment I inched closer to her. 

I brush my hand down her noble spine, clothed in the sheer fabric of her tight top that exposes her camisole underneath to me. I hook my fingers on the belt loop of her baggy jeans and bring her back to me. Her gasp is so tender and so unlike her when she collides into me, her fists bunched on the top of my chest, her hair a mess—tangled on her forehead and eyelashes and I’m awestruck. 

By her beauty, by the way there’s no end to her. And I want to keep acknowledging myself with the inexhaustible wholeness of her until I’m gray and stooped in the old age of my affection for her. 

No gold, no golden power staining my hands. She’s silver and I am desperate for that moonlit glory to mist my veins. Privately, for me and her. A thing only we know of. 

No Sun-mi, no Jungkook. 

Pinching the strands of hair away from her face, she seems to be swimming in a thought I’m very curious about. Even more so, when she engages her hands and hangs them over my neck. Calmness relaxes the muscles of my stomach and I take a detailed note of that. 

No anxiousness, no winged demons beneath. 

This is right. This is how it should’ve been from the start. Playfulness, a little bit of lust, and a whole lot of exuberance. Nothing else, at least not this early on. 

And even though I asked her a million naughty questions that I’d love for her to sophistically answer for me, something whispers in my gut that I should share my thoughts with her. And without a hint of fear, I do. 

“This is good, isn’t it?” I murmur, tipping my chin, my body leading me to lean my forehead against hers and I do—I do, I do. Kitty sighs, oddly validating me, and I continue. “I mean I wasn’t planning on buying you a fucking clit sucker tonight, but I’m glad we’re here.” 

She laughs and I lift my head, needing to see her expression of delight. And atypically, my mouth rounds in the same grin and the same laughter spills out of me. 

One that breaks into an indecent groan when she finally graces me with her response. 

“You know, they have rose toys for men as well. So if I’m getting one, you’re buying one, too.” 

It’s like she palmed me over my jeans with her words, but I disagree with a fraction of it. 

“Wrong. I’m getting you one.” 

She appears to be stunned by my willfulness to not let her spend a dime when she’s with me, her mouth parted and her head cocking back just once. And when she closes her pretty, half-glossy mouth, curls the pillows under her teeth and drops her eyes, her palms sliding down my chest, she accepts it. 

And I feel like a man, not a skeleton of who I used to be. 

“You’ll be getting two, then.” 

I chuckle. Draw near to her ear, sinking under the waterfall of her hair, and I hear her breathing harden. “I can get three if you can’t decide,” I flirt, pulling back more to edge her than to stuff my hand with the other toy that includes the bullet, holding it up for her. Her pools sparkle as she looks at them before perching up at mine, melting.

I bite my lip, feral; and I don’t wait for her to answer once I stack them up in one hand, pivoting on my feet. 

“Wait.” 

She steals the box with the bullet and puts it back to its original place. Replaces it with a male version of it, her smile cheerful and full of mischief. I take something else that I cover from her sight, which glides upon the display of all kinds of different cock rings and whatnot. 

Little does she know what I intend to surprise her with as soon as she allows me back into her girlish lust. 

My heart hammers in my chest in tandem with my cock as I pay for it. And I hope that she gets the memo. 

That she’s not just a fling—and certainly not just a friend. 

“Do you think your toy will pass through security?” 

Had I not swallowed my noodles, I would’ve spat them out at her black little outfit. Kitty giggles at my reaction—at the frozen tension in my face as I gaze up at her from my bowl, the soup dripping from my chin. Our movements are simultaneous—hands letting go of our chopstick, but while mine reach for a napkin, hers rummage in the white plastic bag I set down on the empty chair beside me. 

The table is too narrow, and it’s a blessing and a curse. 

Her vanilla perfume hits my nostrils and I’m convinced it’s what the moon must smell like. The box of the male toy is overly big for her hands and her hair shields her from me as she discreetly reads the description and the instructions. I widen my legs under the table, my bloodstream focusing on only one body part of mine, and I wonder if that’s what she was truly thinking of while she ate her own bowl of noodles. 

Fucking myself with a rose fleshlight. Away from her; across the sea. 

Jungkook must’ve told her about our tour. I wasn’t going to mention it tonight because I didn’t want to ruin the night with the sombreness of my work. As much as I looked forward to seeing our Army from that side of the globe, I wasn’t happy with the decision installed upon us—wasn’t happy that our management didn’t ask us about our feelings, whether we’re ready for it or not. It was more of a—you have a job now, do it well, cameras will be rolling—and that was the end of it. Namjoon sensed my dissatisfaction, slouching in his chair in front of me, with his jaw propped between his fingers and his eyes piercing through me but he, too, couldn’t say a thing. 

None of us could. 

It cast me to a deeper sea of my anguish that I didn’t want to stream into my ordinary life with Kitty. I was going to tell her as soon as my fresh emotions would’ve settled and we would’ve settled to the same extent, though having the toy be in the center of it changes everything now. 

It’ll be different. 

I won’t be a puppet, channeling my humanness through my love for our beloved Army. On the contrary, I will be a dancing fool, knowing I have someone waiting for me back in Seoul while being the epitome of my deepest longings and sentiments overseas. My heart, the toy and the means of our communication. 

I wasn’t going to bring the toy with me because if the members were ever to find out, I wouldn’t live it down. But if it makes that sparkle in her irises last a little longer, I shall put extra care into hiding it at the bottom of my suitcase. 

“You want me to take it?” I ask, softly, leaning back in my chair, one hand on the table, the other across my thigh. Her smile curves as she glimpses up at me, and I still can’t believe she pulled out an actual sex toy in a restaurant filled with hungry drunken people. If anyone recognizes me, I’m fucked. Majestically, devastatingly fucked if they take a picture, the said picture gets to our management and I have to write an apology letter on Weverse afterward. 

I’m sorry for having a personal life with a beautiful girl who’s unlike any shallow pretty faces I’ve come across. I will be more mindful of my actions in the future.

Fuck that. 

She can take it out of the packaging and see if it needs to be charged before we can use it if she so much as wishes so. 

We.

Yes, that’s right.

I’m not the same person I was yesterday, and something tells me that I have her to thank for that. 

“Well, I’m sure the Christmas spirit will get to you and you’ll be lonely. Also, let’s not forget it’ll be cuffing season most of all.” 

It’s funny she says that, considering what I secretly bought for her. Hysterical, in fact. Hilarious. 

It’s hidden in the pocket of my jacket, so even though she followed her curiosity into the bag, she still doesn’t know about the surprise that awaits her. I took it out when I let her walk in front of me, discreetly. It brought me more joy than I thought I was ever capable of bearing. 

Still, I wonder how much more of it I can be filled with. And I want to tempt it—brim with it. I reckon she’s the safest person to take that risk with, but the quiet, unknown voice in me adds that it’s not a risk at all. 

Quite the opposite. 

And the idea of cuffing her, both literally and figuratively, draws me closer to that cliff of brisk water of that ultimate joy and I want to get soaked. I want to drink. 

I want to be cleansed by it. 

“Would you like to be cuffed by me, little one?” 

It was automatic, the pet name streaming out of my mouth like that mini waterfall I seem to be dazed by. The question, too. And I’m not afraid, not even a hint of dread crawls upon me, and I find myself hoping that it stays. That everything I do and say from now on is of that automatic matter, unabashed, not blocked, not held back. 

I hope to be a real person with her. Without any ghosts, any demons. Any pain to scar her with. 

The little one doesn’t smile this time, shrinks in her flummox, but still I don’t fear, I don’t wish to grasp my words and put them back in my throat. Taking little steps means grazing your knees and I’m here to place band aids on her bleeding spots. 

I’m here for her. 

And my belief is supported by my actions this whole evening. 

The person I was yesterday is almost unrecognizable to me and I pray, I pray and I will pray once this night is over that it shall remain so. 

“I’m not sure what kind of question you’re asking me right now,” she murmurs, leaning her elbows on the table, drawing close to me like I’m drawing close to her, and it’s good enough. I don’t ask for anything else from her. 

“It’s the one you think it is,” I rasp, making her eyes widen slightly, and I have to chuckle. She’s so damn adorable, standing outside of her comfort zone, and my own eye is watchful over her, over her little steps, band aids ready in my hands. 

At the sound of my soft laughter, she drops her gaze, running her tongue over the inside flesh of her cheek—and there it is. That kind heat rushing through her. I want her to be smoldered by it. 

I want a lot of things when it comes to her, a phenomenon that forces me ponder if there ever will be an end to it. It’s better than feeling dissatisfaction regarding someone, digging a hand deep in them, expecting gold, yet plucking out stones that only cut your skin eventually. The more you dig, the bigger the wound. But I don’t have to do that in her. The little one, the moon kitty herself, gives it over, willingly. All of her silver moon dust, glory, and the ashes from her firelight. 

Maybe that’s how it should be. 

Not expecting, not reaching, but being given, being provided. 

Her eyelids lift and descend over the package in her hands before they root upon mine. And her response to my words keeps me company all the way to America. 

“Show me how well you can use this and I just might be.” 

Dead or alive, I blur between the lines. Jet lagged or just sick with love, it is a conjoined affair in me like the two halves of my heart. 

I miss her, even though I haven’t been able to unattach myself from my phone, the only tangible connection between us—the back and forth exchange of words, emojis and stickers that I had never used in my life but began to spam our conversations with once she coyly hid behind them. I miss her, even though I spent nearly every day with her until I boarded my flight. 

In Jungkook’s hotel room, the members share a meal together while I stay back, settled comfortably on the beige couch by the floor-length windows as the morning sun shimmers its rays across the walls. I’m sporting a hard-on, which I camouflage with a rough-textured pillow across my lap, due to the contents of our text messages. Hobi is slurping his ramen next to me, elbows propped on his elbows, posture slouched, oblivious to the fact that the girl of his platonic dreams is horny and challenging me to join her in her evening self-care. 

Yes, Hobi has developed a crush on the moon kitty and I was the first one to know. 

During the last of our leisure time in November before the tour, Hobi called me up and asked me to join him on his last drinking adventure before our work duties swallowed us. He lured me into his apartment with the two bottles of Hennessy that he had bought for the occasion and we talked work, we talked our management and we talked girls. 

He admitted to me how guilty he felt for triggering such unpleasant memories in Kitty’s mind after I shared with him the reason why I picked her up into my arms and walked away from him. I was purposefully vague in my speech, not wanting to disclose such privacy without her present, without her knowing especially, and Hobi respected that. Told me he thought about her since that day, remembering only the negative, tethered wisps that seemed to curl tightly in his gut. And I, drunk out of my mind, doting and devoted, shared with him that I wanted her. 

Made sure to emphasize in my admission that she was mine. 

It was the bravest thing I ever had done. 

Hobi understood, explained to me that how he regarded her was strictly friendly. Thought that she carried a certain elegance of beauty that was unprecedented in today’s culture, however, with which I enthusiastically agreed. Then he clutched my shoulder, the wounded one, with extra tenderness, looked me carefully in the eye, and gave me a groundbreaking word of advice that shook through my world. 

Don’t treat her like you treated Sun-mi. 

I didn’t grasp the meaning until we opened the second bottle and Hobi, seeing my puzzlement, fleshed out his wisdom. 

Don’t cling, don’t make her the air you breathe. Just live your life by her side and breathe your own air. You worked too hard to get here to backtrack. 

And I tried, within the little time we had together. 

We didn’t fuck, we didn’t devour each other’s bodies. We conversed, I learned her favorite color, the name of her favorite band, the dishes she liked—and the common ins and outs of her life. White wasn’t the only color of her soul, she liked red; that deep, dark tint one would only witness alive in the depth of the night. She liked the color of the stop lights, of the tail lights; she liked the way it bathed my face in gentle, undangerous fire whenever we would get stuck in traffic on our car drives—and apparently she liked my patience. 

Chase Atlantic was her favorite band. 

Tteokbokki her favorite dish. 

And I was her favorite person. A fact I already knew by the way she would kiss me at those favorite stop lights of hers. 

That was all we did. Kiss and converse. And I didn’t cling to her, didn’t make her the air I breathed. On the contrary, following Hobi’s wisdom, I fell for her in the purest of ways, which I somehow made possible in this befouled world. 

And, perhaps, she did, too. A deduction of mine because she began to smoke in front of me at some point. 

She was afraid I wouldn’t like it, a sensitive wound that she let me in on—a formless, unclear one that kept me wide awake at night, scrambling my brain to try and figure out what the fucker before me did to her. That was, until she told me, upon our last car drive during that last week we’d have with each other, that the said wound was caused by my own fault. 

I told her off for being bare for me at the beginning of the trajectory of our closeness and I sowed a poisonous plant of a hang-up in her. A block in her brain that pressured her to hide the “questionable” parts of her from me. 

But there weren’t any questionable parts of her—and I told her, after I pulled out my own pack, lit up one, grabbed her by the back of her neck and kissed her until her lungs were depleted of air. 

It was the bloom of our lust, particularly the vocal, intense apology I strung into her lips, kissing them deeper and deeper until they swelled. It was the beginning of our naughty text messages—right on the cusp of my absence, hooking onto my yearning and expanding it to heavenly dimensions. 

Yes, heavenly. Our closeness represented heaven as we had forgotten about our toys and remembered them during our hypersexual conversations. Face to face, we focused on the stimulation of our connected intellect, our intertwined characters; phone to phone, our bodies sought compensation.

And right now, upon the first morning here in the US, the moon kitty is persuading me into unpacking my suitcase and using the rose toy in my room. 

She’s straining, working so hard, sending me her little stickers of adorable, pleading animals, incognizant to the fact that I don’t need to be that much impelled to do it. She’s staying up for me, needy in bed—I made my decision the second she mentioned it. 

I merely delight in her saying please. 

I get off on it; it makes my cock rock hard and the concept of the members being around and unaware of what she’s doing to me—especially Jungkook, who’s stimming and happy to be eating after a restless night—heightens my pleasure, lengthening towards the heavens. 

If only I could take her there. With my tongue. Like I did the first time, holding her body down so she wouldn’t rise higher without me. 

pleaseeeeee, i’m gonna start without you if you dont get up rn 

I smile at the text message and I imagine her writhing in her bed, her bedsheets crumpled and tousled around her, her fingers tracing the curved petals of her rose toy—itching, impatient, needy; waiting for me. 

My cock grows. And I, too, meet my impatience. 

Just a second. Be good, I respond back to her, locking my phone and immersing myself in reality. 

The boys are uncharacteristically quiet, each one indulging in an activity of their own. Jungkook is huffing, his cheeks full and around, staring down his plate of food as if it was about to grow its own legs and walk away from him. Jimin is watching him with an endeared smile that is split by a secrecy all of us are aware of. Lopsided, its glow is shunned out by the tender, doleful layer of wetness in his eyes. And I know that his tummy will get full by watching him eat and that it will be his only source of fulfilling food for today. 

I clench my fists. 

Hobi beside me has finished his own breakfast and has entered his food coma, staring into nothing at the ceiling as he rests his neck against the backrest of the couch. Taehyung is looking at me in a way that brings my eyes back to him for a double take. With a smirk and a glint in the gentleness of his eyes, he flicks his browns at his own phone and nods his head, telling me something in the silent language that I don’t want him to. 

He noticed something he shouldn’t have. 

The words are flung out of me long before I comprehend what I’m saying, up and ready on my feet, covering my erection with the thick hem of my oversized shirt. 

“I’m gonna head to mine for a bit and take a shower,” I announce, making heads lift in my direction, and considering my situation, I cower in shyness, keeping my back to them as I walk towards the front door. 

“The stylist is coming at one pm and we have a soundcheck at three thirty,” Namjoon informs, and I pivot to look at him, at all six of them while my hand remains on the doorknob. 

Jungkook is rubbing his eyes and I take one last look at his faded mint hair, saying goodbye to it in my heart. I know what hair color I’m changing my silver hair to, thought of it on the plane and was immediately convinced it was my greatest idea. I nod, sweeping my eyes over the last five heads as if I was going to come back to them as a different person. 

Perhaps I was. 

I ignore Taehyung and his knowing smile as I leave, racking my brain, trying to come up with the reason why he’s acting like this. Did Hobi say something or was I not careful enough, divulging my secret out in the open with my face or my body language? Was the pillow over my lap and my eyes, all of my attention glued to my phone making it that obvious that I’m seeing someone? 

How would they react if they knew it was the Kitty girl? 

I leave it be for now, my cock asking for attention. I fish out my hotel key card and close everything behind me. Taehyung’s all seeing eye, Jimin’s diet and I stoop in my homesickness. 

It’s been two days and I feel as though Kitty ripped my heart out of my chest and folded it somewhere inside her purse when we hugged for the last time. I reminisce on her innocent touch on my neck, the only place she ever touched me besides my hair, on her lips that pressed against that place her hands warmed as I video call her. 

She picks up, immediately. 

I can only see her round head, the red of her hair sprawled messily on the silky, light beige cover of her pillow while the rest of her body is shrouded by that material. She smiles at me, no hint of embellishment lining her face—and something tells me that she’s all bare underneath her bed sheets, too. 

I palm my cock, desperate. 

“How long were you gonna keep me waiting?” she asks, and proves me right as she raises a hand and props it behind her head, the duvet drifting down a little and exposing the beginning of her fleshy peak and my mouth waters. I licked and kissed that breast of hers once upon a time and I would do anything to have that opportunity right now. I would do a better job; I would drive her insane. Spoil her with kisses so harsh that she would reach a point in heaven that no one ever has. 

I think about her question and deem I could never keep her waiting long if I were all by myself. “You know who I was with. Was I supposed to pull out my dick in front of them?” 

She giggles at my bizarre response, shifting her head to find a more comfortable spot, and the wholeness of her breasts greets me.

Bless all silky beddings. The superior invention of all. 

“Oh, hello there,” I joke, deepening her giggles and she angles her phone so I don’t see anything, breaking me apart. 

I shall punish her for it. 

I set my phone down against the table by the wall and take my shirt off. My angle allows her to see the state of me that she created with her lust—by telling me that she was up and desperate for me, craving the toy that I bought for her and that she wouldn’t use it unless I did with her at the same time. I didn’t need any details, any obscenities that I know full well she’s capable of giving me. Just her admitting to me that she needed me, trusting me enough with that intimate information made me so hard that I couldn’t contain myself. 

I watch her eyes glide down my body that isn’t good enough to be regarded like she does, stopping at the weakness she’s effectuated in my groin. And I let her, the first person who ever looked at me with such raw, undomesticated hunger. 

And I wish she would eat me up. Get on a plane, get to this hotel, to my room and take her time taking out my bones. I am for her taking—and I have been since the first time our eyes linked. 

“You’re not really helping me right now,” she croaks out, her raspy voice enveloping around my aching cock and I can say the same. Especially when she shifts entirely, rolls over to her tummy and I can see her natural face better, the carmine of her hair that veils and tickles her cleavage, enough that she flicks it behind her shoulder, letting me be the witness to her bare skin. 

Now she’s punishing me. 

“Was I supposed to help you? I thought we’re helping ourselves,” I tease, and my words pull her mouth apart, even more so when I begin to take off my belt, making sure I tug it out of my belt loops swiftly. She bites her lip, ruining me, and I want to use that leather on her. I fold it in half and point it at her. “This is what you’re getting once I see you.” 

She licks the skin she bit onto, her eyes widening, and I quiver—I quiver because she likes the idea. 

“What for?” she asks, raising her voice a little bit, and I chuckle. 

“For being so goddamn beautiful.” 

Kitty blushes and curls her lips under her teeth like I’ve noticed she so often does. I like it so much, so fucking much that I yearn for her to do it when she takes my cock into her throat for the first time. 

I know she will do a good job, swallowing every inch. 

“Where’s your toy, huh?” 

My chuckle is savage this time, vibrating in my sternum and I watch her perk up at the sound like the kitten she is. I descend into madness, willingly, hasty to jump head-first into this thing, despite my following words. 

“You just can’t wait, can you?” 

Her ‘no’ is etched all over her flushed cheeks and I crave to kiss it, run my lips all over it so they can remember it beyond this day, this month—all the way into the new year. 

“Did you pass through security with it or does the entire LAX know what a slut you are?” 

Her words spring in me, exciting me further more, and I can’t help but smile and blush, like her. I drop my gaze, fondle the leather of my belt, and I feel little sparks of muted electricity shooting down my arms. My mind outruns me, picturing the way I physically destroy her for her bratty, delicious mouth, and my smile blossoms, denting into my face. 

“Your ass is gonna be red, little one. So fucking red you won’t be able to sit down.” 

She doesn’t back away at the threat and I visibly see my own reaction reflecting in her. And it’s my mouth that parts this time when she props her phone against something, rises her chest in the air and sits down on her folded legs. And I have to hold onto the table, with the belt still caged in my grasp, when she spreads her thighs and gives me the consent to see all of her. 

Her perked, full breasts, asking for me. Her soft tummy, perfect for my hands to hold. And my own personal ruination down low, between those thighs, glistening and sopping wet. 

“Not even like this?” 

My cock aches. I let go of the belt and the clanging sound accompanies me as I unbutton my pants. “Not even like this.” 

My desire lodges at the bottom of me, pent-up and animalistic. And I take my phone, rummage in my opened suitcase for the toy, lube and head for the shower. My manliness doesn’t even move due to how hard I am. 

Hearing the sizzling noise of the blasting stream of the shower, her brows scrunch up in confusion and I enjoy her obliviousness to her punishment. 

“You’re taking a shower?” 

I’m not too sure about how loud the toy is and I’m not risking having my members eavesdropping on our intimate act with their ears pressed against the thin walls. I’m absolutely not risking shit, locking the door behind me after I leave her in the small rectangular hole in the shower and dispose myself of my underwear. 

And when I step inside and the water dribbles down my sensitive skin, ignited from my lust and hers, I discover that my plan is working out perfectly. 

She can’t see anything. 

She can’t see the lower half of my body—and she won’t be able to watch the petal-ornamented mouth of the toy swirling around my cock. 

And that’s what she gets, talking like that. 

“Get your toy ready, kitty,” I say, letting the water drench me before I get the job done. I push my hair back and I hear her gasp, the sound making me stop my movements. I look over to her, swiping the drops from my eyes, and I find her humping her hand ever so slowly. I rage, beautifully, wishing that was my hand she was gliding her pussy on until I realize that I’m the reason she slid her hand down there. But that still doesn’t mean she’s allowed to do so. “No touching or we stop.”

My heart hammers in my chest when she complies and my weakness for her increases, filling up every part of me until she’s the very owner of me. 

I swell up with pride. 

“Good girl.” 

At my praise she plunges her wet fingers into her mouth and I lose my sanity. I lose my name, my identity, and the knowledge of my whereabouts. I’m not in LA, where I don’t want to be, carrying my responsibilities and the pressure of unfairness on my back, but I’m somewhere else entirely. All by myself in a place, where she’ll soon join me. A wintry island, just for us, where I’m not an idol, where I don’t have a job that forces me away from her, but where I’m free. Free to do whatever I please. 

“Good fucking girl. Let me have a taste.” I lean my palms against the edge of the hole and I die when she reaches her shiny fingers towards me, towards the camera. I hum, the sound interwoven with my gentle laughter, and I stop myself before I lick the screen. “Thank you. So good, Kitty. Now, can you be the best girl ever and lick your toy? Make it nice and wet for your pussy?” 

Her breath trembles as she exhales, reaching over for the red rose beyond the set-up of her phone. And she rests her chest against the mattress, upthrusts her bum in the air and while she’s this close to the camera, she darts out her tongue and drags it over the silicone hole in the center, her alluring eyes fixed on me. 

My arousal oozes out of my tip, scalding hot, and I suck in a breath, fucked out. 

“Fuck, baby,” I husk, my eyelids lowering as my whole body catches on fire, and I can’t respire. I grip the edge until my fingers are bathed in white. My desire asks for more. “Spit on it for Oppa.” 

She moans and I nearly explode, my memories of her noises when I was tongue-deep in her flooding through my mind, and I can’t take any more of it. Especially not the discovery that she’s keen on titles, keen on me being the dominant one. 

My palm itches for my cock, but I won’t give in. Not yet. 

Kitty gathers her saliva and she seizes all of me when she spits on it, circling her tongue around the rim, spreading it there. And then she whines and my manliness twitches, painfully, ridding me of any sense I had left. 

“Can we start now, please?” she begs, and I’m ready to give her everything. 

I moisten my lips. “Wait for just a little while, baby. Let Oppa get his toy ready.” 

And under her gaze, I squirt the lube inside the hollowness and all over myself, sighing and tilting my head back when I scatter the liquid along my shaft. The pressure of my fist is delicate, yet it feels as though I’m levitating. I’m confident it’s owing to the fact I’m being watched by those rounded eyes of hers and that she’s observing what her psyche has done to me. 

“I want to see you,” she whimpers, and I don’t feel like punishing her any longer. 

I unclench my fist. “What pretty word do you use when you ask for something?” 

She doesn’t even think about it and my pride enlarges. “Please.”

“That’s a good fucking kitty.” 

She sits up and nearly fucks her mattress, moaning into her hand—and I know, I already know that I won’t last long under these circumstances. 

I’m so eager to give her what she wants that I don’t perceive that she's never seen this private part of me before until she gasps so fucking loudly that I startle. I’ve set her on the lower shower shelf and her mouth is wide open, the toy prepared in her hand. 

“You’re so…” she trails off, shy all of a sudden, and I might pay for her plane tickets after my shower. I’m fucking her so hard that I’ll mark every single inch of mine inside her pretty pussy. 

“Tiny,” I finish for her, and she laughs in that dopey way, even though we haven’t even started yet. 

“Will that toy even… fit you?” she asks, her pools entwined to my cock, transfixed, and I long to kiss her. Despairingly. 

I look down to my little man, to the toy and eventually to her. “I’ll make it fit.” 

Her breath hitches in her throat, pleasuring me. “If you talk like that while we do our thing, I won’t be able to hold out.” 

I hum, deeply, my endearment. “Why is that a problem?” She’s taken aback, like she always is whenever we talk, and I tilt my head towards the toy in her hand. “I want you to ride it for me.” 

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and places the rose between her legs without taking her eyes off of mine. Ever so dangerous, ever so aphrodisiacal. “I want you to fuck it for me.” 

I groan, wrapping my fist around my shaft. “Turn it on, Kitty. Make yourself feel good.” 

She mewls long before she turns it on—and once she does, her chest arches towards me and her eyes flutter back. Her hips slowly find their rhythm as she begins to hump it, unsure at first before falling into its temptation. And then she’s loud, louder than the raging waterfall behind me, sprinkling me, and louder than me when I get to work and tug on my length. 

My noises bring her to me, but she doesn’t fix her gaze on mine—they pass down to my cock, her moans becoming needier, and she encourages me to join her. 

“Come on, Oppa, it feels so good.” 

I wade in a haze, spurred from her pleasure and now the title, unable to move my limbs. “Is it sucking on your clit?” 

She nods her head, stopping, but it brings forth more delight for her. She crumbles, her chest curving, and she saves herself from tumbling by propping her palm flat on the mattress, struggling—struggling to breathe, struggling to talk. 

“I—I’m not doing it if—if you’re not,” she stutters, her words melting into a whimper and I’m gone. 

It’s her energy, her desperation-fueled energy that pushes me to move my other limb and glide the mouth of the toy down my tip. She orders me to turn it on and I do, bending forward in the paralyzing pleasure it begins to give me. 

And it’s me who’s loud as it sucks on my head so vehemently that I, too, struggle. 

“Fuck, fuck—” I groan, lowering the toy down my length just in time for it to take the other direction, and I don’t moan any of her pet names. No, I moan out her name—and I make her come. 

My name breaks on her tongue and it is as my undoing as it is hers. I have to pull it out of me in order not to stop our playtime there, recuperating by watching her convulse while sitting on the toy as it completely traps her in the celestial realm of her orgasm. My cock twitches in the air, yearning to be inside her, and feel her walls spasm around it. I accept my death for the longevity of the bursting of her pleasure and I fall, I face-plant, drastically, for her. Deeper and deeper. 

No way back. 

“Good girl. So good. Oppa is proud of you.” 

She yelps, overstimulation grappling her, and I bite my lip so hard I break skin. She lifts her bum, quivering, and only when she catches her breath and begs me to come for her do I fuck the toy and chase down my own orgasm. 

And it doesn’t take long. Not when she topples onto the mattress and her face is what I come on while she, again, joins me, working her fingers on her clit out of my view. 

“You know I’m fucking you and not this toy,” I mutter, focusing the suction on my tip as I pound it. And when she moans my name and I hear the squelching of her hole, I throw the toy on the shelf beside my phone and use my hand to stain her face as if she were here with me, on her knees. 

My orgasm erupts and erupts, triggering hers, and we come together like this. Close, yet far away. Looking into each other’s eyes—never failing, never deteriorating, never diving into our past pains. 

Lightness blankets me and I feel as though I could fly and drift through this world without any burdens to bear on my back. Kitty looks well-spent and I suppose I reflect her all over again—and shall reflect her until my last dying day. 

I wipe my screen, my innermost craving still yet not satisfied, and I identify what it truly is. As she raises onto her knees, I lean against the shelf with my elbows and reveal it to her. 

“Let me see your pussy. Show me how wet you were for me.” 

She saw me up close, I didn’t.

It is only fair. 

She swears, enveloping her vulgarities around my name, and she obeys. Lies back down against her silky pillows and takes her phone between her legs, spreading them. She parts her wet folds with the two of her fingers and I salivate. Her clit is swollen and carmine from the intense sucking of the toy, glimmering in the faint light, her lips dripping and her hole squeezing around nothing. I wither in need, tasting blood on my lip, and when she runs all four of her fingers up her clit, I begin to heave. 

Hard, all over again. 

“Such a pretty pussy. Oppa misses it.” 

She purrs nonsense, as sleepy as she is, and the transfer back to reality is brutal. I check the time and it must be almost four AM in Seoul. I grieve the time zone between us, hoping the endeavor we shared was worth her staying up for me. 

“Good night, moon kitty. Sleep well.” 

She mumbles the same without omitting my newly deep-seated title. The three beautiful words for her form on my tongue, but I don’t say them. I save them for a better time, for the end of this tour, once I fly her to me. 

I watch her sleep for a little bit, my cock softening. Her hand is furled under her chin and I think about how she’s protecting my heart right in there. It doesn’t allow me to end the call, so I take a shower, place her on the sink when I dry myself off, on the table when I dress myself and turn my microphone off when I blow dry my hair. 

It is only when Jungkook knocks on my door and sloshes his sudden plan over me that I am forced to let her flow in her dreams without me and keep them undisturbed. 

What he tells me is my duty and I don’t hesitate to pocket my inconspicuous knife that carries too many bad memories. 

I thank him in my head that I get to wash those memories away with a different blood. 

What he tells me is this: “Come with me, hyung, we have a son of a bitch to mutilate.” 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[tabithatwo]

are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.

so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.

why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.

and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.

jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.

if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)

the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.

callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.

(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)