#Anything with caffeine and sugar is bad ... anyway

[lonionjon]

Skrunkly (Cat!John) and Martin based on @ultramarinaa's design and @thestrangepoet's fanfic

The smaller I draw him the happier I am ...

[buttercupshands]

What is your prefered source of caffeine? (If any)

Used to drink energy drinks at one point, but they didn't help, so I stopped

I occasionally drink coffee, and I usually order cappuccino if I have a chance

I don't remember if usual soda and tea have caffeine, so those are the usual preference *shruggs*

(edit. if you don't count that I usually drink water instead when I even remember to drink anything)

[incognit0slut]

Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.

[pillow-coded]

Recording In Progress

Summary: A private investigator goes undercover to expose Spencer Reid’s secrets—but when he catches on, things far more personal than she ever intended.

prompts used: A thinks they've successfully tricked B... when B leans forward and speaks directly into their wire. — “Did you really think this was going to work on me?”

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) MDNI!!!!!

Content Warning: strong language, first person POV, penetrative sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk, power play, unprotected sex, light dom!Spencer, mentions of betrayal and emotional manipulation, semi-consensual dynamics/dubcon, Kinda angsty.

A/N: This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Criminal Minds Undercover Challenge (Also my first second attempt ever for writing smut, hopefully it’s not like bad or cringy)!!

Word Count: 6.3K

I’ve done worse jobs for better pay.

Political smear jobs, corporate leaks, scumbag CEOs cheating on their fourth wives. I’ve worn heels into strip clubs and smiled through dinner with men who thought I didn’t know what a burner phone was. I’ve been called a bitch, a genius, and a ghost, depending on who was signing the check.

I was hired to investigate Dr. Spencer Reid. No reason given, no name offered. Just a large sum wired to my account and a single note: Find out what he’s hiding.

Simple enough.

Except… Spencer Reid doesn’t have a digital footprint. He’s like a ghost in the machine. No scandals, no secrets, not even a hint of skeletons in his closet. And believe me, I looked.

And now here I am—three weeks into my “trial run” as the Bureau’s newest PR-friendly face. The temporary Media Liaison job I got thanks to me pulling some strings. I talk to the news reporters, fetch coffee. Pretend not to notice how agents avoid eye contact when they think I’m listening.

But Spencer?

Spencer doesn’t avoid anything.

He looks right at me when he speaks—slow, deliberate, almost too polite, like he’s weighing every word before he lets it leave his mouth. Like he’s watching for a reaction, waiting to see what sticks. It should’ve made him easy to read. But he wasn’t. If anything, he made me feel like the one under observation.

At first, I told myself he was just awkward. A little too smart, a little too soft. All anxious fingers and mismatched socks, like some deer that wandered too far from the herd and was just hoping someone might keep him company.

Innocent, I thought.

Innocent my ass.

Because there’s something behind those eyes—something that doesn’t flinch. Something that sees everything and stays quiet anyway. And now that I’ve gotten too close, I’m starting to wonder if I’m the one being hunted.

And maybe I should’ve been more careful—should’ve kept my distance.

Because it’s getting harder to tell which parts of this are pretend. The way my hand lingers on his arm when I laugh. The way he says my name like it’s always surprised him.

The wire beneath my shirt itches when I lean forward. I pretend it’s nothing, cross my arms to cover the mic. But he keeps talking.

Stories. Facts. Soft opinions. I record all of it. Hours of audio. Dozens of little truths. And yet none of it sounds like a secret.

It started with coffee.

Not because I actually wanted it—God knows the Bureau’s idea of caffeine tastes like it was filtered through a floor mop—but because he always had one. Every morning. Same cup, same lid, same little paper napkin wrapped around it like he didn’t want his fingers touching the surface.

So I started bringing him one. A peace offering. An excuse. A way in.

“No cream, four sugars,” I’d say, like I didn’t already have it memorized from the second day.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me coffee,” he’d murmur, almost shy. “But thank you.”

Then he’d take it anyway. Every time. Like it was a favor he wasn’t sure he deserved.

It disarmed me.

The first few days I kept things casual—too casual. Just enough charm to keep the agents from digging into my file, just enough polish to look useful in a crisis. And Spencer? Spencer was easy to hover near. Everyone else gave him a wide berth. Not because they didn’t like him, I realized. Because they didn’t understand him.

But I did.

Or I acted like I did, which, honestly, wasn’t hard. He talks when you let him. Especially about things most people pretend to care about but don’t. String theory. Linguistics. Microexpressions. Magic tricks.

“The trick isn’t in the sleight of hand,” he told me once, while shuffling a deck between his fingers. “It’s in where you make people look instead.”

“Is that what you’re doing to me?” I’d asked. “Misdirection?”

He didn’t answer.

Just smiled without showing his teeth.

And it messed me up more than I expected.

Because here’s the thing: Spencer Reid doesn’t flirt. Not really. He observes. He listens, catalogues, memorizes. And he gives you just enough of himself to make you want more. That’s the part I wasn’t prepared for.

Like yesterday—he’d asked about my family. Out of nowhere. Soft and curious.

“You mentioned your dad’s a journalist,” he said, halfway through a case debrief. “Is that what made you want to work in media?”

He had no idea how deep that question could’ve cut. But he asked it like he already suspected the answer and just wanted to see if I’d lie.

I did.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

He nodded. Didn’t press.

But something shifted.

He started watching me more closely after that. Saying my name more often. Brushing past me in the hallway, close enough for the hem of his sweater to ghost over my knuckles. A lesser man would’ve tried something by now. Spencer just... lingered.

And then today. God, today.

The bullpen was nearly empty. Just the two of us, caught in that odd hour between too-late and not-late-enough. I made a joke—light, harmless.

“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually like coffee,” I said. “You just like holding something in your hands so you don’t have to look busy.”

I waited for that soft half-smile he always gives when he’s amused. The one that makes his eyes crease, just barely.

It didn’t come.

Instead, he looked at me.

Really looked at me.

“You ask a lot of questions,” he said quietly. Not accusing. Just… observing.

I felt it before he even moved—this creeping heat behind my ribs. I tried to keep still, tried not to let the sudden tension show.

“So do you,” I replied, aiming for playful. It landed a little too breathy.

He took a step forward.

Then another.

I could’ve backed up. I didn’t.

He was close now. Closer than protocol allows, closer than he’s ever been. My pulse ticked loud in my ears. I swallowed. I waited for him to speak.

He didn’t. Not at first.

His eyes flicked to my chest, and for a moment, I thought—

But no. He wasn’t looking at my lips. He was looking lower.

Right where the mic was taped beneath my shirt.

“You wore that all day?” he asked, voice low. No heat in it—just something sharp and calm and terrifying.

“I don’t know what you—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said.

My mouth shut. The weight of his gaze was like gravity, dragging me down into silence.

And then he leaned in. His mouth hovered just beside my ear, breath warm, voice so low it barely stirred the air between us.

“Did you really think this was going to work on me?”

I stopped breathing. My spine locked. My mouth went dry.

“You’ve been recording me.” It wasn’t a question. He tilted his head slightly, studying me the way you’d study a fracture—trying to guess where the break began.

He didn’t pull away.

“You’ve been careful,” he murmured, “I’ll give you that. The questions were subtle. The charm? Believable. The coffee orders were a nice touch. But I don’t trust people who learn too fast.”

I wanted to speak. I really did. But my throat wouldn’t work.

“Especially not people who ask about things I’ve never told anyone.”

And just like that, he stepped back.

My heart was in my mouth. The wire burned under my shirt like a brand. I felt exposed in a way I never had before—caught not just in a lie, but in something deeper. Something personal. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded disappointed. Maybe even hurt.

“Who sent you?” he asked, softer now. Not demanding. Just… tired. Like he already knew.

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

A small smile tugged at his mouth. But there was nothing warm in it.

“Then tell me what it is. Because I’m trying really hard to believe this wasn’t just some elaborate… game.”

I didn’t say anything.

I wanted to. I think I even opened my mouth. But there was no defense I could give that wouldn’t sound like another lie. Another twist of the knife.

So I just stood there, heart thudding against the wire, pulse loud in my ears, and let him look at me.

He waited.

And when I didn’t give him anything—not an apology, not an excuse—something in his face changed.

Not anger. Not disgust.

Something quieter.

Like disappointment. Like resignation. Like he’d already filed me away under lost cause.

“Tell whoever sent you they won’t find what they’re looking for.”

He paused.

“And if they want to try again,” he says, eyes still on mine, “tell them next time… they should send someone I won’t miss when they leave.”

He turns to walk away, and I should let him.

But I don’t.

“Wait,” I say—sharper than I mean to.

He stops. Doesn’t turn around right away.

When he does, it’s slow. Controlled. Every part of him unreadable. Except his eyes—they're sharper now. Sadder too. Like I’d cut him without knowing where the blade was.

“You think I wanted this to happen?” I ask. “You think I planned to care?”

He just looks at me. Long and hard.

“You didn’t plan anything,” he says. “That’s the problem.”

He steps closer. The space between us evaporates. My pulse flutters. His eyes fall to my chest—where the wire sits taped beneath my shirt. His jaw clenches.

“I should report you,” he says. “Walk you out of here myself and forget this ever happened.”

“You should,” I whisper.

He exhales slowly through his nose. Like he's trying to talk himself down from something.

“I knew something was off,” he says. “But you—you looked at me like…”

He stops. Closes his eyes for just a second. Opens them again.

“I was doing my job,” I say.

“You were lying.”

We’re close enough now that I can feel the tension roll off him like heat. His hand lifts—hesitates—then brushes the edge of my collar. Just two fingers. Just enough to press gently over the place where the wire sits.

His voice is low, and it trembles with something between fury and want.

“I’m going to give you five seconds to walk away before I do something we’ll both regret.”

He doesn’t count.

Neither do I.

Because I don’t move.

And neither does he.

Not until the pretending breaks—soft and sudden, like the snap of a wire pulled too tight for too long.

His breath stutters, and I see it—right there in his eyes—that flicker of recognition. That I’m not going anywhere. That whatever this is between us, it’s no longer something we can ignore.

Then he moves.

Slow at first, like he’s giving me time to pull away. Like he’s testing the current between us.

But I don’t flinch. I can’t.

Without a word, he closes the remaining distance, seizing my chin gently between his fingers. His touch is deliberate—measured—there's heat in it, too. His thumb traces the curve of my lower lip, slow and careful, brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath.

His other hand finds my hip—strong, sure—as he pulls me flush against him. I feel the heat of his body through the fabric of my clothes, the hard planes of his chest and abdomen molding against the softer lines of mine like they were made to fit.

He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away. I don’t.

His lips hover just above mine, a hairsbreadth of space between us. I can feel his breath mingling with mine, warm and unsteady. The scent of him fills my lungs—clean cologne, warm skin, and something unmistakably him.

“Last chance,” he whispers, voice low and rough and dangerous in the best way.

And I don’t take it.

His words hang in the charged air between us, suspended for a single, trembling moment. Time seems to slow—each heartbeat stretching into forever—as I stand there, breath caught, teetering on the edge of something I can’t undo.

He murmurs something under his breath—too quiet to catch, too dark to be innocent—and then he moves.

He closes the final inch between us, and his lips crash into mine in a searing, hungry kiss that steals my breath and sets every nerve in my body alight.

One of his hands tangles into my hair, tilting my head just enough to deepen the kiss. The other tightens at my hip, pulling me harder against him until there’s nothing between us but heat and tension and the press of his body against mine—hard, unyielding, and everywhere.

His tongue slips past my lips, bold and sure, stroking along mine and sending sparks through me so sharp they feel like electricity in my bloodstream. I can taste the desperation in his kiss—feel the pent-up longing in the way his fingers clutch at my waist like he’s afraid I might disappear.

It isn’t a kiss. It’s a demand.

And I give in to it, completely.

He walks me backward, mouth still on mine, until the edge of his desk catches the backs of my legs. I hit it with a quiet thud, breath hitching—not from shock this time, but from the sheer, aching need curling low in my stomach.

His hands skim up my sides, fingertips dragging slowly over the thin fabric of my blouse. His palms are warm and slightly rough, catching just enough to make my skin spark beneath the surface. I feel every inch of contact like a live wire beneath my clothes, and when his hands reach my ribcage, he pauses—just for a breath—before slipping his fingers to the buttons of my shirt.

One by one, he undoes them.

I gasp as cool air brushes the skin beneath, the lace of my bra suddenly far too delicate, too flimsy. But his attention isn’t on the fabric. Not entirely.

His fingers ghost over the mic, still taped below my sternum. He lingers there, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly over it. Then he looks up, eyes dark, mouth curling into something between a smirk and a warning.

My stomach flips. My mouth parts—but I don’t know whether it’s to object or to breathe.

He doesn’t wait for a response.

He leans in and presses his mouth to the base of my throat, kissing a path downward. His lips are hot. His stubble scrapes. He grazes my pulse with his teeth before his mouth latches onto that tender skin just above my collarbone.

He suckles and nips with deliberate intent, letting his jaw rasp against my neck as he pulls another broken breath from me.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?” he mutters against my throat, voice low and uneven.

Without warning, his hands grip my thighs and lift—effortless, like he’s been waiting to do it for weeks. He sets me on the edge of his desk, the cool surface biting against the backs of my legs. In the next breath, he steps between them, settling into the cradle of my hips.

The zipper of his slacks scrapes rough against my inner thighs, and then I feel it—hard, hot, and insistent, pressing right where I need him most.

He doesn’t move. Not yet.

He just waits—daring me to admit I want it just as badly.

His eyes lock on mine, sharp and unrelenting, like they’re looking through me, not at me. There’s heat there, sure, but it’s more than that. It’s intensity. Focus. A fire that catches deep in my belly and threatens to devour everything in its path.

The air between us pulses, thick with tension. A silent standoff. Neither of us willing to look away. Neither of us willing to surrender first.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and raw, rough enough to scrape down my spine. His hands tighten on my thighs, grounding me. Holding me still. “Tell me you’ve felt this too. The way we… fit. The chemistry—it’s like a live wire between us, and you know it.”

He leans in, mouth brushing so close I can feel the shape of the words before he says them.

“I want to hear you say it. Admit it. That you’re just as lost in this… thing as I am. That you burn for my hands, that you crave my mouth, that you ache to be undone by me.”

A tremble works its way through my spine. I don’t trust myself to speak.

His hand slides from my thigh up my side—slow, deliberate. Fingertips grazing the curve of my ribcage, mapping the slope of my breast. He palms it through the thin lace of my bra, the heat of his touch making me gasp.

Then his thumb finds my nipple.

Rolls it. Just once.

A shock of sensation shoots through me, and I bite my lip to stop the sound that nearly escapes.

He feels it. Knows it.

And his mouth curls, just slightly. Like he’s satisfied—but not nearly done.

He gathers my answer without a single word—reading it in the tremble of my thighs, the sharp hitch in my breath, the way heat blooms across my skin in a helpless, rosy flush. His eyes, now dark and heavy-lidded with want, drag over me like he’s cataloging every reaction… and storing it for later.

I don’t even know what I’m begging for when I whisper,

“Spencer… please…”

But it’s enough.

It’s more than enough.

Something shifts in him—like control has finally slipped through his fingers, and now he’s choosing to let it go.

His hand dips beneath the lace of my bra, his fingers brushing bare skin. My breath stutters as his palm curves around me, warm and possessive. He cups the weight of my breast, rolling it gently, then pinches and tugs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it stiffens in his grasp.

The sensation ricochets through me—sharp, heady, electric.

Before I can even moan, his other hand finds its way into my hair. He fists it at the base of my skull, not rough, but firm enough to steal my breath. And then he kisses me.

No warning. No hesitation.

Just heat.

His mouth crashes into mine with a hunger I feel in every nerve ending. It’s the kind of kiss that scrapes thought from bone. The kind that tells me this isn’t just lust. It’s possession.

I’m not kissing Spencer Reid.

I’m being devoured by him.

He devours my moan like he’s starved for it—like the sound alone could satisfy something buried deep inside him. His mouth moves hungrily against mine, swallowing every breath, every sound, as if he’s trying to consume me from the inside out.

His grip tightens in my hair, angling my head with a rough kind of reverence that opens me completely to him. The hand on my breast isn’t gentle anymore. He kneads the soft flesh firmly, expertly, and the mix of pressure and pleasure sends shivers racing down my spine.

When he finally tears his mouth from mine, I’m gasping—but he doesn’t give me long to recover.

His lips blaze a trail down the column of my neck, his teeth dragging, tongue soothing, until he reaches my pulse point and lingers there. He bites, just hard enough to sting, then soothes it with his tongue, in a way that makes my whole body clench.

He trails lower.

Mouth warm and wet as he moves down the swell of my breasts, over the valley between them, until he reaches the curve of lace hiding what he wants most.

His lips close around my nipple through the soaked fabric of my bra, sucking hard enough to make me cry out. My hips jerk instinctively, chasing friction, chasing him.

His fingers don’t hesitate. They find the clasp at my back, working with practiced ease, and I feel the tension in the garment give way.

I’m panting now, barely keeping up with the pace he’s set—as the cool air hits my bare skin, kissing over every exposed inch and pebbling it with goosebumps. But there’s no relief. Not from the heat pouring off of him. He’s everywhere. Surrounding me. Consuming me.

He shoves the fabric of my bra aside and his mouth descends without hesitation, closing around my nipple in a wet, greedy heat that makes my head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. He licks, broad, deliberate strokes, then circles the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue before suckling, hungry and unrelenting, like he’s ravenous for me.

I cry out. I can’t help it.

His other hand cups my remaining breast, fingers rough and insistent as they knead and pluck, teasing the tip until it aches under his touch. Every movement marks me until I feel like there’s nothing left untouched.

And still, it’s not enough.

His hips begin to move—slow, grinding rolls that press the hard ridge of his arousal against my center. Even through the barrier of my clothes, the friction is maddening. Precise. He grinds again, and I feel my thighs part a little more with each thrust, until the thick swell of him is nestled perfectly against the place I need him most.

I arch. I whimper. I burn.

“Tell me what you need,” he growls, voice rough and low in my ear.

I meet his gaze, barely holding it. My voice trembles as I breathe,

“You… all of you.”

His hand leaves my breast, trailing down the center of my body in a path that feels like fire. slow and deliberate. His fingertips glide over my trembling stomach, dipping lower until they reach the waistband of my skirt.

He doesn’t ask permission.

He just slips his hand beneath it, under the thin barrier of my underwear, and groans softly when he feels how soaked I already am.

“Like this?” he rasps, fingers brushing against my center with maddening restraint. “Is this what you wanted?”

The heat in his voice wrecks me. Low, rough, commanding. A far cry from the soft-spoken man I’d spent weeks practically studying. This wasn’t shy, awkward Spencer. This was something darker. Hungrier. A version of him I wasn’t sure anyone else had ever seen.

He strokes me through the slick fabric, circling over my clit with just enough pressure to leave me gasping but not enough to satisfy. Every touch is calculated—teasing, fleeting—designed to unravel me without giving me what I want.

“Tell me,” he says, the edge in his voice tightening. “Tell me how badly you need me.”

I try to answer, but all that comes out is a broken sound—half gasp, half plea.

His fingers press a little harder, his mouth close to my ear now, every word dripping with dominance and need.

“Say it,” he breathes. “Say you want me. Say you want to feel me deep inside you… filling you, wrecking you.”

The pressure builds, unbearable, electric. I’m shaking. I can barely breathe.

And I want it—I want everything.

“Say it,” he growls, fingers pressing harder against my aching center. The friction sharpens, maddening—his touch no longer teasing but demanding, as he rubs firm, relentless circles over my clit. His other hand grips my hip, holding me in place with bruising intensity, like he doesn’t trust me not to fall apart.

“Beg for it,” he mutters, voice low and wrecked. “Beg for my cock like the desperate little thing I know you are. I want to hear you scream for it.”

The words hit me like a jolt to the spine—vulgar, filthy, perfect.

His fingers shove my panties to the side, and one thick, calloused fingertip slides between my folds, slow and deliberate. He drags it through my slick heat, teasing—hovering just at the entrance, never quite giving in. A low, satisfied sound escapes him, like he’s savoring the way I tremble beneath him.

And then, with the hand not working me open, he reaches down to his belt. I hear the soft clink of metal, the zip of fabric sliding apart. He doesn’t rush it. Doesn’t break eye contact. Just keeps touching me—keeping me on the edge—as he frees himself with terrifying calm.

“You feel that?” he mutters, pressing himself into my thigh, the outline of him thick and undeniable through the cotton. “You shouldn’t be able to do this to me,”

His breath stutters against my cheek as he shifts his weight, one hand still working me open while the other reaches down. I feel the stretch of fabric, the quiet drag of cotton being pushed aside. Then the thick heat of him presses directly against me—bare now, heavy and pulsing at my entrance. The last barrier is gone. There’s nothing between us anymore.

He’s right there—right there—poised to push inside, to take, to ruin, and still… he waits.

And I break.

“Please,” I choke out, breathless, undone. “Oh my God, please, I—I need you.”

“I think you do,” he growls, voice low and ragged. “I think you need my cock buried inside this sweet little pussy”

And then he moves.

One swift, brutal thrust—and he’s inside me.

Fully. Completely.

I gasp, no sound behind it, my mouth falling open as he stretches me wide in a single, punishing stroke. He drives in to the hilt, hips pressing flush against mine, forcing my body to take every inch of him.

I’m overwhelmed. Split open. Filled.

“Fuck,” he snarls, the sound rumbling out against my chest, where his body presses hot and heavy over mine.

He gives me no time to adjust—no breath, no mercy. He pulls out almost entirely, just the thick tip left inside, and then slams back in with a force that steals what little air I have left.

Again.

And again.

Each thrust is brutal. Precise. Unrelenting.

The rhythm builds fast—sharp, punishing, perfect—and it’s all I can do to hold on. My cries are ragged, torn from my throat as he drives up into me like he’s trying to etch himself into my body, brand me from the inside out.

One hand clamps around my hip, fingers digging deep into flesh, anchoring me in place as he fucks me like he owns every inch of me.

His free hand moves lower, searching.

I barely register it through the haze of sensation until I feel a sudden tug at my waist—sharp, deliberate.

His fingers find the wire trailing from the recorder clipped to my skirt, and before I can react, he yanks. The movement is swift, almost angry. The adhesive holding the tiny mic to my chest rips free with a sting, the wire snapping taut as he drags the entire thing into his hand like a secret he’s been waiting to expose.

He brings it up, slow and deliberate, until it’s hovering right at my lips.

“Is this still on?” he murmurs, voice wrecked and quiet, eyes never leaving mine. “You gonna send this to them? Let them hear what you sound like when you're being fucked by the person you’re supposed to be investigating?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

He just holds it there—steadily, deliberately—catching every breathless moan, every gasp, every desperate sound that spills from my lips.

“All those filthy little sounds. Let it record what you sound like when you're mine.”

And God help me—I moan for him. Loud. Unashamed.

His eyes flicker—dark and satisfied—as he presses the mic even closer to my lips, like he wants it to catch everything.

“That’s it,” he breathes, the corner of his mouth twitching into the ghost of a smirk. “Let it hear how desperate you sound when I’m inside you.”

He punctuates the words with a sharp thrust, forcing another cry from my throat—one I can’t bite back even if I tried.

“You think they’ll recognize your voice?” he murmurs, low and mocking as his hips roll into mine, relentless. “Think they’ll hear how wrecked you sound and wonder what it cost you?”

Every thrust lands with calculated force, his pace unforgiving, grinding me closer to the edge with each brutal stroke. My hands scramble for something to hold—his shoulders, the edge of the desk, anything—but there’s no grounding here. Just him. Just the sound of skin meeting skin and the filthy, wrecked sounds he’s dragging from my throat.

And the mic.

Still held to my lips. Still recording everything.

“You were supposed to be watching me,” he grits out between thrusts, the words strained with effort. “But look at you now.”

Another slam of his hips, and I cry out again—louder this time, legs shaking, breath hitching. I can feel the tremor starting in my core, the tightening that warns of everything about to snap.

“This what they wanted?” he growls, jaw clenched. “You giving them everything but the answers?”

He presses in deeper—deeper than before, like he’s trying to bury himself in me, leave something behind. His forehead drops to mine, sweat-slick and shaking with restraint.

“You’re not gonna be able to listen back to this without coming apart,” he whispers, voice rough and fraying. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Spencer!”

My nails dig into his back, desperate for something—release, control, him. I don’t even know if I’m clinging to him or trying to pull him deeper, but he groans when I do it—low and wrecked—like it unravels something he’s been barely holding together.

His pace stutters for just a beat.

Then he grabs my thigh, hikes it higher around his hip, and drives into me again with brutal, unrelenting force.

The desk creaks beneath us. The microphone trembles in his hand.

“That’s it…” he breathes against my mouth. “Say my name.”

Another thrust. My body arches, wrecked and raw.

“Say it like you mean it. Let them hear you fall apart for me.”

And I do.

Each time his name tears from my throat, his grip tightens—on my thigh, on my waist, on the mic still trembling in his hand. He’s losing rhythm now, chasing something just out of reach, buried deep inside me like he can’t stop until we both fall off the edge together.

His movements turn rougher, more erratic, like control is slipping through his fingers and he wants it to.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice breaking apart. “Come on—give it to me.”

The pressure coils tight and fast, unbearably sharp, building from deep inside me like a wave I can’t outrun. I feel it clawing up my spine, lighting every nerve on fire, and I know—I know—I’m about to break.

“Spencer—” my voice fractures.

I shatter around him with a cry that borders on a sob, back arching, thighs trembling, everything inside me clenching hard around him as my climax hits like a lightning strike—hot and endless and all-consuming.

He groans my name in return, low and guttural, pressing his forehead to mine as he follows me over the edge with a final, desperate thrust. His body jerks against mine, hips stuttering as he spills into me, his breath ragged and uneven in my ear.

And then… stillness.

Just the sound of our breathing. Heavy. Shaky. Shallow.

His hand falls away from the mic, letting it dangle by its wire like a forgotten confession. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

For a moment, it’s just quiet.

Then he pulls out of me slowly, carefully, like he doesn’t want to hurt me—but the ache he leaves behind is instant.

I shift, suddenly aware of my half-unbuttoned blouse, the stretch of my thigh still hooked around him, the sweat cooling between us. The shame doesn’t hit all at once. It creeps in.

And then he speaks.

“You can stop recording now.”

His voice is calm. Too calm.

My throat tightens. I reach for the mic with shaking fingers, powering it off in silence. He watches me do it—watches everything—and still doesn’t look away.

“Who sent you?”

I flinch.

It’s not a growl. Not a threat. Just a question. Clinical. Lethal in its precision.

“Was it internal? Press? Private buyer?”

I try to form words, but none come. I look at him, eyes wide, mouth parted, still wrecked in every sense of the word. I open my lips—twice—and still nothing.

He exhales through his nose, eyes flicking away for the first time.

Not angry. Not even hurt. Just… resigned.

“That’s what I thought.”

He moves before I can speak. Reaches down, tucks himself back into his boxers, then zips up his slacks with that same quiet efficiency—controlled, distant, like he’s locking something away. Like he doesn’t want me to see any part of him he didn’t mean to give.

“Get dressed.”

His voice is steady, but the tension in his jaw speaks volumes.

I open my mouth again.

“Spencer, I—”

“Don’t.”

He turns away, running a hand through his hair like it hurts to keep standing there. His shoulders are tense, spine straight, but I see the tremble in his hand. He’s not angry.

He’s wrecked.

Not because I fooled him.

Because he let me.

And he’s about to walk away—leave me in the silence we created—when the word escapes me, sharp and sudden:

“Wait.”

He stops. Doesn’t turn around fully. Just enough for me to see the side of his face, unreadable.

My fingers move before I can think. I reach down, disconnect the recorder, and slide out the memory card. Small. Light. But somehow heavier than anything I’ve ever held.

I walk toward him. Quiet steps. Careful steps. And when I reach him, I place it in his hand.

“Here,” I whisper. “Here’s everything.”

He stares at it for a long moment. Then closes his fingers around it.

“What do you want me to do with it?” he asks, voice low. Tired. But not cold.

I meet his eyes.

“Whatever you want.”

He nods—just once—and slips it into his pocket.

For a moment, neither of us moves.

And then, softer than before, he says, “You know… You could’ve just asked.”

I step up beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth still clinging to him. Close enough to imagine, for a second, that we could leave like this. Side by side.

“Would you really have told me anything?” I ask quietly, not looking at him.

There’s a pause.

Then—just barely above a whisper—

“Maybe not everything.”

Another beat. A breath.

“But I would’ve told you the truth.”

We stand there in the hallway—two liars trying to remember how to be honest.

And this time, when he turns to walk, he doesn’t walk away.

He waits.

take a slow step forward, then another, until I’m beside him again. Close enough to feel the quiet shift in the air between us.

“Well… I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” I say, trying to smile—trying to ease the weight.

He doesn’t respond. Just watches me.

So I drop the joke.

“For the record… even if you don’t believe me, it got real. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being part of the job.”

I glance up, meet his eyes.

“You’re real to me, Spencer.”

And for a moment, he just looks at me—searching. Like he’s trying to decide whether to believe me.

Then, finally, quietly—

“I know.”

And he starts walking.

This time, I follow.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

[lieslab]

Shadows and silhouettes

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: You admit when you stress out, your brain causes you to imagine things out of the ordinary.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This was a request from what feels like ages ago. The request was so vague, so I made this more on the light-hearted side of things. Although it's shorter, I hope you enjoy <3

_ _ _

Chan:

“Hey, Chan?” 

“Huh?” Chan glanced up from his desk. His laptop sat open as he saved a file. “What’s up?” 

“How big are the spiders in Australia?” 

“Um…” He grimaced and sucked in a deep breath. “They’re pretty big, why? Did you see a big spider? I can happily reassure you that the spiders here are nowhere near the same size.” 

You didn’t take your eyes off a certain spot on the wall. When Chan noticed, he pushed himself from his seat and stood up. “Is it over there? I can get my shoe and take care of it.” He stepped over behind you. The scent of his spicy cologne filled your nostrils. 

You blinked and shook your head. “Nah, never mind. I must have imagined it. I’m really stressed and it went away when I blinked. Thanks anyway, it’s good to know that I can count on you.” You smiled and patted his shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll be back later, I’ve gotta go grocery shopping. I’ll see you soon!” 

His mouth opened to say something, but words didn’t come out. You leaned over, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and left the room. Your words echoed in his head. He glanced around the area, still worried about a nearby spider. 

Australian or not, it still didn’t mean he liked spiders. 

_ _ _ 

Minho: 

“What did you say?” Your head jerked over your shoulder at the sound of a whispered voice. 

Minho stared at you with a raised eyebrow. “What? Nothing. I haven’t said anything.” The two of you were standing in line at a cafe. Soft murmurs filled the air, but you swore he said something behind you. 

“Are you sure?” Your eyes narrowed. “If you have a problem with my drink of choice-” 

“Woah,” his hands went up, “I didn’t say anything, yet. Since you want to start, I can say something now. Your drink of choice is pure shit. How much sugar and caffeine does a single person need? You’re going to cause your heart to explode.” 

“Untwist your dick and get off your high horse! Want to complain about me and my order? At least, I don’t drink Americanos. No flavor. Nothing, but diluted bean juice. Disgusting.” 

He reached up and pressed a finger to the center of your forehead. “Ding, dong, your opinion is wrong.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“You’re hearing the voice of God. He’s saying make better coffee choices. If you don’t, the devil is going to get you.” 

“It’s actually probably psychosis or something.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Nothing.” You spun back around, leaving him in disbelief. He blinked rapidly, looking around and wondering if anyone else heard your words. When you didn’t say anything else, he shook his head. 

“I knew you were a nut case, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” 

“Hey, I heard that. I’m going to poison your coffee.” 

“Spare me empty threats and just put me out of my misery.” 

_ _ _ 

Changbin: 

“Do you ever see or hear things when you’re stressed?” The words came out of your mouth without a single stutter or call of alarm. You uttered the words with your head against the arm of the couch, as if they really didn’t matter much. 

“What?” 

“I asked if you see or hear things when you’re stressed. Like you know, shadows and faint whispers and whatnot.” 

Changbin stared at you with wide eyes. “I-I um… no?” He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t believe that I ever have. Do you do that?” 

“Yeah, sometimes.” 

“I think we should get you seen by a doctor. That doesn’t seem normal or okay. Does your head hurt? Are you having vision issues? Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” 

He held up three fingers and it caused you to laugh. Your head shook and your hair flew in multiple different directions. “No, it’s not like that. My head is fine and I can see perfectly fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” you insisted. 

“You worry me sometimes.” 

You squirmed over to his side of the couch and laid your head on his thigh. “I’m okay, I swear. I think I just worry too much and my anxiety causes issues.” 

“And you’re sure it’s manageable and under control?” His hand reached down to play with your hair.

“Absolutely.” 

“Good.” 

You smiled as he kissed the top of your head. 

_ _ _ 

Hyunjin: 

“Stay put! Stay there! Don’t move!” Hyunjin held a hand up to you. Worried dark eyes were wide. “Just don’t move and I’ll help you. I can go get Felix, he has that big ass bible. Channie, hyung can help us too.” 

You stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “For what?” 

“You just said you hear things that aren’t there! That’s like the first sign of demonic possession. Felix knows his bible! I’m sure we can get Changbin involved to hold you down. The devil can’t fight off all of us.” 

“Hyunjin, I don’t need an exorcism!” 

“Demonic possession!” 

“I’m not possessed!” 

“You are!” He screamed when you stood up from the kitchen table. His fingers went up in a small cross. “Stay back, demon! Stay back! In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, I command you to-” 

He cut off when your lips met his. You cupped his cheeks and gently patted them. “Would a demonically possessed person do that?” 

“No, but a succubus and an incubus would. This doesn’t make me feel better. I need Felix to conjure up some holy water. My spirit is in danger.” His hand went to his chest and he shook his head frantically. “I can feel it.”

_ _ _ 

Han: 

“And you’ve just dealt with this for how long?” Han’s head tipped to the side. “These um… things?” 

You chuckled, trying not to fall victim to his cuteness. “A long time. It’s just become a part of my life. I don’t fear it and it only happens when I’m really stressed.” 

“So if you see a shadow figure, I won’t see the shadow figure?” 

“You shouldn’t. It’s just me and my brain that’s causing the issue, not yours.” 

His water bottle crinkled in his hand and his entire body shook with a brief shiver. “I don’t know how you put up with that. Why don’t you freak out? If that was me, I’d need to be put out of my misery or put on medicine or something.” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“Bro, I think seeing Casper the friendly ghost floating above your head is pretty bad.” Han frowned and lowered his voice. “What if he tries to seduce you? You’re mine.” 

“Babe, Casper is a ghost child and it’s not like that.” 

“Oh! Thank God!” He slumped over in his chair relieved. “I’m safe for another day. I can’t lose you to a hot ghost.” 

“You’re such a loser.” 

“Put some respect on my brand, a hot loser.” 

_ _ _ 

Felix: 

The first time you told Felix about your experiences with stress, he frowned. His hand reached out and he pressed the back of his palm against the back of your head. Your eyebrows furrowed, “what are you doing?” 

“I’m checking to see if you have a fever because that sounded like a delusion. You can’t possibly be serious, but I don’t think you’re burning up either. Sweetheart, are you having a mental health crisis? I have an advocate on speed dial and-” 

You laughed and shook your head. “No, Felix, I’ve made my peace with this a long time ago. It’s just random stuff and it means nothing.” 

“Can I still take you to the doctor? It’d make me feel a lot better about this. I just want to make sure you’re not overlooking something, I don’t mean to overstep, really.” 

“You’re sure it’d make you feel better?” 

He nodded. 

“Then I suppose I’ll make an appointment for next week. Just try not to worry too much until then, okay?” 

His arms wrapped around your waist tighter. “I’ll try, but you make these things so difficult sometimes. I love you an awful lot and want the best for you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“I love you more.” 

“And I love you most.” 

_ _ _ 

Seungmin: 

“Okay, what the fuck?” 

“What?” You blinked innocently, wondering why he seemed so stunned. “It’s a harmless and simple thing.” 

“Uh, yeah,” he scoffed. “Sure. Because normal people see bugs, blink, and they disappear. Abracadabra or whatever. Uh-huh. Sure.” 

You groaned and threw yourself back into your chair. “Why do you have to be like that? It’s not that big of a deal. It’s only once in a while, anyway. You’re making something so serious out of nothing.” 

“If you admit this to a doctor, they’re going to throw your ass in the mental ward.” 

“Now you’re being silly.” 

“Straight jacket and all.” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on the food on your plate. “You’re ruining my dinner.” 

“ME?” His jaw dropped and he pointed the fork to his chest. “You just told me you see flies in this house when they don’t exist! You’re the one watching the spiders of smashings past, web up my fine china! I told you that this is why you take the bugs outside and stop killing them. Now you’ve got their ghosts haunting your dumbass.” 

You grumbled and rolled your eyes. 

“Keep up that attitude and next thing you know, they’re going to haunt your hole.” 

“Up yours, Kim Seungmin.” 

_ _ _ 

Jeongin: 

Jeongin’s eyes widened after your announcement. He collapsed his hands together, pulled them apart, and threw them up in the air. You shrugged and pulled the barren blankets over your body. “I told you it was weird.” 

“I’m truly speechless. I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m like…” 

“Like what?” You rolled over to face him. 

“Ten seconds away from losing it. How are you so calm about this?” 

“The first time it happened I wasn’t. Do you know how haunting it was? I looked out the back door and there was a vampire.” 

His nose scrunched up and his lips parted. His head tipped in a look of disgust. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

“He waved at me and flashed his fangs.” 

“And you didn’t think to call the cops or something?” 

“For what? I blinked and he disappeared.” 

“You would not survive a home invasion. I love you so much and you know that, but oh my god. If you see a person lingering and peering into your back door, you should call the cops for someone trespassing.” 

“And tell them what? A vampire was at my back door? He gave me a drive by flashing?” You rolled your eyes, rolled further into the pillow, and shut your eyes. “They’d think I was high on crack.” 

“Sometimes, I really think you are.” 

“Harsh.” 

“I really don’t know what to say.” 

“Just go to sleep.” 

He sighed and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Great. Now I’m going to be afraid that we have a vampire of interest lurking around outside.” 

“We do. You live with Chan. I’m pretty sure he’s raiding the kitchen for garlic, so he can make spaghetti and garlic bread.” 

“It’s three in the morning!” 

“And vampire producers have to eat a fulfilling meal too.”

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

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[booliuu]

Can we get your Homicidal Liu HCs? Your BP ones were amazing!! :D

♱ Homicidal Liu Headcanons .ᐟ.ᐟ ⟢˚﹒

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : ANSJSJSB IM SO GLAD YOU LOVE IT !!!! and ofc! 💚💚 i hope this is what your looking for anon ^^ im sorry it’s so long! the urge of yapping about liu has been so strong these days lol.

my inbox is open for asks & requests!! if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog❤️. enjoy reading!

latest hc’s i finished are : ej’s & bloody painter . you should check it as well!

pictures are from pinterest 🍀.

🍁. . . His full name is Liu Woods. also known as homicidal liu. creeps call him homicidal just to taunt him . absolutely hates the name. heavily likes to be referred to as Liu.

🍁. . . Height : he’s the eldest sibling so he’s pretty dang tall. I’d say 6’0 or 6’5.

🍁. . . siblings: Jeffery Woods.

🍁. . . His birthday: 12/21. December 21st . ( he’s in his late 20’s ) him and jeff are about 2-3 years apart.

🍁. . . he/him.

🍁. . . bisexual.

🍁. . . he’s a Sagittarius ♐️ .

🍁. . . he’s American. born and raised in america 🇺🇸 . same with his younger brother.

🍁. . . he’s white. has spanish roots from both parents . same with his little bro . likely there ancestors are from Spain or Venezuela .

🍁. . . His favorite color is fall colors. such as orange, red , yellow . but also loves different shades of green c:

🍁. . . his main catchphrase: “ I forgave my brother for trying to kill me. I understand the urges he gets, I’ve fallen for the same ones time and time again in the past, so who am I to really judge him, anyway…”

🍁. . . i would describe his built to be that he’s so freaking tall. ( nothing compared to ej , laughing jack or slender though..) most of the time creeps have to look up while talking to him. his posture is good its just..chronic back pains TvT.

🍁. . . some may think he’s skinny and sick looking but under all the thick clothes he’s wearing all day he’s actually pretty lean. he has a bit of muscles in him. healthy and tone! tries to take care of himself as best as he can. ^_^

🍁. . . i say “sick looking” because generally speaking he’s very pale. his eye bags are bad. it’s makes ppl worry if he’s taking care of himself or not lol…. i’m not even going to sugar coat it. tired 24/7. relying on caffeine almost daily.

🍁. . . his eyes are prone to be red looking because he’s with the creeps that has pretty bad insomnia.

🍁. . . has BEAUTIFUL gorgeous olive green eyes. there so so.. pretty . honestly they almost look like emeralds ( okok it’s not that shiny.. but yk what i mean lol) . his hair is reddish brown .. it’s so soft and well taken care of . and by that, he cuts it often because he has bangs and he hates it when he can’t see. very handsome boy!

🍁. . . has ear piercings. stretched lobes. and the rest of his lobes done. too scared to get anything done above that.

🍁. . . he’s really really self conscious about the scars and stitches that practically littered all of over his face and body but honestly if your asking me that’s what makes him unique.

🍁. . . Liu’s the most normal wait no.. actually he’s the closest you’ll get to normal person. he’s living with a bunch of serial k*llers , he’s able to some how keep himself sane with all the bullshit he see’s and deal with every day in the mansion . ( and by that it’s dealing with his younger brother…)

literally a complete 360 of his brother tbhhh. ☠️

🍁. . . personality wise he’s quiet, well mannered , and uses big words when he talks. (i would describe his voice to be soft spoken and polite , he speaks in a velvety , smooth , and gentle tone. )

🍁. . . furthermore, he’s protective, caring, and overall he’s part of the small percentage of creeps that is friendly and respectful to new comers and residents of the mansion . older brother vibes yk? lots of creeps are fond of him because he has this warm and safe front to him .

🍁. . . he may be calm and collected. but that doesn’t mean he could see you right through your bullshit. he can read someone wants to do mischief to him easily . is capable putting you in your place or will let sully front .

🍁. . . downside to him being , he’s very paranoid. everyone around him. especially around jeff. he knows jeff is his brother and should leave the past behind. but how can he. when jeff is around , he can’t help but be super cautious and up guard around him. somewhat turns back into his 13 y.o self when the ..incident… happened.

🍁. . . under that calm face of his.. he’s fucking terrified what his brother is going to do next. his head spirals around if jeff will attack him again. can’t help but keep his mend hand on his g*n that’s underneath his trench coat because he.. so scared.

🍁. . . can’t be the same room with jeff. he’s immediately in flight or fight mode. he leaves the room immediately. his presence makes him so uncomfortable and feels like he’s suffocating around him.

🍁. . . huge dependency issues. secretly wants or desires to be with someone (doesn’t matter if it’s platonic or romantic) that he can trust , or just honestly wants anyone that will give him the feeling of safety and comfort again. will do drop anything for that to happen. yet the person he trusted the most tried to m*rder him.. developed awful trust issues after what happened with jeff.

🍁. . . Liu’s been dealing with a lot mental package half his life. grieves so much about his parents death. visit his parents grave from time to time. gives them flowers and remembers the memories they had together.

🍁. . . it’s not only D.I.D that liu suffers with but i believe he also has bipolar disorder and ptsd.

🍁. . . typically wears his thick black trench coat, that black and white scarf ( that he never washes ..😔 * sighs* oh liu… ) , under that he wears a black shirt. as well as black pants and combat boots. all though from time to time he wears dark academia clothing.

🍁. . . smells like cigarettes, the woods , or baked goods .

🍁. . . loves coffee. loves tea . biggg caffeine lover actually dependents on it to stay up for the day .

🍁. . . smokes whenever he’s needs too. honestly after the shit he’s been.. yeah i don’t blame him.

🍁. . . hangs out freely in public. literally the government knows that he’s dead because he has a grave and stuff but that doesn’t stop him from visiting small local libraries or towns.

🍁. . . goes to church pretty often but not to just pray . holding a broken rosary in his hand , and just sits seats there.. just thinking and …. thinking majority of the time . pure silence alone with thoughts.

🍁. . . thinks about the past quite a lot and especially if he saw or comes across something from him and jeff’s childhood, immediate waves of nostalgia washes over him . sadden of the fact things can’t be how they used to be .

🍁. . . he’s probably really good at baking. not cooking though. just baking . like will make someone a really good sour bread , muffins , or just give leftovers he couldn’t finish to creeps to closes with.

Now let’s talk about sully. . .

♦️. . . we all know liu suffers with D.I.D ( Dissosiative Identity Disorder) which means a person has two or more distinct identities that control their behavior at different times. And in this case it’s sully.

♦️. . . his alter mainly consists of being only sully i believe ( i think there’s one more but idk if that’s canon or not …) . now sully didn’t develop when he was born. actually developed with jeff attack him that night. and has been with him ever since then.

♦️. . . sully communicates with liu in his mental headspace if that makes sense. particularly sully will talk out loud to liu in his head.

♦️. . . if sully fronts then he talk to liu as if he’s standing right front of him. but if liu is fronting then he’s much better at keeping sully comments to himself. but will talk to each when left alone though.

♦️. . . liu doesn’t kill but he’s capable of doing it (more info about that later …) . most of the time its sully who does most of the m*rder. after the crime scene is finished and liu fronts again , feels extreme guilt of that the person who is now dead.

♦️. . . after jeff’s attack, he was in the hospital for a while and that how he came into terms with sully.

♦️. . . sully is very different compared to liu. mentally , and metaphorically speaking.

♦️. . . when sully fronts, his eyes changes from liu’s greens ones to reddish pink. his eyes could be read as frantic and almost angry looking. sully voice is more throaty and low. he’s more cocky , loud , impatient , rude and fussy. he’s prone to curse like sailor no matter the situation.

♦️. . . sully in the other hand , is the least dependent on people . he prefers gets things done by himself . not willing to trust others because he believes they will betray him in a matter of days. normally he’s comes out as aggressive to scare ppl away.

♦️. . . sully doesn’t kill people willy nilly. will front when he has strong urge too. especially when liu’s in danger because he wants protect him. or he decides liu is being “too soft” for his liking then fronts to tells him “ this is how a real man should do or act” ..

♦️. . . almost like a protective guard alter you could say …

‼️ approaching heavier topics … mostly talking about his past . ( tw m*rder and g*re ) .

🍁. . . liu was really protective of jeff growing up and till to this day blame himself how jeff came to be. when he’s bed sometimes he cries to himself and tells himself that failed being a big brother…

🍁. . . when they were little , he tried tend off the bullies before they pulled out knifes and jeff needed to go to the hospital immediate medical care. he spoke up about jeff’s face not looking to bad when he woke up from surgery and after that the family went quiet for a while .

🍁. . . was jeff’s only “ friend “ when they all moved to the new neighborhood.

🍁. . . one night in particular, after jeff gutted there parents. he snuck into liu’s room and attempted to give the same faith of there parents. liu fight back and chocked his brother with now a broken rosary. still has the rosary till this day.

🍁. . . jeff being stronger than liu, he gave liu pretty severe injuries. when jeff thought liu “died” he abandoned him and his whereabouts are unknown after that . likely slender found him and decided to take him in…

🍁. . . one of there neighbors heard screaming coming from there home. went the wood’s house to investigate. come to find liu bleeding out on the floor with severe injuries, horrified what they saw they called the ambulance .

🍁. . . liu almost died at the hospital but he some how pulled through with numerous surgeries done to him. it’s miracle he survived .

🍁. . . a nurse that was taking care of him called his brother a monster and that’s when he snapped and ended her life by pushing her off the hospital’s window . yk how i said he k*lled before , that was liu’s first victim.

🍁. . . after that event and realized what he’ve done in a pit of rage , not wanting to face consequences he ran away from the hospital and made his way to his families house and got a few things he needed .

🍁. . . attempted to burn the house and the rest of the belongings. he left the building, noticing the blood on his hands he didn’t turn back and his whereabouts were unknown. you can guess who took him .

🍁. . . after the events that occurred, liu still cares deeply about his younger brother and forgave him in the end because he’s experienced first hand the will to kill.

🍁. . . Liu's killings may also be influenced by Sully, a sociopath/psychopathic personality alter he developed after the night Jeff tried to kill him to cope with the traumatic events.

🍁. . . when slander made him his proxy perhaps out of pity.. he now lives in the mansion . jeff couldn’t believe it. thinks liu’s is just an illusion or just slender taunting him . nevertheless refuses to be close to liu thinking he’s not real. after a long time, reality sets in and realizes liu’s is in fact is here with him .

🍁. . . all jeff could think about is liu suppose to dead because after what he’s done to him, he shouldn’t survive. he has grave for god’s sake.

🍁. . . numerous times liu has tried to connect with his brother just like the good old times . Whether it's passing by him trying to start a decent conversation or when he's partnered with him on missions,tries teaming up with jeff to end the job faster.

🍁. . . there’s a parts of him is thinking, the younger brother he knows is still there and they can come back where things used to be but there’s a bigger part of him knowing jeff’s to far gone and hates him.

🍁. . . jeff being jeff shuts down by either completely ignoring him, mumbling something under his breath and shoving him to a wall abruptly . or being rudely abrasive. will start getting a little physical and blood is sometimes involved. quick trips to ej’s is greatly needed ...

🍁. . . still him and jeff still have a really strained relationship. if they have missions together long story short, they both will only get the job done without much communication. other than that they ignore each other.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅✧⋄⋆⋅

🍁. . . i have a feeling jeff is really jealous by liu growing up but won’t admit it of course. i mean his brother has perfect grades, had friends , knew his parents preferred liu over him. ( liu has tried telling jeff that they love him but jeff wouldn’t budge. can read his parents actions pretty well and it’s obvious what sibling they favor the most.) it started with small grudges then quickly developed into deep seated resentment.

🍁. . . i saw this post the other day and IT REALLYYY speaks to me how much this represents there dynamic. there literally estranged siblings guys . there relationship is so broken down and as a resulted they don’t not communicating or avoiding each other.

🍁. . . once in a blue moon though, jeff will give a liu a hug. it shocks liu so much. he questions if this is really jeff or he’s pulling something again to get under his skin. jeff very faintly mumbles a apology. then in a second starts acting it never happened.

🍁. . . creeps can tell who’s the older and younger sibling at a first glance lol. like yes, physically it shows but there personalities are so different is really hard to ignore .

🍁. . . he’s LOVVVES writing poetry. if your his friend or there’s a creep that he considers to be a friend he will leave out little post it notes around their room to find.

🍁. . . he’s has many acquaintances of the residence living in the mansion. doesn’t believe in making rivalry or tense bonds. i’d say he’s close friends with helen ( okok hear me out but they had a little situationship b4 in the past but they end it in good terms and there good friends… helen can’t get over him lolololll, a bit obsessed i dare say) ej , nina , and kagekao .

🍁. . . younger creeps consider liu as a older brother figure. when he found out about that he made it his duty to give them best old brother experience he can provide .

🍁. . . his favorite seasons have to be fall and winter because those were the times where life was simple and fun. loves it when it rains, takes out his piles of books and reads while sitting on his bed . with his choice of beverage ofc.

🍁. . . gets really jealous almost envy whenever he’s out in public and see families getting along. the the whole day it sours his mood and the memories starts to flood back.

🍁. . . walks around the forest quite often ( especially after it rains, he likes the smell of rain so much for some reason..) and meets different strays along the way and pets all of them.

🍁. . . another creep that’s loves cats!! his favorites have to be rag doll’s , maine coon’s , siamese and balinese.

🍁. . . strikes me the type where he remembers bits of pieces of his close friends telling him stuff . he has shit memories but he’ll remember almost everything about them. like there coffee order, favorite book, list goes on . . .

🍁. . . hole in the wall cafes + liu. it’s a dream come true honestly . he quite literally visits this one cafe that he know the route by heart , and orders the same thing. it’s london fog and a slice of pound cake :3. the owner’s first language isn’t english but calls liu love all the time because liu reminds them of there son. makes liu tear up inside.

🍁. . . even though he literally in his late twenties, he gets really attached to much more older flocks that looks his parents .

🍁. . . when they call him nicknames out of acts of endearment and treat him as if it’s there own son it’s makes him mushy because he lost his parent pretty young and now there’s a hole in his heart that needs parental support and love in a way.

🍁. . . keeps photos of his family. and not to mention toys and other nik naks that him and jeff used to play with together hidden in a little compartment in his room.

🍁. . . liu’s a mama’s boy change my mind y’all. ever since he was little he always sticks with his mother all the time before .

🍁. . . both sully and liu have terrible sleeping habits. it’s save to assume they suffer with insomnia. liu especially because after the incident he has night terrors that wakes him from a cold sweat .

🍁. . . vaguely remembers jeff often comforted him after night terrors when they were younger. He has fond memories of heating warm milk together and watching t.v late at night, curled up on the living room couch.

🍁. . .things can’t turn back the way it used to be . liu can’t sleep keep due to constant late night disturbances so he make himself a cup of tea for the night. he misses so much of jeff’s care for him because it actually helped him sleep. sometimes rewatches the cartoons him and jeff used to watch together .

🍁. . . he loves reading. he owns like two BIG book cases that’s placed furtherest corners of his room filled hundreds of books. and in the middle of them owns a desk, a office chair , and a lamp. that’s where he actually writes poetry on.

🍁. . . close friends with helen and often volunteer’s being helen’s muse for the day if no one want too . while helen paints him , they have nice convo about anything.

🍁. . . he’s super good listener hands down. will listen to you vent about anything. doesn’t matter how stupid the topic is, he’s there for you. if your upset and starting to tear up he get you a tissue and help you clean up your tears. makes you a cup of whatever you want as well. won’t judge you at all.

🍁. . . has multiple accounts on the phones… he sully “collected” and has many playlist that listens to daily while hanging out on his bed. he’s giving bôa , cults , TV girl , the cardigans , strawberry guy and mac demarco . definitely not from my playlist…🤫

🍁. . . some of the residents living in the mansion are children and they love hanging out with liu . makes me him either play pretend tea parties , drawing and dragging helen when they want art lessons , watching a movie. they just love liu so much.

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜: @/bloodibambiidoll & @/omi-resources.

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : another underrated pasta i love dearly!!! he’s literally my roman empire and helen too lol 😖. same with the woods brothers i talk about them for ages. i hope you enjoy my hc’s anon! thx for the ask and checking out my blog too.

next hc’s will be the rest of the marble hornets crew, keep an eye out!

if you like my content please don’t forget to like , reblog , and comment ^^.

liuuboo2025 ♡ﾟ

[just-jordie-things]

[part two] we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 11k warnings: swearing, drinking (but it’s legal!), mentions of masturbating summary: two idiots that are bad at confrontation and don’t want things to be awkward somehow make things awkward anyways. more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommates!au, childhood friends, n*oya makes an appearance in this part, soft yuuta taking care of drunk reader

part two: “i’m not ready, eyes heavy now” ___

[mai] : do you want me to come kidnap you? just say we have plans

[maki] : you don’t need to kidnap her.  she’s a big girl.  She can handle talking about her feelings.  can’t you, (y/n)?

[(y/n)] : no i don’t think i can :’( pls come rescue me, idk what to do.

[mai] : maki where are the keys i’m going over there

[maki] : the fuck you are, stay away from my car.

[maki] : i say this with love, (y/n).  get out of bed and just talk to him.  it’s not like you boned.  A little kissing never hurt anyone.  your friendship is stronger than that, don’t you think? 

[(y/n)] : …it was a lot of kissing…

[mai] : did he get a boner? 

[maki] : you’ve been friends a long time.  and he kissed you back, didn’t he? he probably enjoyed it.

[(y/n)] : i think he enjoyed it… idk… i’m rlly embarrassed about it.

[mai] : if he got a boner he enjoyed it.

[maki] : ur being gross :p

[(y/n)] : but what if he just got carried away and it didn’t mean anything and he’s upset with me? 

[maki] : did he say he was upset with you? 

[(y/n)] : … no.

[mai] : he’s probs pent up now.  you should seduce him again.

[maki] : then all this talk is pointless.  go TALK to him and then if it’s bad we’ll come swoop you up and take you out for the day.  deal? 

[(y/n)] : bed is comfy… and safe…

[mai] : and if we don’t hear from u we’ll assume u seduced him again

[maki] : you got this :)

(y/n) sighed as she turned off her phone, dropping it onto her mattress as she glared up at her ceiling.  The light from the sun had long since poured in through the window, having woken her up hours ago.  She wasn’t surprised to see so many texts in her groupchat with the Zen’in twins after Toge blabbed about what he thought he saw when he returned to the apartment late last night.

Normally she would’ve ignored their pestering and turned down any assumptions they may have made.  But she needed advice from her closest friends on what to do now.  She had yet to leave the safety of her bedroom, knowing Yuuta would be awake and going about his morning routine.  Maybe it was silly to be afraid of running into him, but her shame kept her shackled to the bed.

Maki was right, it wasn’t fair to assume how Yuuta would behave today.  It was a discredit to the years of friendship under their belts.  But then again, making out in a sudden moment of weakness was a blunder on their friendship, too.

Dramatically, she rolled over, planting her face in her pillow and groaning out her frustrations.

When she finally made an appearance, Yuuta’s head shot up from the kitchen table where he’d set up his things to spend the day working on an essay he should’ve started yesterday.  Just like yesterday, his focus shifted completely as soon as her door creaked open and she stepped out.

Her eyes widened a bit when they landed on him, as if she was surprised to see him there at all.  He gave her a small smile, hoping to ease any nerves she likely had coming into the morning.

“Mornin’,” He hummed, his gaze fixed on her as she lingered in her doorway, seemingly unsure about leaving her room at all.  “Made a pot of coffee if you need some” 

Yes, caffeine, her body pleaded, and she nodded at him gratefully as she made her way to the kitchen.  Even as she grabbed her usual mug out of the cupboard and poured a generous amount of coffee into it, she could feel his eyes on her back.

He watches as she shuffles about the kitchen, pouring in her cream and sugar before testing the drink, then repeating the cream and sugar.  He smiles to himself as this happens a few more times.  She’s not happy with it until it’s color is milky brown, and it surely no longer tastes like coffee at all.

“Thank you” She hums when she takes a longer drink, smiling as it finally tastes perfect.

She turns to him, leaning against the counter and holding her mug carefully in both hands.  He gives her a nod, his eyes flickering over her, as though looking for any sign of discontent.  He finds none.

“Yeah,” He replies quietly.  “You sleep alright?” 

(y/n) nods back.  “You?” 

He shrugs a shoulder, his head moving from side to side with lack of a real answer.  Her lips pull into an awkward frown, not knowing what to say now.

She hates that she finds it so hard to speak to him.  It had never been like this between them before.  They’d never tiptoed around each other, conversation always came naturally.  And when they were quiet, the silence was comfortable.

The silence now feels so heavy that her chest aches.

She hates that she’s the reason for the nervous energy buzzing in the air, making her skin prick with goosebumps and her heart beat erratically.

“I, uh, I think I’m gonna go out with the twins later” She forces herself to speak, saying the first thing that comes to mind.  Even though she hadn’t explicitly made plans with the Zen’ins, she was sure they’d do her this favor.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, sounding less convincing by the second.  “Probably for drinks, I could really use a drink” She mumbles the last part.

Yuuta chuckles, his smile cracking a little further as his eyes catch the clock on the oven behind her, before looking at her again.

“Not even ten in the mornin’,” He tells her, tilting his head.  “Already need to forget today?”

Her face flushes and she tilts her head to stare down at her cup of coffee.

“That’s alright,” Yuuta brushes off her nervousness as best he could.  He just wanted her to be at ease, even if that meant pretending nothing happened between them.  “I’ve got an essay to keep me company today anyways,” He says, nodding to the scattered textbooks and notebooks before him.  “But you’ll let me know if you need a ride, or anything?”

She nods back at him, the smile on her face a little more genuine this time.

“Yeah, I will” She says, and finally makes her way out of the kitchen.

She goes to greet their fish good morning, cooing softly to the thing as it swims about it’s tank excitedly.  She gives into it’s begging, sprinkling in the smallest amount of fish flakes as she could, and cheering quietly as he strikes at the little clump of food at the surface of the water.  Yuuta tries not to stare as she murmurs and coos to the fish as though it were any other pet, a kitten, or a hamster.  But he can’t help the lurch in his heart watching her sweet talk the betta that only had the capacity to care about being hungry.  The scene truly was a testament to her character.

She finished her coffee and went about her normal routine without much else to say to him.  Yuuta tried not to mind.  He tried to focus on his essay and give her space to settle back into what felt normal.  He just hoped she’d relax sooner than later.  He’d hate to have her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

Shortly after she’d gotten in the shower, he lost focus on his project again and reached for his phone.

[yuuta] : i feel like a total fucking idiot.  i think i messed everything up.

[toge] : looked like u guys enjoyed urselves to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[yuuta] : so not what i meant. [yuuta] : she can barely talk to me.  she only just got out of bed.  she seemed so uncomfortable.

[toge] : did she seem mad? maybe she just didn’t know what to say.  it is kinda awkward

[yuuta] : i don’t think she’s mad.  I think she just regrets it

[toge] : did u bring it up?

[yuuta] : no, i don’t know how

[toge] : well did u try ‘hey we made out and i liked it, what are we?’

[yuuta] : ._.

[toge] : ok taking that as a no. [toge] : but starting w that is prlly a good idea

[yuuta] : but what if that makes it worse [yuuta] : what if she doesn’t want anything more and it was just like a one time thing yk [yuuta] : we both had a bit to drink. [yuuta] : i think i’m going to have a panic attack.

[toge] : ok slow down for a sec [toge] : you’re jumping to conclusions, remember? you can’t decide what she’s thinking bcuz you haven’t talked about it. [toge] : rn what you have control over is what you want to do about it.  So for now, just try to focus on that. [toge] : and ur essay for econ.  actually you should put most of your focus on that.

[yuuta] : ok ur right.  i’m gonna work on that now. [yuuta] : thank you.  I’ll talk to you about it later.

[toge] : :) ___

Yuuta had never felt the menacing glare of the Zen’in twins fixed on him before.  When he opens the door to find them in the hallway, clearly perturbed to be greeted by him rather than the girl they were here to escort for the evening, he felt a cold sweat form on the back of his neck.

“Hey guys-” 

“Where’s (y/n)?” Maki pushed in first, side stepping Yuuta completely and bee-lining for (y/n’s) bedroom door, which had been shut since she’d been getting ready to go out with them.

Mai gave him a sympathetic smile, and he stepped aside to let her in.

“She’s a bit on edge, don’t worry about her,” She explained her sister’s antics, something she’d grown used to doing.  “But how are you doing?” 

The simple question didn’t hold it’s usual casual tone.  Mai looked genuinely curious to know his answer.  In fact, it looked like she was taking pity on him as her brows drew together in concern.

“Uh- fine.  I’m fine,” Yuuta stammered over his answer, and quickly made his way towards the kitchen, looking for something to busy himself with.  Getting interrogated by Maki and Mai was the last thing his nerves needed right now.

Even if Maki had already barged into (y/n’s) room and shut the door behind her with a slam.  He’d perked up at the ruckus, watching the door worriedly, but it remained shut, and he didn’t hear hollering from inside, so he figured all was fine between the two, and Maki was just up to her usual untamed behavior.  Mai chuckled to herself.

“Did you want a glass of water? Or something?” Yuuta asked, already filling a cup at the sink.

“Oh no, I’m alright,” Mai shook her head and took a seat at the kitchen table.  Her eyes scan over the messy stacks of books and the long extension cord that reaches across the whole room to keep his laptop alive while he works.  “You’ve been busy, hm?”

Yuuta chokes, whirling around, not realizing she’d been commenting on his mess at the table.  He instantly flushes, especially when Mai raises a brow and her lips curl into a smirk at his reaction.

“Oh- that- yeah,” He coughs to clear the hitch in his throat, hitting his fist to his chest a few times for good measure.  “I have an essay that’s due in a week” He explains quietly, certain that she didn’t actually care what he was working on.

Mai only nods, changing the subject before he could bore her with the specifics of the assignment.

“So, what’re your thoughts on the whole thing?” 

Yuuta blinks, unsure of what she was really asking.  Mai tilts her head at him, knowing he was a smart enough guy that he could figure it out on his own.

“I don’t know…” He sighs, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck.  “I don’t know what the right thing to do is…” 

Mai giggles cutely behind her fingers, as if she’d been watching two kittens playing with a ball of yarn, rather than watch a grown man struggle with the feelings he’d carried for years.  Feelings so strong everyone around him knew damn well where his heart lied.  It was a cruel laugh, but she couldn’t help it.  Yuuta could be so pitifully hilarious sometimes.

“Sorry,” Her apology is empty when he furrows his brow at her.  “It’s just… I owe Toge money for this, you know,” 

Yuuta’s gawking now, frozen and silent as he waits for further explanation.  Had everyone been in on something he hadn’t known about? Was this all some elaborate prank on him?

“I always thought you’d make the first move.  Guess Toge knew best this time” 

“Wait, you actually bet on- he bet against me?” Yuuta stammered.  Mai smiled sweetly.

“Everyone bet against you,” She told him.  “Well, everyone but me,” She corrected right away.  “Personally, I thought it’d be a whole love confession thing, you know? Like in the movies? I always thought you were the kind of guy that just wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore.  After last night I was sure that if (y/n/n) had a little push it’d be enough for you to do something.  But it sounds like she initiated, no?” 

Yuuta’s head was spinning taking in all of this information at once.  Everyone knew? His closest friends, and they bet against him? His face felt hot with embarrassment, and just when he thought this whole thing couldn’t get worse, too.  Damn them all for being such a close knit group of friends that nothing was private anymore.

“I… I guess…” He answered the question quietly, unsurely.  Truthfully Yuuta wasn’t sure who exactly was at fault for the situation.  (y/n) might have brought up the subject, but he was the one who kissed first, wasn’t he? “So… she told you all of it?” He asked.

Mai smirked.

“Sorry, can’t break the girl code,” She says innocently.  Yuuta rolls his eyes.  Bullshit.  She just wanted to yank his chain.  “But you’re my friend too,” She reminds him.  “So I was just curious what you thought about all this” 

Their banter was cut short by (y/n’s) door swinging open, Maki’s voice carrying out into the hall as she exited, nodding for her sister to get up to head out.

(y/n) followed shortly after, a pair of heels in one hand, her other hand occupied trying to secure a bracelet on her wrist.  With her focus on awkwardly trying to maneuver the clasp with one free hand, Yuuta was given enough time to stare at her properly.

She’d spent a lot of time holed up in her room, supposedly getting ready, and now he could see just the amount of effort she’d put into doing so.  Her hair was done up, styled in perfect soft waves that bounced when she moved, and fell around her shoulders.  A simple but pretty dress hung from tiny straps at her shoulders and fell just above her knees.  It was her favorite color and one that complimented her very well.  Yuuta had been there when she’d found it and claimed it was an ‘impulse buy’, but she’d loved it thoroughly and had worn it regularly.  He stared in awe while she struggled with the jewelry and cursed under her breath.

It took him a minute to come back to reality, blinking quickly as if he needed to refocus, before approaching her with an outstretched hand and a small smile.  She understood what he was offering from the small action.  It wasn’t the first time she’d struggled to put on her own jewelry, and she’d often turned to him for help with the dainty clasps.

Sheepishly, (y/n) placed the charm bracelet in the palm of his hand, before holding her wrist out to him.  With how close she is he can smell the flowery perfume she’d just applied before coming out of her room.  It was sweet and pretty and he swore it flooded his senses like THC, lifting him right off the floor and into the clouds.

“Thank you” She murmurs.

She watches as he carefully lifts the jewelry from both ends, securing the claw clasp between his thumb and index finger gently.  A smile lifted at the corners of his lips as the little charms dangled off the silver chain, and he recognized the bracelet.

It was a gift from him.  For the first birthday she’d celebrated since moving in together.  It wasn’t the most extravagant thing, there were no jewels, the chain was made of silver rather than rose gold or something more expensive and romantic.  The charms were a mismatched set of stars and moons, some varying in color, but most of them the same silver as the chain they dangled from.  When he’d come across it, Yuuta thought he’d struck gold.  It had been the perfect gift.  He’d seen it in the window at a jewelry store he’d never looked at twice before, but somehow this little bracelet called to him and he was waltzing right inside and purchasing it at the counter not five minutes later.  

The clerk placed it in a little velvet box, which Yuuta took home and carefully wrapped a silky white ribbon around.  It had taken some practice to tie the bow just right, but he’d been very proud of his craftsmanship.  In the days leading up to her birthday, he was sure he was going to ruin the surprise, he was so giddy with excitement.

Then when the day came, and they were all out with their friends for dinner, he was a wreck.  Everyone else’s gifts were so different from his.  Maki had given her a nice leather jacket, Mai had given her a handle of her favorite rum, and Toge had given her a new game for their switch.  When all that was left was the small gift bag holding Yuuta’s gift, he was chugging his drink as she reached into it with a grin.

The table went silent when she pulled out a tell-tale velvet box, a perfect silk bow tied around it.  Yuuta avoided her gaze when her wide eyes turned to him.  He’d missed the way her cheeks had warmed up, too embarrassed by the stares from the rest of their friends.  ‘Jewelry?’ she’d asked sweetly, before carefully untying the ribbon and propping open the box.  She’d gasped, setting the box down carefully before lifting the bracelet from it, admiring each mismatched charm dangling from it.

Her eyes lit up as she turned to him, holding it out for him with one hand, the other wrist on display as she bounced in her seat, prompting him to put it on her.  That was the first of many times Yuuta had clasped the gift carefully around her wrist.  Conversation between the twins and Toge picked up again as the pair shared a sweet, private moment.  Yuuta wasn’t sure why it was so intimate to do such a simple favor for his friend, but his skin burned where it grazed hers as he adjusted the new jewelry for her.

‘It’s beautiful,’ She’d whispered softly, her eyes fond as they gazed into his.  ‘I love it so much, thank you, Yuuta’.

As he hooked the claw through the usual hoop she always wore it at, the perfect length to keep it secure on her wrist but still let the little stars loosely dangle, Yuuta couldn’t help but think about that first time he’d put it on for her.

“There,” He hummed when it hung perfectly around her wrist.  “You’re all set now” 

His eyes lingered on the bracelet and it’s meaning that he’d never quite worked up the courage to tell her about, before flickering to meet her soft expression.  There was something in her eyes that told him she was trying to say something, but she didn’t budge on it.  Her lips curved into a small smile as she nodded at him in gratitude.

“So we’re ready?” Maki cleared her throat, drawing both of their attention over to where she had her arms crossed and a brow raised.  

(y/n) was quick to shuffle away from Yuuta, sliding on her heels and making sure the straps were adjusted just right at her ankles before giving Maki a wide smile.

“Ready!” 

She leaves with a wave and a sweet call of good luck on finishing his essay.  Yuuta lingers at the door, even long after the three have left for the night.  The creeping feeling that he’s an idiot plaguing his mind again.

It wasn’t like he could tell her not to go, that wasn’t fair.  It also didn’t seem right to tag along, he wasn’t a total moron after all, he knew that she needed some space tonight with her girlfriends to collect herself and get over what happened between them.

But god, he just hoped she wasn’t going to get over it by finding someone else to distract her from it. ___

Rather than go to the usual bar that the group would spend free evenings at, Maki and Mai had promised an all new experience for the night.  Mai talked up the place animatedly, all bright eyes and movements of her perfectly manicured hands, while Maki drove and chastised her sister for being such an annoying passenger.

The longer (y/n) spent around them, the more her nerves began to settle and she finally gave in to the excitement of going out for the night.  It had been a while since they’d done something just the three of them.  Girl time was hard to come by, and often only happened in their groupchat.  Toge and Yuuta had a way of wiggling into their plans, not that they really complained about it.  It was nice to have a close and comfortable group of friends.

But right now, (y/n) needed two things.  One, time with her favorite twins that always scored free drinks wherever they went.  And two, the free drinks that the pair were currently scoring as they chatted up the bartender.  

(y/n) watched in amusement as Maki slid her glasses onto the top of her head pulling her hair away from her pretty face, and Mai leaned over the bar on her elbows, her low cut top doing all the work for her even while she undoubtedly flirted with the tattooed man behind the bar.  The high top table (y/n) sat at with all of their purses- it wasn’t like the Zen’ins needed their wallets- was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the conversation happening, but she recognized the sweet, alluring smile on Mai’s red painted lips.  It was a flirty look, and held absolutely no bite behind the bark.  It was just a well rehearsed dance, and she knew exactly how to use it to get what she wanted.

Admittedly, it had even worked on (y/n) a few times.  So she knew that no man was strong enough to withstand it’s power.

Sure enough, the girls were already headed back to the table with three drinks between them, and proud grins on their faces as they snickered between themselves.

“Did a phone number come with these?” (y/n) teased as Maki handed her the extra cocktail.  She thanked her with a bright smile, admiring the swirls of color in the drink before she stirred it up.

“Sure did,” Mai says, flashing the napkin between her fingers, the scrawl of numbers in purple ink spread across one side.  “I think I might call this one too” She adds excitedly.

Maki and (y/n) share a laugh before the three of them raise their glasses, clinking them together gently.

A few drinks passed and (y/n) had almost forgotten why she’d even wanted to go out tonight.  It was so nice to hang out with the Zen’in twins.  There was always plenty to gossip about, and especially in a setting like this one, there was only more fuel for their fire.

While Mai went back to order their fourth round, and flirt with the bartender some more, Maki dragged (y/n) out to the dance floor.  She knew her well enough to know that three drinks was just the right amount to loosen her up and get her out there without much protest.  And just as she thought, (y/n) eagerly followed, hips already swaying to the familiar beat.

“You feelin’ better?” Maki asked, leaning in close enough so she didn’t have to yell as much over the music.  Close enough that (y/n) could smell the familiar perfume she’d been wearing since they were in high school.

“I am,” She beamed up at her friend while they danced.  “Thank you for taking me out, this is just what I needed” 

Maki smiled back at her, relieved to have helped.  Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew that this distraction was necessary to clear her mind.

(y/n) and Yuuta had been dancing the dance of friends that hadn’t realized they were infatuated with each other for so long that Maki genuinely couldn’t remember a time when their romantic tension wasn’t all consuming.  When they’d decided to move in together, she’d known it was only a matter of time before something changed between them.  They all knew, hence the bet with Mai and Toge, that living in close quarters would create a rift at some point.

It sounded like that rift was more of a dive head first into unexplored territory, and (y/n’s) panic text last night that only read ‘s.o.s yuuta and i almost hooked up and i think i’m gonna have a panic attack’ was far more than anything she could expected to happen, but it was amusing nonetheless.

And Maki loved her friends.  She loved them so much she was happy to take her out for drinks and dancing in order to relieve some of the awkward tension at home.  But her friends were morons, and when this was resolved, she planned to never let them live it down.

Because there was no doubt in her mind that Yuuta loved (y/n) with every fiber of his being.  No doubt at all that (y/n) felt just the same for him.  She’d been following him around with stars in her eyes since they were children.  And Yuuta had never treated anyone the way he treated (y/n)- like she hung the moon and stars, like his entire world revolved around her.  

They could be in a crowded room with blasting music and hollering voices, and if (y/n) was speaking, Yuuta was listening to every word with his undivided attention.  Maki had seen it, on multiple occasions.

Six drinks and two free rounds of shots from the bartender that had a crush on Mai later, and Maki was struggling to herd her sister and her friend outside and towards the car.

It was very late into the night, and even for a Friday night Maki was ready to crash and get a full night of sleep.  She should have known to start the process of leaving an hour early, because since suggesting they square up their minimal tab and heading out, an hour is how long it had taken to get the two remotely close to the door.

Mai was insistent on staying until the place closes- which wasn’t for another three hours- but Maki refused to ditch her sister at a bar at one in the morning with a guy she just met.  Free drinks or not, that crossed girl and sister code for her.

(y/n) was a different story.  Three-drink (y/n) loosened up enough to dance a bit and mingle just a little.  Six-drink-and-two-shots (y/n) was making best friends out of everyone she ran into, whether they wanted to chat or not, she found a reason to hold their attention.  One girl had cute boots, some other guy was wearing a tee shirt of a band she’d heard of- not even liked, just heard of- and now she was off again talking to someone near the bathrooms.

“She said she was gonna pee!” Maki barked, and Mai lazily turned her attention towards where Maki was glaring.  “Come on, let’s go get her.  Again” 

Knowing better than to trust Mai to follow, Maki snatches her by the wrist and drags her across the bar with her.  Mai finds this amusing and a bit ridiculous, but doesn’t fight with her.

As they grow nearer and can see (y/n’s) animated talking, they also get a better look at who it was that had stolen her attention.

“Hey wait a sec,” Mai stops in her tracks, pulling her arm out of Maki’s grip only to grab her shoulder and maneuver her body until she could follow her exact line of sight.  “Is that…?” The name doesn’t come off her tongue, but it doesn’t need to.  Maki recognizes the man she’s speaking too instantly.

And she glowers, before speeding off towards the pair at a faster, more determined rate.  This time she knows Mai will be hot on her tail.

“Naoya!” 

(y/n) and the stranger she’d been talking to both perk up.  Recognition flashes in both of them as they see the Zen’in twins stampeding towards them.  (y/n) beams, delighted to see her friends.  The handsome stranger she’d been conversing with wears a smug look as he smirks at his cousins.

“We’re leaving,” Maki said, putting herself between (y/n) and her distant cousin, staring down at her friend with a grave expression.  “Let’s go-” 

“I didn’t pee” (y/n) pouts up at her, too out of it to notice the hostility between her friend and the man she’d just met.  Maki huffs, narrowing her eyes at her as though to ask ‘really?’.  (y/n) bats her eyes up at her.

“I was just keeping (y/n) here company while she waited,” Naoya speaks up.

The Zen’in twins both spun around to glare at him as he spoke.  If (y/n) hadn’t been inebriated she may have recognized the icy stares that she’d seen many people cower away from before.  Eerily enough when directed at him, he stared back at them with his chin tilted out and a smirk on his face.

“I’m happy to wait with her if you both have somewhere to be?” He suggested.

“As if” 

“Eat shit” 

Mai and Maki spoke in unison, both of their comments jarring (y/n), who was now shielded behind them like a small child.  Naoya lifted his hands in mock surrender, and took a step away from the wall.

He caught eyes with (y/n), confused, naive, drunk (y/n), who tilted her head as he waved goodbye to her.  She weakly raised a hand to return the gesture.  Maki glared between them both as she followed the interaction.

“You’ve got my number,” He grins, his eyes staying locked on hers even while Maki and Mai’s were so sharp he could almost feel them piercing his skin.  “If you change your mind on getting over that roommate” 

Mai’s jaw dropped open as she whirled around to (y/n), a look in her eyes that was somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.  Maki snarled at the man until he finally turned around and left.  It wasn’t until then that she ushered (y/n) into the bathroom, where there was no line to begin with, as it was completely empty inside.

The loud music and crowd at the bar muffled out once they were alone in there, and (y/n) was quick to scurry into a stall.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Maki cursed under her breath, while Mai pulled herself onto the counter of sinks, swinging her feet as she laughed to herself.  “If he tries to talk to her again, I’m punching him in the goddamn teeth” 

“That guy?” (y/n) called from the stall, only to go ignored by the sisters on the outside.

“Like when we were kids?” Mai mused, a smirk curling on her lips as she recalled the distant memory.

“No,” Maki shook her head, before a slow smirk of her own formed.  “That was his nose” 

They shared a laugh, even while (y/n) continued to ask who and what they were talking about.  Naoya was a face they’d hoped they’d never have to see again, but certainly had no issue breaking if it came to it.  And knowing him, things would likely come to that.  Since birth he’d been an asshole, it seemed.  Something about being a trust fund baby and a narcissistic manipulator seemed to bring out the worst in him.

(y/n) comes out of the stall with a childish frown as she drags her feet to the sink.

“We’re talking about Naoya,” Mai says, leaning back into the mirror to speak to (y/n) while she washes her hands.  “He’s our cousin” 

“That guy out there?” (y/n) mumbles, her brows furrowing as she focuses intently on soaping up her hands.  “He’s your cousin?” 

Mai nods.

“And he’s the fucking worst,” Maki pipes up with a bark in her tone that has (y/n’s) eyes snapping to her reflection in the mirror.  Sure enough, Maki was giving her a pointed glare.  “Stay away from him (y/n), he’s a piece of shit” 

With wide eyes and her lips pressed together, (y/n) nods back at her in a small movement.

She hadn’t spoken to him too much.  He’d approached her while she was lingering at the wall trying to get her texts to go through.  She vaguely recalled him saying something about a pretty girl being alone, but she hadn’t given him much of her attention, too drunk and annoyed with her phone for not working to care.

But one thing led to another and she was complaining to him about not getting in touch with her hot roommate that she’d made things complicated with, and after he showed her how to send the message as a text rather than an imessage, he’d prodded her into telling him more about this situation-ship as he’d called it, and next thing she knew, she was talking on and on about Yuuta.

And (y/n) may have been a bit drunk, but she wasn’t oblivious.  She caught the way he told her he’d help her get her mind off of things, she noticed the smirk on his lips and the darkness in his eyes as they swept her figure.  But she didn’t care about his intentions.  She just needed to vent, to an impartial- partially impartial- party that wouldn’t tell her what everyone else was telling her.

So honestly, (y/n) had no problem ignoring the new number in her contacts.  She wasn’t looking to hook up with Naoya.  But his company was appreciated while it lasted, even if he did only stick around her in the hopes of getting laid.

“She’s not interested in him like that,” Mai tells her sister, before her eyes flit over to (y/n) as she dries her hands.  “Are you?” 

(y/n) merely shakes her head, and tosses the paper towel in the bin.

“Thought so,” Mai smirked.  “You’re still hung up on Yuu-ta~” She singsongs his name with girlish charm, and Maki cracks a small laugh, relieved to know that she didn’t have to teach her asshole cousin a lesson to keep him away from her best friend.

“That much is obvious”

“Come on,” (y/n) sighs, pulling on Mai’s arm to get her off of the counter so they could finally leave the bar.  “Let’s go home so I can sleep this off and hopefully forget all of it” 

Mai slings her arm around her waist as they leave the bathroom, the noise of the busy place drowning out all else once more.  Even as the three of them push through the crowd, with Maki leading because her presence was strong enough to part a path in any crowd, (y/n’s) thoughts are messy.  It was probably all the drinks, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the situation she’d put herself in.

She feels Mai’s cheek on top of her head when they near the door, and Maki opens it for the two to go through first, then follow behind.  Sometimes (y/n) thinks her friendship with the twins had developed so much that she shares some of their special twin telepathy.  Because Mai squeezes her hip and nuzzles into her hair just as her thoughts begin to spiral the longer she thinks about going home.  Mai was always affectionate when she was drunk, and maybe she was riding on a high after her score with the sexy bartender, but (y/n) appreciated it nonetheless.  She even sat with her in the backseat of Maki’s car, falling half asleep on her while leaning up against one another.

“I’m so not carrying her if she passes out,” Maki half-chides as she glares at her barely conscious sister in the backseat.  “She can spend the night back there, I don’t care, I’m tired of carrying her ass around” 

(y/n) chuckles, and laughs a little louder as Mai stirs and mutters something along the lines of ‘m not fuckin’ tired back at her.

Somehow she doesn’t pass out on top of (y/n), although her weight is heavy against her, when Maki parks at (y/n’s) apartment complex, Mai sits right up and gets out of the car.  Her and (y/n) keep their arms wrapped around each other as they head inside.  Maki rolls her eyes and occasionally scolds them for being too slow, or stumbling around and bumping into things, but her voice is soft and her hands are gentle as she guides them to the door.

Just as (y/n) is slurring over her words trying- and failing- to explain that she doesn’t have her key, the door opens and Maki is pushing the two inside.

Mai disappears from (y/n’s) side almost instantly, suddenly craving a glass of water and one of the peaches on display in a porcelain bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Pretty much what you expected, yeah?” (y/n) hears Maki say, but she’s suddenly so tired that keeping her eyes open feels like a workout.  She doesn’t even have the energy to ask her what she’s talking about.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Someone replies.  A familiar voice that was deep but soft around the edges.  An instinctive smile forms on her lips.  “Thanks for driving, though.  And for… everything else” The voice grows quieter towards the end.

And then there’s a pair of hands on her shoulders, and (y/n) nearly collapses into the embrace.  She stumbles, catching her heel at an awkward angle and nearly sprains an ankle trying to correct her stance.  But the hands are faster, and stronger, and lift her by her hips before she could fall on the bent ankle or hurt herself at all.  She’s placed right back on the ground a moment later, but the hands remain.

“Yuuta~” She greets him once she finally realizes who it is that is keeping her upright.  It was an honest mistake, with her heavy eyes and alcohol flooded system, it was easy to confuse Yuuta’s strength for Maki’s.

Yuuta chuckles quietly at her delayed acknowledgement, his thumb caressing her hip in gentle circles.

“Let’s get you some water and into bed, hm?” He hums, tugging gently on her to get her to follow him.

(y/n) stumbles along without much hesitation at all.  She’s humming a tune that had been stuck in her head after she’d heard it at the bar, and Yuuta tries not to laugh at her inebriated state, but she does make it difficult.

When he opens the door to her bedroom, they realize why it had been shut.

Mai was face down in (y/n’s) pillows, passed out cold.  Her heels had been kicked off and unceremoniously thrown onto the rug, but that was as far as she got in settling in for bed.  She was still in her dress, all of her jewelry, and most definitely was staining (y/n’s) silky pillowcases with her makeup.

“Damn, that’s another pillowcase set she owes me” (y/n) mumbles with a huff, leaning defeatedly into her door frame.

“She’s done this before?” Yuuta’s brows furrow.

(y/n) looks over at him with a frustrated pout before nodding.  He winces, but their moment of shared exasperation is quickly clouded by how funny it was that such a thing had occurred twice and they hadn’t learned from it, and soon Yuuta was ushering them both out of the doorway and into the hall so they could let her sleep in peace.

“We’ll let her stay,” He says quietly, already guiding her to the other door.  His door, she realizes distantly.  “She clearly needs the rest, you can just stay in here, alright?”

He watches the delay in her realization as she turns to face him with a concerned look on her face.  Yuuta already knows what she’s going to say before the words form in her mouth.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He eases her into the room with a gentle hand on her lower back.  Her expression is still unsure, but her feet move on their own accord further into the room.  “Get somethin’ to wear out of the dresser,” Yuuta instructs, knocking his knuckle against the drawer he kept his sleepwear in.  “I’ll go let Maki know she can stay with Mai if she wants” 

(y/n) gives him a small nod before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.  

It felt odd being in his room, not because it was unfamiliar to her, she actually spent plenty of time lounging in his room with him, but it was odd being there without him.  Especially when she’d been asked to change, and into his clothes no less.  

Her movements were hesitant as she opened the drawer he’d pointed to.  The wood creaked out and put his clothes on their perfect, organized display.  She let out a small laugh through her nose at how crisp his tee shirts were folded, and similarly, the even rolls of sweatpants beside them.  It was almost ridiculous how perfect it all looked.  But she couldn’t be surprised.

It almost felt wrong to pluck out a tee shirt and pair of sweats and unfold them, but suddenly her wrinkled skirt and the straps that didn’t want to stay in place on her shoulders were enough of a bother for her to unzip the irritating material and let it drop to the floor.

Yuuta’s clothes smelled like him.  Which shouldn’t have been something that surprise her as much as it did, pausing as she tugged the tee shirt down, dipping her nose against the loose collar and inhaling the familiar scent of pine and the laundry detergent they shared, creating a fragrance that was so distinctly Yuuta she could recognize it in a second.

She tied the drawstrings of the sweatpants in a double knot to keep them from sliding back off her hips, and that was when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” She called quietly, aware of the sleeping girl in the next room over.  Although a tornado couldn’t stir Mai from the drunken slumber she was in.

Yuuta opened the door slowly, trying to keep it from creaking, before he entered the room.

He tried not to stare, he really did, but he couldn’t help but smile at the way his clothes blanketed her, and just how cute she looked in them.  It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’s worn his clothes, there had been plenty of times where he’d lent her his jacket, or a spare tee shirt in high school when she’d spilled milk on her blouse, and those times had felt special too, but now felt… significant.

Seeing her wrapped up in his pajamas in his room while getting ready to go to sleep in his bed, Yuuta’s grinning at her while her face is going pink with embarrassment.

“Maki went home,” He cleared his throat, trying to remember the conversation he’d just had before he walked in here and had his mind wiped of all logical thought.  “She said she’ll pick Mai up in the morning” 

“Alright then,” (y/n) nodded in understanding.  “Oh, and can I borrow a-” 

“Your shoes are still on,” 

Yuuta’s voice is soft as he cuts her off, vaguely pointing to where her strappy heels poked out under the pool of fluffy cotton at her feet.  She looks down as though confused by the statement, but sure enough she realizes she hadn’t taken them off when she’d dropped her dress and stepped into the sweats.

She giggles to herself and lifts a leg, the excess fabric of his pants hanging off her ankle so she could be sure her heels were in fact still on her feet.

“Here,” Yuuta reaches out, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed.  She follows, but just before she could lean over to undo the small buckles at her ankles, Yuuta was already kneeling to the ground before her.

(y/n’s) certain that her mistake from the night prior is the only reason that she feels a swell in her chest and an intimate tension settle in the air around them.  Because there’s no other reason she should feel her heart racing and her face going hot as he carefully unlatches the buckle of the left shoe and slides the strap out before pulling the shoe away and dropping it to the floor.  There’s no reason why she should feel butterflies fluttering around her tummy as he follows the same procedure for the right one.

But she does.  She feels her blush and the butterflies and the dryness in her throat as the tension sucks all of the oxygen right from her lungs.  And when he looks up at her with a sweet smile, surely happy to have helped, all of those feelings seem to be put under a magnifying glass.

“Better?” He asks with that damn smile.

Against her will, her mind wanders to how soft and warm that smile had felt when it was pressed against her mouth.  How firm and gentle and experienced his mouth felt when it kissed hers.  Her fingers dig into the plush comforter she sat on, trying to ground herself to reality, as far away from that memory as she could get.

She gives him a small nod.

“What did you want to borrow?” He asks as he stands, and her eyes follow his as he’s suddenly so easily towering over her.  She almost had no idea what he was talking about, and she’s quick to release her hold on the blanket.

“Right- um- could I borrow one of your blankets? Mai is on top of all of-” 

Yuuta’s chuckling makes her halt in her explanation, her brows barely pinching together in question at the reaction.

“You don’t need to sleep on the couch (y/n/n), you can stay in here, I already told you that,” 

She presses her lips together as she regards him, trying to find any source of discomfort or regret.  He seems to pick up on her evaluation, and he raises a brow as he chuckles at her.

The sound feels all too delighted, like he was amused by her hesitation.

“(y/n), it’s fine, you’re overthinking,” He tells her.  “I’ll get you a glass of water, m’kay? Just… get comfortable.  You’ve slept in here tons of times before” 

He leaves the room before she could say what they were both thinking.  Not like this.  She’d accidentally napped in here on a few occasions, waiting too long for him to be done studying, or when her bedding was in the wash and she had grown tired after a day of chores, she wasn’t a stranger to his bed.  But just as she wasn’t a stranger to his room, it still felt all too new right now.

Like if she moved too quickly she might break something intangible yet oh so fragile.

Nonetheless, she shuffles into the bed and under the covers, and her hazy mind begins to settle as soon as she rests her head on one of Yuuta’s feathery pillows.  She wonders if everything he surrounded himself with- his clothes, his blankets, his pillows- was comfortable because he valued comfort, or if it simply was because it was all his.  Because it was an extension of him.

But maybe she was still just a bit drunk and overthinking the fluffy warmth surrounding her.  Maybe he was right about that part.

She’d just been drifting off to sleep when the door opened again, and she peeks her eyes open as Yuuta brings a glass of water over to the bedside table she laid next to.

“Try to drink all that tonight, alright?” His voice is a hum, surrounded by softness, and comfort, and she’s reaching for that question in the back of her mind again, prodding at it until she’s a little less sleepy, her curiosity stirring her mind enough to keep it active.

“Alright,” She murmurs back, leaning up on her elbow as she reaches for the glass, delighted to see it was chilled with ice.  “Thank you” She adds before taking a few sips.  Her dry throat had gone unnoticed until the first touch of water to her tongue, and suddenly she’s drinking down half the glass.

The bed dips behind her as Yuuta settles in, sighing to himself quietly as he gets situated.  (y/n) quickly sets the glass back down, before turning over to face him.

In the dark room she vaguely makes out his silhouette, and she can’t tell if he’s looking at her or not, so maybe it’s what helped ease her nerves as she laid before him.

“Did you have a good night?” He breaks the silence first, but he keeps his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I guess so,” (y/n) mumbles back, her fingers finding a loose thread in his sheets.  “It was fun dancing with Maki and Mai…” She wraps the thread around the tip of her middle finger.

“You sound disappointed” Yuuta comments, hooking his arm under his pillow so he could get a slightly better read on her expression, but the shadows cast over her features are too dark for him to decipher.

But he can feel it when she shrugs one of her shoulders and hums in a way that sounds like I don’t know.

“It was alright, it was, I just…” She tries to explain it, but as she speaks the rest of the words just don’t come to mind.  It had been fine, it had been fun even, nothing wrong had happened, but it didn’t quite feel… “I think I just thought my tendency of drinking to forget was the right way to go, but I don’t think it worked, and I think I’m only going to feel worse,” 

It was word vomit through and through, an endless stream of thoughts flowing right out of her mouth before she could think twice about what she was saying or how it might make him feel.  But the cusp of the issue was right there and she was dying to understand the complicated knot of feelings swelling in her chest.

“I think I made a mistake,” She slows down as she says this, and Yuuta wishes she would’ve ripped off the bandaid, but at least she couldn’t see it when he frowned at her.  “But not- not for what you think, I don’t mean it… like that,” She stammers a bit as she tries to correct herself, the alcohol still in her system doing her no favors besides the minor boost in courage.  “But I… I don’t think I could handle it” She says in a small voice.

She’s quiet for a bit as she tightens the thread around her finger, barely able to make out the way it creases and dips into her skin.

“Well…” Yuuta sighs, struggling to find the right thing to say to her.  

What could he say? He could tell her the truth, unpack all of his feelings, his entire heart, right here, but at the end of the day wouldn’t that just make things more complicated? She wasn’t exactly sober, and if she didn’t feel remotely the same way then he dug himself a socially awkward grave that he’d just have to live in because damn it they split the rent.  He’s panicking, breaking into a cold sweat even under two blankets.

“It was just a kiss, yeah?” He repeats what she’d told him just last night.  But unlike the confident, smug way she’d phrased it, he sounds unsure, and maybe even frightened.

Her head moves, and he still can’t make out the direction of her gaze, but he can still feel her eyes on him.  He tries to focus his vision better, hoping to adjust to the darkness soon.

“If it was just a kiss I don’t think I would’ve felt compelled to go out and try to forget it happened,” (y/n) replies, her voice hushed, afraid of revealing too much.  “I’m just really sorry” 

Yuuta blinks a few times, as if that would help him figure out if he heard her right.

“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n),” He tells her, his voice taking on a more serious tone.  “You have nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t do anything wrong-” 

“I made things so weird and over- over some dumb advice from Maki- and I just can’t believe I managed to find a way to make our friendship weird because- because you mean a lot to me, you’re really my best friend, Yuuta” 

He can’t tell if his heart swells with love or bursts with the sting of rejection at the statement.

“You’re overthinking again,” He forces a light chuckle, before reaching out and gently wrapping his hand over hers.  “It’s not that weird, alright? Nothing could change… us… okay?” 

She doesn’t say anything, just sighs in disappointment while his thumb brushes over the back of her hand.

“You mean a lot to me too, you know that,” He tried to lighten the mood, but with barely seeing her face it was hard to tell how she was feeling.  “It was just a kiss, alright? Just a… really nice kiss” 

“A few really nice kisses,” She mutters under her breath, finally cracking a small laugh.  Yuuta beams back at her, unable to stop himself from giggling back at her.

It grows quiet between them after a few minutes, but this time it’s comfortable, and she feels her muscles untense as she sinks further into the mattress.

“I did complain about you, though” 

“Complain?” Yuuta pouted.  “To the Zen’ins? They’ll use that against me, you know” 

(y/n) giggles, knowing full well that if she’d told the twins one foul thing about Yuuta they’d grab him by the ankles and dangle him right off this apartment building until he apologized to her.  But she shakes her head at him.

“No, no not to them.  Some guy at the bar,” She explains.  “Their cousin, actually,” 

He racks his brain for a minute, trying to recall who this cousin is, but he can only think of Megumi, and everyone knew Megumi, so had she run into Megumi, she would’ve said so, wouldn’t she? But no, she said some guy.

“Got his number, too,” She adds, but she sounds defeated, like it wasn’t a victory to get a cute stranger’s number at a bar when she’d specifically gone out seeking a distraction.

Something odd twists in Yuuta’s gut.  The jealousy was distinct, but the pride in picking up on the fact that she hadn’t been interested in this mysterious Zen’in relative.

“Maki said he’s a dick, though,” She explained her lack of interest.  “But he was sure happy to put up with my troubles” 

Yuuta lets out a humorless laugh.  “Who wouldn’t listen to a pretty girl at a bar rant about her problems?” He asks, and he can’t quite see it but he knows she rolls her eyes at him.  “But since you got that number complaining about me, that makes me a wingman, right?” 

She snorts back at him.

“Not in the slightest” 

“No?” He frowns.  “Why not?” 

“For one, you weren’t there, you can’t be a wingman if you’re not present,” She explains, matter-of-factly.  “And for two, I don’t think telling a guy how annoying it is that my hot roommate has been walking around in a towel and getting in my head really is all that deserving of me getting a phone number.  I don’t think that booty-call was going to lead anywhere other than the bathroom stall” 

Yuuta crinkled his nose at the descriptive language, before backtracking and perking up at the other part.

“Did you say I’m hot?” 

Realization flashes in her eyes, and Yuuta thanks whatever deity is up there that he can finally make out her features in the dark room.  When she doesn’t immediately reply, his lips curl into a grin.

“You did!” He teases, and she yanks her hand out of his gentle hold, only for him to poke at her face playfully.  “You said-!” 

“Hush,” She shushes him with irritation.  “You’ll wake up Mai.  And- and that’s not a big deal.  You compliment me all the time” 

Her face is burning, and the smile that threatens to take over her face is beginning to win.

“Shut up, that’s totally different,” He murmurs, and moves closer to her when she tries to shrink away out of embarrassment.  “You called me your hot roommate.  And apparently you’re getting bothered over a towel? Is me being shirtless that upsetting?” 

“I’m not doing this with you right now-” 

“Oh no, come on, you have to now,” Yuuta pleads, his voice still that annoyingly sexy teasing tone.  (y/n) turns to push her face into her pillow, and he wiggles closer again, eager to hear what else she’d had on her mind.  “Come on, what else did you have to complain about?” 

“I complained that you’re annoying,” She whines, her voice muffled by the pillow.  Yuuta chuckles.  “And I complained about how you don’t know how much you…” She trails off, and her voice goes impossibly quieter.  “Bother me” She finishes in a mumble to the pillow.

He hears it perfectly clear.

His face feels hot, and there’s a familiar little tingle in his stomach.  But he smirks at her hiding form.

“Well what else, then?” He asks.

(y/n) rolls her head to the side, pressing her cheek back into the pillow as she looks over at him.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“What else bothers you?” He clarifies his question.

She giggles as she shakes her head at him.

“No way” 

“Yes way,” Yuuta laughs back at her.  “Come on, tell me” 

“No!” She protests again in a hiss.  “Am I not embarrassed enough already? I’m taking this to my grave” 

“No you’re not,” Yuuta scoffs.  “Come on, you tell me everything, so, tell me” 

She supposed he had a point.  A dumb one, but a point nonetheless.  Clearly at some point or another she was bound to indulge him on this.  Even though she couldn’t explain it, she was always driven to share every part of herself with Yuuta.  Even when it was embarrassing.  Even when it was intimate.

(y/n) may have told the Zen’in twins about the rushing-out-of-the-shower thing, but that hadn’t meant there weren’t other instances where her mind crossed the platonic boundary between her revolving thoughts of Yuuta.  That was just the first occurrence she assumed they could understand.

She huffs.

“Sometimes you wear your tee shirts a size too small,” She mumbles.

Yuuta wants to tease her, maybe crack a joke, but he keeps his mouth shut as she gives in.  He didn’t want to miss a single word.  He had to pay close attention so he knew exactly how to get under her skin in all the right ways.  Hearing that she found him hot was one thing, he could pass it off as a joke or an empty compliment.  Hearing that there were specific things that he did that made her sexually frustrated? He couldn’t mess this up for himself.

“And when you drive me places, you do that thing with your arm when you back the car up” She adds.

“What do you mean?” He questions that one with a furrowed brow.

“You know,” She mumbles, weakly lifting her arm to demonstrate, bending it behind her head.  He shakes his head, not understanding in the slightest.  “You always grab the back of my seat and look over your shoulder,” She tries to put it into words.  “And then, it’s just, like-” The words fail her again as she continues the motion with her arm.  Yuuta thinks he gets what she’s trying to explain, but he has no idea that such a mundane action was a bother for her.

“That turns you on?” He tries not to laugh, but then (y/n’s) face goes red and she’s trying to deny it.

“I didn’t say that!” She squeaks out.  “I just, you know, forget that I’m not supposed to… thinkaboutyoulikethat” She rushes the confession out as fast as she can.

“I… think that’s pretty normal,” Yuuta admits quietly.  (y/n) blinks wide eyes at him, waiting for him to continue.  “And if anything, I’m flattered,” He adds with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” (y/n) huffs, before wiggling closer, pressing her forehead into his chest before sighing, sleepiness overcoming her.  “Not a word of this to anyone else” She mutters.

Yuuta mock whines as he wraps an arm around her back, tucking her closer against him.  He pretends not to notice when her nose nuzzles into his tee shirt, in the middle of his chest.  He pretends not to notice when her hand slips across his abdomen and over his waist.

“I think about you too,” He murmurs, resting his chin on top of her head.  Her fingers twitch on his hip, almost tickling him.  He tries not to wiggle, he doesn’t want her to think he’s uncomfortable.  “For the record” 

“You do?” She mumbles, half asleep already, but too curious about what he meant by that.

“Mhm” He hums, his hand trailing down her spine and then back up again, the gentle touch of his fingers warming her up, making her melt further into him.

“Like when?” She asks, and when he doesn’t reply right away, she lets out a sigh.  “Come on, I told you!” She whined.  “Now you have to tell me some embarrassing stuff, too” 

“Alright, that’s fair,” Yuuta agreed.  “I like when you wear that dress” He says.  (y/n) beams against his chest.

“That one?” She mumbles, weakly gesturing to the pool of fabric on his floor.  He nods back at her.

“Mhm,” He confirms quietly.  “I know it’s your favorite.  It should be” He smiles to himself.  (y/n) giggles quietly, the soft vibrations hitting his chest and warming his skin.

“Tell me more” She mumbles, the words barely audible.  Yuuta knows that she’s going to pass out soon.  Her breathing was beginning to slow, and her chest rose and fell in steady movements.  Surely he could leave this conversation as it is and she’d be fast asleep in a minute or two anyhow.

“Well,” He sighs out the word, as if he had to pick his own brain to come up with more examples, as if every little thing she did wasn’t enough to catch his eye on it’s own.  “Maybe things are a lil’ different now, hm?” He hums.

(y/n) doesn’t respond.  For a second, he thinks maybe she’s finally fallen asleep, but just as he contemplates checking, her head moves in a small nod.  A silent, barely-there admission.

“I like the way you kiss,” He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, the cheeky but all-too shy little grin that she’s grown so accustomed to.  She gives him another giggle, a breathless little laugh that makes her shoulders shake and her nose press into the collar of his shirt.  “It’s true, I mean it,” Yuuta said, a quiet laugh escaping him as well.  Partially due to her laughter infecting him, partially out of the relief that maybe talking about what happened would help them both to not feel so weird about it now.  “You’re a good kisser, you should be proud.  I for one feel honored” 

He’s teasing, she knows that, but her face still feels warm as she keeps it tucked away in his chest, hoping that her heart wasn’t beating so rapidly that he could hear it in the quiet room.

“You’re a good kisser, too,” Her words are more slurred than before, Yuuta can practically hear her losing consciousness as she drifts off.  “Really good kisser” She adds under her breath.

And then her head feels a little heavier on his chest, and Yuuta doesn’t have to check to know she’s asleep in his arms.  He’s exhausted and he knows he should close his eyes and try to sleep, too.  But it feels too nice to hold her close, so he hangs onto consciousness for as long as he can.

Before his body’s tiredness finally takes over, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head, and settles into his pillow with his arms securely wrapped around her, making sure that she stays close while he sleeps.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[asprinkleoftism]

i am begging you for cecil headcanons (◎﹏◎)

Cecil Stedman Headcanons

I gotcha fam! Honestly if Donald didn't exist, Cecil would be the one who has a main chokehold on me. Doesn't help that Walton Goggins voices him and I could go ON about that man. If you would like some more then don't hesitate to ask! I hope you enjoy!

Despite having grey morals, he genuinely does care for everyone and wants the best outcome for everyone. 

Drinks coffee black, no sugar, no milk. 

Sweets are his kryptonite. Tries not to indulge in them too much but decides to anyway because ‘fuck it I protect the world from assholes’

Drives a black BMW 530i Sedan

Favorite color is red

Holidays are the only time he feels even remotely relaxed. 

Usually will host the company holiday parties at the GDA to have a sense of normality. 

Dog person 

Scotch and vodka guy

Likes classical music and instrumentals

Has a short fused temper and does internally feel bad when he takes it out on Mark or Donald

Doesn’t show it but would love to settle down one day with someone he loves 

Will take hot showers or to just stand and lay in and contemplate life and/or what has happened recently

Cannot cook to save his life. Will get takeout every time. Highly sleep deprived is a factor in that. 

Night owl

Will show his emotions through his face expressions. No poker face for this lad

Reads during his free time and it's usually a dystopian novel to help cope with what is going on in the real world. ‘It could always be worse’

Has a world coin collection

Like with his books, he likes to watch horror or thrillers that are wild to help cope with what he does for a living but is down for a comedy. Detective and mysteries are some of his favorite as well

Lives off of energy drinks and not because of the taste but because of the caffeine. 

Served in the military before taking his role leading the GDA

Has PTSD from his time in the military but keeps it to himself. 

Pro supporter of LGBTQ and women's rights and equality of course

Is satisfied with punching assholes in the face when he can

Feels remorse for keeping the secret from Donald

Sometimes he has a hard time finding the right words for comfort but will always find a way to do so physically whether it be a hug or hand on the shoulder

Will play first person shooter games if he needs to decompress after a hard day

Mediates daily 

If he does somehow get into a relationship, he has a hard time finding time for both GDA and the relationship. Eventually learns how to manage both. 

Dreams of retiring one day and would give the role to Donald in a heartbeat once he does

Born and raised in the South

No pet names except for darlin’

Soft spot for animals. Do not put on Old Yeller. May cry, but will mostly be mad about how it ends. 

Will only put up the Christmas tree when it's December. 

Although very closed off, once he is with someone he slowly starts to open up. And despite being hard shelled, he does have a soft spot in his heart for the ones he loves and cares about. 

Despite being retired, he remains in the city out of habit

Secretly loathes change 

Likes puzzles but doesn’t like the tiny 1000 pieces one for they test his patience. 

Speaking of patience, he doesn't have a lot of it

Loves going out for dates. He feels as though staying in is ‘not taking the opportunity to do something while we are still alive’

Does his best not to bring work home with him but it is difficult for him to do so. 

The second he yells at his significant other for any reason he tries anything to make up for it. ‘I’m sorry darlin’. I’m a mean old bastard, I know.’ *proceeds to hug them and take them out to eat or buy them whatever they wanted*

Considering he is in the high ranks, he has a huge salary but doesn’t ever buy anything for himself and is genuinely shocked when his significant other buys something for him out of the kindness of their heart. ‘What is this?’ ‘It made me think of you so I bought it’ ‘..thank you.’ 

6’4 height like Donald 

Bad OCD and is working to try and have it managed 

Borderline almost an alcoholic only because he drinks to cope with whatever happens throughout the day. 

Loves to be the little spoon after having a rough day. Would lowkey kill you, jk, if you ever told a soul about it

Hold him close, run your fingers through his hair, and say sweet nothings to him and he is melting into your arms and the bed. Instantly puts him to sleep. Again would never tell a living soul about it. 

Bad habit of biting his nails out of nervousness

Early balding due to the acid attack that killed hair follicles in that area

Not a huge crier and it only would be around his significant other after being together for a very long time and after it has been built up and bottled up over time. 

Doesn’t trust easily so it would take him a long time to open up to his significant other

Secret talent? Excellent violin player. Don’t know why but it fits. 

Whether in public or private, he would kiss his significant other at any given moment. ‘We could be nuked at any given moment. I can kiss my goddamn partner if I like.’ 

[gremlinmodetweeker]

TF 141 and their Morning Drink Preferences

TF 141 Dump

TF 141 Headcanons

Ghost:

Obvious tea drinker

Or is it that obvious?

Painfully British of the whole lot of them

Will only drink black teas, absolutely despises herbal, green or rooibos teas

Of the black teas avoids anything floral because he thinks it’s a bit too frilly for his palette

Never adds sugar to teas, says it ruins the flavor

Will add milk to help cool a tea, but only just slightly

Claims drinking a freshly made cup of tea on a hot summer day helps cool him down

How this works is beyond me, but he claims it anyways

Thinks adding cream is a vile concept and anyone who does so should be interrogated by the CIA

Soap

He’ll drink a cup of tea with Ghost, but he’s really more of a coffee person

Prefers medium roast with a heavy serving of cream

He can’t stand adding milk, but will use it if there’s nothing else

Adds sugar when he gets a chance

Despises sweeteners and will make little digs at anyone who does use sweetener, usually citing health reasons

Don’t try arguing that adding two spoons of sugar is just as bad, he won’t hear it

As for tea he prefers rooibos, which drives Ghost up the wall

Is down for anything, really

Gaz

Doesn’t like hot beverages

Prefers either a cool glass of water or juice

Does not understand caffeine addiction whatsoever

Claims the drinks are healthier and more refreshing

People just think he’s incredibly dehydrated in the morning

Will take orange juice from concentrate without batting an eye, but really enjoys more exotic juices if he can get his hands on them

When stationed in foreign countries he’ll try juices made from native fruits

Really likes cactus and mango juice, but is not opposed to papaya

Dislikes southern lemonade with a passion, claims it’s far too sweet

Is surprisingly peppy in the morning despite only drinking juice

Roach

Whatever’s there will work

However, he tends to prefer teas

He’s especially fond of green teas

He goes on about how healthy they are for the mind and body

Also will go on about how easy they are to transport and keeps a small sachet of matcha powder (the cheap stuff) on him to prove his point

He thinks Ghost is a snob and should just get over himself

Has tried to sway the others, but they all tell him matcha tastes like grass

He thinks they’re all idiots

Price

Coffee only

Does not fuss over his coffee whatsoever

Whatever’s in the canteen will do

His one gripe is adding cream or sugar

He will only take his coffee black

Some have tried to win him over with coffees made with cream/milk/sugar, and he’ll be polite enough to drink them and thank them, but he really doesn’t like it too much

He will tell them to not fuss too much if they get him another coffee so they don’t do it again

Cannot stand people whining about how they take their coffee and how the military doesn’t give out the good stuff

He just considers them weak whiners

This includes Ghost when he complains about not having enough black tea in the canteen

Price glad to say it to his face

He could not care less about age or temperature

He’ll pull a day-old cup straight out of the fridge and down it like there’s no tomorrow

Art from This Post

[asexualsinner]

More Ghoul Headcanons: Kitchen Edition

Mountain

Hides his snacks on the top shelf to avoid the others stealing them

Has to use a recipe when cooking

Likes hearty meals like stews

Is an excellent shadow, will assist any of the other ghouls or Copia when asked.

Likes to just be in the kitchen

Is the embodiment of a pioneer woman mom

Loves to bake

CanNOT handle spice

Thinks cayenne is spicy

Favorite food is chili and drink is tea

Favorite snacks are fig newtons (yes he knows that they're made with wasps, he thinks it's funny)

Carries epi pens on him for the others

Rain

Is obsessed with making smoothies

Isn't allowed to use the stove after using water on a grease fire

Nearly burned half the abbey down

It's fine, he prefers salads anyway

Do not trust this ghoul with a knife he will find a way to hurt himself by accident

Is just a disaster when in the kitchen

Favorite food is smoked salmon thanks to Dew

Fancy ✨bitch✨ that puts mint and fruits in his water

Is the only ghoul to like Kale

Has a high spice tolerance

Takes forever to do the dishes bc he'll play in the water instead

Dew/Sodo

Favorite snacks are seaweed sheets and Takis

His taste buds went "weird" after his transition

He can't decide what he likes anymore, spicy? Fish? So he decided on both. Sometimes neither

Loves to smoke foods, begs Mountain for dried wood flavors for it

Dew learning to smoke properly was heavy trial and error, some things were edible some were very much not

His favorite changes weekly, but ATM it's smoked veggies and tofu

Is a big garbage ghoul, will throw everything together on a plate and eat it

Drinks coffee but doesn't like energy drinks

Has moderate spice tolerance

Will try anything once

Surprisingly one of the better cooks in the pack

Is lactose intolerant. No this doesn't stop him. Why would it?

Doesn't need a recipe, cooks from memory or guesswork

Has everything labeled and dated

Swiss

NO spice tolerance

Tries to compete with Dew, Cumulus and Rain and it never ends well

Loves comfort food!!! Give this ghoul Macncheese or pierogies and he's happy

Can follow boxed instructions or strict recipes but tries to "improve" them

Survives off of Redbull

Doesn't know the difference between a chef's knife and a paring knife

Thinks bc he's a multi ghoul he can pull pans out of the oven without mitts - has been treated for burns multiple times

Hates doing the dishes

His go to snacks are gummy worms or jerky

Will eat expired food thinking it'll be fine - it never is

Is a 3am fridge raider

Phantom/Aeon

Loves pancakes, absolute favorite food though is fettuccine Alfredo. Has to be fettuccine noodles, spaghetti isn't the same

Has texture issues with food

Absolutely hates ground meats, the texture is bad

Has a sweet tooth

Is a surprisingly decent cook, can manage without recipes

Baking is beyond him

Mistook baking soda for sugar once and Mountain banned him from baking ever again

Doesn't like eggs

Is allergic to peanut butter

Favorite snacks are Oreos or rice crackers

Enjoys cranberry juice

Can't have caffeine - gives him headaches

Aether

One of the better cooks in the pack

Is one of the only ones that can finish the dishes without distractions

Is allergic to citrus fruits

Has an app on his phone to scan packages for ingredients

Will practically drink soy sauce he loves it so much

Favorite snack is cucumbers and Italian dressing

Prefers strawberry jam over grape jelly

Doesn't like seafood

Favorite food is deer chili - shares this with Mountain

Wears gloves when cooking to avoid cross contamination

Cumulus

SPICE QUEEN

Has done every spice challenge possible, downs it like it's nothing

Like Swiss, can read box instructions but don't trust her past that

Has burnt frozen pizza before

Favorite snacks are tortillas and ghost pepper salsa

Eats jalapenos like candy

Needless to say she terrifies others

Favorite food is homemade ramen - she begs the others to make it for her

Package ramen isn't the same

Likes to do the dishes and help out in the kitchen

Does need a step stool however

Favorite drink is hazelnut coffee

Aurora

Junk food junkie

Favorite snacks are Skittles and kettle cooked potato chips

Prefers vitamin water over regular water

Likes to make quick easy meals like grilled cheese etc

Eats at the oddest times, breakfast is 2pm and dinner has been at 4am for her

Leaves her dishes in the sink like a gremlin

Has been banned from eating in the living room

Gets easily distracted while cooking

If she puts her mind to it, can make really elaborate dishes for the pack

However she makes a huge mess of the kitchen when doing so

Cirrus

Can identify spices/ingredients after tasting things once

Is also lactose intolerant, takes lactaid frequently

Loves Korean BBQ

Likes differing temperatures (cold food that's spicy, mints, etc)

Loves blackberries and celery

Is a very good cook, can make most things after trying them once

Her favorite drink is bubble tea

Has medium spice tolerance, like spicy flavor rather than the heat

Would rather dry and put away the dishes than wash them

Has a massive sweet tooth like phantom

[artisticxlly]

A collection of Osasuna headcanons

(that are mostly gathered from my current wip):

Suna is camera shy (I dont even remember where I got this from, but it was such a cute concept that it's now canon in my eyes)

Suna wears eyeliner. it's the thing he likes to do when he puts effort into his appearance (this ofc includes any time he's out with Osamu)

-Theyre both equally down bad for each other and match each others freak-

They despise how sappy and cheesy they can get around each other, despite obviously secretly enjoying it

fresh out of the shower, Suna smells like yuzu and cinnamon, and Osamu smells like cedarwood bc of the products/deodorant they use

Osamu runs hot and Suna runs cold (he actually gets very blushy in the cold and Osamu finds it adorable), if they share a blanket, Suna will hog it, not that Osamu minds

Suna's grip strength/ general hand and wrist strength is crazy strong despite his hands looking much slimmer when compared to Osamu

Osamu has a lot of scars from learning how to cook (burns, cuts, you name it) and Suna has their placements burned into his memory for some reason (totally not because he likes to trace them and kiss them)

Osamu gains quite a bit of weight after high school and everything (also some fair amount of muscle because of how much protein he consumes) and while he doesn't hate it, Suna is feral over it and very grabby

very random, Suna gets acne on his back and hates it

Suna for funsies tries to do a yoga course with Osamu and finds out that Osamu is pretty bad when it comes to flexibility (He cannot relate to some degree, though he cant do the splits or anything either),, it makes for an extremely funny date because they both laugh at Osamu's struggle (and pain)

Osamu hates having people help him when he cooks but he's just content having Suna play music while sitting on the counter or telling him about the latest gossip

This fits into that previous one, but I feel like OsaSuna would really like R&B or soul music in general!! (I have a fair share of those in my Osasuna playlist for a reason) Imagining them dancing to some songs of that genre makes me insane

They both like to consume news, Suna doing so through social media and the internet and Osamu through magazines and the local newspaper

Osamu actually ends up subscribing to a whole bunch of sports magazines because he wants to see how his former teammates are doing (there's a spot on the shelf at Onigiri Miya for old magazines he owns and has read and that customers can skim through while they wait for their order/are staying and eating)

Osamu is very dramatic once he gets extremely drunk and there was an instance where Atsumu dropped him off at Suna's place with something along the lines of 'you take care of this scrub'

They both don't really like the bitterness of coffee. They drink it anyway because they need the caffeine, just with sugar and milk usually.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Nina The Killer Headcanons

Psycho Barbie’s turn in the spotlight!!!!

I’ve always thought Nina in concept was so fucking cool, like, an obsessed fangirl becoming a copycat killer always scratched a good niche in my brain, so I never hated her like most of the fandom did when I was younger, I just never really interacted with anything about her cause. The fandom hated her, lmao.

Expect canon typical violence/topics beyond this point pookies <3

TGIRL SWAG!!!!!!!!! Nina is trans I’m making it canon right now and you can’t do shit about it

Roughly about 25, two years younger than Jeff

Ann ain’t the only zombie adjacent character in the mansion

Nina actually has zero fucking clue why she keeps coming back every time Jeff murders her, but she’s having fun with it so ig it’s fine right?

Some of the more supernaturally intelligent members of the mansion also have no fucking idea what her deal is. By all accounts she should be dead and rotting a thousand times over

Eyeless Jack has done four vivisections on her and all yielded the same result, human

Except humans don’t bounce back after having their heart cut out????

Seconds after losing organs they just???? Reappear??? Inside her body???? What the fuck????

Out of everyone she’s a massive enigma. No one can figure it out but everyone loves using her as a guinea pig for murder purposes

Ya girl is such a masochist she actually gets disappointed when people don’t like testing new stabbing methods on her

She’s so unapologetically a freak, she’s cringe, but she’s free

Out of everyone in the mansion she’s the easiest to get along with

Sometimes to her detriment, her hyper extroverted personality off puts some of the more quiet and reserved inhabitants

No one truly hates her, you can’t exactly hate someone who doesn’t have a combative bone against you in their body, but not everyone likes to stick around her

It bothers her only a little bit when she’s noticed she’s pushed people away with her intense personality (it bothers her A LOT-)

She loves collecting and gifting trinkets and jewelry to people. The amount of Kandi bracelets she’s made Jeff and Ben, good lord-

The most persistent determined bitch in the world. You would have to nuke her entire existence to get her to stop focusing/going after something

Of course it ends up making her stubborn

Buuuuuuut she’s also an honorary favorite dog of Slenderman

The household often has monthly contests to see who can have the highest body count. You’ll never guess who’s almost always in the top 3

So she’s out on missions a lot. She comes back and gossips talks about what’s happened when she comes back two days later

Surprisingly doesn’t have a sweet tooth? You’d think with how manic she acts she injects sugar and caffeine into her bloodstream, but nope, she doesn’t. She hates fruit candies and can only stomach dark chocolate

Always comes back from hits and supply runs with tons of candy anyways to share with everyone

Is a SLUT for spicy foods

Ann had to cut her tongue off one time because she fucked it up so bad eating stuff that was borderline radioactive with how spicy it was

Everyone is convinced she would eat actual nuclear waste if given the chance just to feel the burn

The biggest foodie in general too. She’s not the best at cooking but everyone loves her pancakes

Ben made a joke one time about her putting crack in the batter. Two weeks later she had to apologize to mansion parents Masky and Hoody about why half the house was suffering withdrawal symptoms. Someone has to monitor her while she cooks now. Bummer.

She’s a total junkie but she is responsible about it at least dammit!

Like yeah she gets stoned out of her goddamn mind with Ben every other weekend, but that shit doesn’t leave her or his room

She has to set a good example for Sally!!!!!

The kid fucking adores Nina like a big sister

Nina is always bringing her goodies and toys

In return Sally does her makeup for the day

Does it look like a 5 year old scribbled all over her face? Yes and she doesn’t care!!!! She wears that shit with pride

Helen made fun of it once and he has since learned not to piss off the hyperactive pink glitter mayhem lady who knows how to wield a chainsaw

Oh yeah fuck knives. Nina got tired of knives pretty quick. Ya girl USES A CHAINSAW

It’s totally not the same kind of chainsaw Jeff used when he was a scare actor in college shut up no way

She’s really good with the thing too. It’s so heavy and she totes it around like it weighs nothing

She’s got such a sleeper build it’s insane. She’s 5”2 and 160 pounds of pure whoop ass

AND SHE DOES IT ALL IN PLATFORMS AND ACRYLIC NAILS??????

She’s just constantly full of energy and needs to be doing something at every second or she thinks she’ll explode

Besides her signature chainsaw covered in stickers and glitter, she’s also pretty handy with handguns, axes, and baseball bats

She’s got a small collection of weapons under her bed

Three guns (all customized with stickers and paint), a large axe (with a heart in the middle of the blade), and two baseball bats (one covered in nails)

Her room is a fucking mess but she knows where anything and everything is

Girl can’t even see her floor and she’s somehow able to find what she needs in there

Bead curtains, a disco ball, leopard print carpet on the ceiling, lava lamps, it looks like scene mixed with the 70’s threw up in there

Not exactly the most fashionable but has the biggest wardrobe and most flashy way of dressing

Like. I don’t even think she owns anything solid. Definitely not solid black

Has given herself many tattoos and piercings

To the point she’s so good at it that the others start coming to her asking for her to do the same to them

Her hair never stays one color for long, but often goes between red and purple

Is best friends/close with: Ben, Kagekao, Jason, LJ, Sally, the Puppeteer, Clockwork, and Jane

Has a tolerable relationship/is neutral about: Masky, Hoody, Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ann, Helen, and Slenderman

Hates no one

Has a… questionable relationship with Jeff

When first starting off he fucking hated her, but she was so goddamn persistent and just kept getting back up despite the multiple times he was certain he’d killed her, to the point she’s grown on him like a parasite

She sees him as her ultimate best friend, her ride or die, and he’s flattered…but he definitely doesn’t feel intensely as she does

Like he obviously doesn’t hate her anymore and actually quite enjoys her company. But she also annoys the shit out of him and he often finds himself needing a break from her constant state of “on”. Girl has no off switch

The two of them are often found lounging together and talking random shit, or sparring

She believes that somehow the first time he killed her, it gave her her weird zombie regeneration abilities

And of course she thinks that’s cool as fuck and nearly worshipped the ground he walks on because of it

The more time has passed the more she’s grown to stop feeling like she needs him to function

She went from making herself Jeff’s biggest fan her whole personality to becoming an actual decent person outside of her unhealthy obsession with him

Surprisingly never had any romantic feelings for the man

Like yeah she was obsessed but not like that

She just thinks he’s waaaaay cooler than other people see him as

Jane and Clockwork are her girl solidarity bffs

Jane was practically the girl’s mentor in how to be girl 101 when Nina was beginning to realize she was trans

Whereas Clockwork was her combat mentor who taught Nina everything she knows about kicking someone’s ass

They went from her cool lesbian moms to her cool lesbian besties

She’s one of the only few who can tolerate LJ’s nonsense

And by nonsense I mean his usual mad hatter ramblings and personality. Nina thinks it’s hilarious and loves that he’s just as down to clown (SORRY) as she is

Her, him, and Sally are the prank trio

The two would do anything to hear that little girl erupt into giggles

Her and Ben bond over scene fashion and old internet stuff

Ben is also her weed dealer. He’s everyone’s weed dealer but she gets special treatment and doesn’t have to pay him shit cause they’re besties

She’s a pretty positive person overall but cannot fucking stand/HATES anyone outside the mansion

She views everyone there like family

The outside world not so much. Bullying has really left her bitter

Hates blackmail but definitely holds grudges!!! It’s hard to get on her bad side though, so no one’s worried about it

Loves breakcore, kpop, jpop, any kind of hyper and electronic music, extra points if it’s pop

[emira-addams]

Hazbin Hotel - Odette x Velvette - Juliet and Juliet in Hell

Chapter 04: Smoke and Sinful Sushi

Leaning back casually, Velvette sat on a rundown brick wall, legs folded over, and basked in the red radiance of the horizon. She was wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses which she had snatched in passing from one of the many booths for tourists, all hell-born who visited the capital of hell for fun.

Next to her, Odette sat cross-legged on the wall. Between them lay a tattered plastic tray of supermarket sushi from the refrigerated section, the more or less fresh fish formerly a loan shark. Odette poked very skeptically at the sinful snack with her chopsticks. "The shark tastes awful!" Odette retched after shoving a single maki roll into her mouth. She felt her appetite dwindle away after just one bite. "I bet Auntie Rosie has the flawless recipe for loan shark... I'll ask her as soon as I get home. That stuff from the supermarket is seriously inedible..."

"I take it that the sushi is no match for Rosie's cooking skills?" Odette shook her head and Velvette laughed out loud. "Can I try a sip of your coffee?" she asked, pointing to the drink in Odette's hand.

"Please..." Odette held the straw up to Velvette. "The coffee's too sweet for me anyway. Not my taste…"

Velvette sipped Odette's frappuccino. Sweet blended with bitter and the cold cream made the hot coffee taste insanely pleasant before both melted and merged on her tongue. "Does this direct swapping of spit count as an indirect kiss?" Velvette raised her eyebrows flirtatiously and gave Odette a challenging look as Odette completely abandoned her frappuccino to Velvette's hungry craving for sugar, who immediately devoured the cold coffee and caffeine with relish. "Do you know anything about what's up between your mother and Rosie?"

Odette answered her question with a surprised arch of her brows. "There's something between my mother and Auntie Rosie?" she responded in all seriousness. "Do you suspect there's something romantic between them?"

"I was quite sure we were sitting in the same meeting just hours ago..." Velvette smacked her forehead with the flat of her hand. "No, I think they're just roommates, really good friends or something..."

Annoyed, Odette rolled her eyes. "You're pretty mean, Velvette..."

"Thank you!" Velvette laughed louder, her voice sounding heavy and laced with cigarette smoke. She pulled a half-filled pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of her beloved vest. Smoking had become a bad habit of hers during her lifetime. She took one of the seemingly harmless looking things out of the flat package. Sighing, she pushed it between her intense black lips and without having to say another word to Odette, she held out the flat of her hand. Odette gave her a lighter. Velvette carefully protected the sensitive flame from the wind with her hand and easily got the end to glow before handing the lighter back to Odette and taking a deep, satisfying drag from her cigarette.

Odette scrunched up her nose. "If my mother smells the cigarette smoke on my clothes and in my hair, she'll absolutely know I've been out with you." With mock disgust and a deprecating grimace, she quickly pulled the hem of her top over the tip of her nose to at least get some roughly filtered air to breathe. "She says you're a bad influence..."

"Me and a bad influence?" gasped Velvette feigning. "I'm not a bad influence..." she pouted and offered Odette her cigarette. "Luckily parents aren't always right," she smirked as Odette took the glowing cigarette from Velvette's hand, took a single drag and nodded in affirmation. She exhaled the warm smoke and passed Velvette her cigarette back.

"Sometimes I can't stand the obnoxious smell of cigarette smoke at all..." said Odette. She caught Velvette's gaze and met it back, a slight smile curling on her lips. She shook her head in amazement and tried to banish a thought. "If my mother knew that I was sitting on this wall right now with you, the Velvette of the Three Vees, eating cheap sushi, she would crucify me..." she whispered. "But I think you might be worth it."

"Don't worry... I know a very simple solution to this problem. A rope, some bin bags, a shovel and a deep hole in the garden," Velvette joked. Velvette wailed in agony as Odette jabbed her elbow between her ribs without a single scrap of mercy. "Pretty and intelligent girls fall under bad influences and indulge in physical violence against their innocent fellow beings... This hellish society is truly cursed..."

"Drama queen!" Odette crooned.

Velvette indicated a bow and took a last long drag from her cigarette, which she held piqued between two fingertips. She held the biting, burning smoke in her lungs for a brief moment before exhaling. She savored the taste of tobacco and cream in her mouth as she finished the last remnants of Odette's frappuccino and then stubbed out the stale cigarette butt on the rough bricks.

"Are we going to catch something edible?" Velvette held out her hand to Odette.

Odette casted a skeptical sideways glance at the untouched remains of the sushi. "You pay!" she announced and took Velvette's hand. She followed her and intertwined their fingers.

As they passed a trash can, Velvette disposed of her pack of cigarettes, unnoticed by Odette.

"Which color do you like better?" Velvette held out the back of her painted hand to Odette. She presented her with the different colors of lipstick she had picked up in the department for all kinds of make-up utensils in a small drugstore, the two of them were stuck standing in front of the shelves. Velvette still held the labeled testers in her other hand while she looked at Odette expectantly and waited for her honest opinion.

Odette frowned questioningly. "You already wear similar shades of red in your clothes, they clash, and does the pink have to be with glitter? Too much glitter looks really cheap..."

"Never mind..." Velvette grumbled, slightly offended, and wiped the stains off the back of her hand with a tissue. "What do you think about this black?" She pulled another lipstick from one of the many colorful compartments. She twisted it open and held it next to her face to check it out.

Odette took a step back and carefully checked Velvette out from top to bottom while she considered and then nodded resolutely. An awe-struck smile graced her lips. "Drop dead gorgeous! Uhm... I mean, that color would look fantastic on you!"

"Thanks!" Velvette smirked and put all the testers back before grabbing a foil-wrapped lipstick in the right color.

"Everything all right?" asked Velvette curiously as she spread their purchases out on the checkout conveyor belt, black lipstick for Velvette and chocolate cookies for Odette. In her mind, Velvette made a mental note that these delicious delights were Odette's favorite.

Silently, Odette stared at her phone screen, many missed calls and message after message from her worried mother lit up. "What did you say?" Confused, she shifted her gaze to Velvette. A guilty conscience was written all over her face, it marred it.

"Uhm... I asked you a question," Velvette tried to repeat. "Do you think the glue under the stickers on the apples in the supermarket has different tastes?" Velvette searched in her pockets for money. She handed the crumpled bills to the cashier, who wrapped their purchases in a plastic bag.

"I don't know..." Odette shrugged her shoulders as Velvette grabbed the plastic bag and held the swinging door open for her. "You need to try it out?" They left the store.

Between the tall buildings and cold facades, the shadows grew in the fading light. The first streetlights switched on.

"What do you want to do next?" Velvette wanted to know.

Odette glanced back at the screen of her phone, worried. "I think I have to go home..." she huffed. Insecurely, she adjusted the glasses on the tip of her nose.

"Oh..." Flustered, Velvette scratched the back of her head. She saw Carmilla Carmine's name flash up again and again. "Would you like me to walk you home?" Suddenly, Odette pulled Velvette by her hand into the nearest alley. She felt the rough surface of the bricks dig into her back as Odette gently pushed her against the wall. She felt her breath on her skin, the warmth of her hands traveling over her body, and again Velvette lost herself hopelessly in the deep crimson of her eyes.

"By Lucifer... Could you fucking stop gawking so fucking romantically at me all the fucking time?" breathed Odette, usually she never sweared so much. She carefully took the plastic bag from her sweaty hands, poured the contents down at her feet and draped it over Velvette's head.

"What are you-"

Odette cut off her sentence, instead she closed her eyes and cupped Velvettes cheeks. Softly, she placed her lips on hers and kissed her delicately through the plastic of the bag. Taken a bit by surprise, Velvette quickly returned the kiss, her heart hammering in her chest and the blood rushing in her ears.

Odette broke away from her lips. "I-I'm sorry..." she murmured, her voice a faltering whisper. She hesitated and shook her head. "I can't really kiss you yet..." Odette suddenly whisked a pen out of her pocket. She pulled off the cap and wrote her number on the back of Velvette's hand. "I have to go home, but when we meet again, you'll get a real kiss," she promised. "Thank you, Velvette... The day was really lovely."

Odette sent her a parting smile, but then she had quickly disappeared from the alley and Velvette's field of vision.

Lost in thought, Velvette waved to her, struggling to sort out her scattered mind. "Okay..." mumbled Velvette. Speechless, she stared at the combination of numbers on the back of her hand. Her heart was still hammering like crazy in her chest.

Chapter 05:

[dksw0rld]

How I Achieved Glass Skin Without Trying

Yes, you read that right. I achieved glass skin literally without trying at all. With glass skin being pretty much the last thing on my mind actually. Partly because I was never insecure about my skin as I really didn't have any acne issues. I had smaller bumps on my forehead and a little bit on the other parts of my face but no big breakouts or chronic issues. Also partly because I was so focused on something else...want to learn how you can also achieve clear skin without actually trying to achieve clear skin? Keep reading for all the deets.

Okay, so, as I mentioned above - clear skin was not my focus. It was genuinely the last thing on my mind. My focus was on something better. My focus was (and is) on my overall health. Women nowadays are so focused on 10 step skincare routines to achieve clear skin and retain youthfulness. This is not me putting anyone down, if a 10 step skincare routine makes you happy than by all means continue on! I'm merely pointing out that women don't need to do all of that to heal their skin. The key word in that last sentence is heal. But enough of me talking, here's what I did to completely clear my skin by focusing on my overall health. **Everything I name below are things I still do.

Diet

I focused on consuming nourishing foods

I have veggies and / or fruit at every meal. No exception. I don't go a day without consuming them. I focus on foods that nourish my body from the inside out. I don't eat processed anything. I consume other types of carbs, not just bread or pasta.

2. I began to drink coconut water and pure pineapple juice first thing in the morning

I drink 8 - 10oz of coconut water mixed with pineapple juice every morning. I've seen a big difference with my hydration levels throughout the day.

3. I severely limited fizzy drinks

There's a specific brand of sparkling water I love (it's called Clear American) and I used to drink it regularly. There's nothing super unhealthy about this brand but it's still carbonated. When I began to limit drinking sparkling water, I noticed a difference in my body and skin. I also very rarely drink soda, and if I do it's always Ginger Ale. I mainly drink water with lemon, organic lemonade and hot tea.

4. I limit bread to one meal a day

I always eat a type of carb during breakfast as they give me the energy I need to go through the day. *Side note* carbs are not bad for you. Your body needs them! Processed carbs are what should be avoided. Anyways, I only eat bread one time a day and then I'll eat other types of carbs throughout the day. The bread I eat is always the least amount of processed possible. I only eat sourdough or whole grain bread. I like going to famers markets to purchase my bread. If I don't eat bread for breakfast then I'll potentially eat a slice or two at lunch but I avoid eating bread for dinner. I like to consume things my body can more easily break down at dinner.

5. I cut out alcohol

I never drank a whole lot. I've always been a 'glass of wine while hanging with my best friend' type of woman, but if I was out on the town I would drink cocktails. I cut mixed drinks out completely. If I go out I'll order a pineapple juice or ginger beer (which despite its name, is nonalcoholic). I will very occasionally have a glass of wine but that's about it.

6. I limited my caffeine intake

I have a cup of coffee with creamer and sugar in the morning and that's it for coffee. If I'm slowing down in the middle of the day I drink water first and make sure to get up and take a walk around my office to get my blood flowing. If I'm still dragging after a full cup of water and 30 minutes, I'll drink a chai, other caffeinated tea or a matcha.

Lifestyle

1. I shortened my skin care routine to 2-3 steps

Your skin does not need a lot. It needs to be taken care of from the inside out way more than it needs products on it. In the morning I do a serum, very very light exfoliation and a moisturizing hyaluronic acid lotion. At night I cleanse, put on eye cream and use the same lotion. Once or twice a week I'll do a face mask. That's it! When I switched to this simple routine and focused on my overall health, my skin began to thrive.

2. I began to walk more

I sustained an injury so I wasn't able to walk as much as I was before. Once my injury healed and I was able to walk again (in the midst of all the other changes I was making), I noticed a difference in my energy level and changes in my body. Walking is so great for you, including great for your skin!

3. I began to sleep with a satin pillowcase every night

I ditched the regular pillowcase and switched to a satin one. I did this switch for my hair, not my skin but I've noticed it's helped with my skin a lot as well.

That's it! Once I made these simple changes and was consistent with them, I began to notice how much more amazing I felt. Then one day I looked up and my skin was completely clear. Not a small bump in sight. You don't need to buy all these acne products off of Amazon to get rid of your problem areas. Focus on nourishing and healing your body from the inside out. That's the secret.

[futuresoon]

get to know your mutuals

tagged by @rixareth!

favorite color: i like a good orange

last song you played: RUMBLE feat. masato from coldrain/Paledusk, aka the final boss theme for the first part of hundred line. i won't pretend it's one of the best boss themes ever but it's pretty good and also. the reasons

currently reading: technically i am slowly reading apostles of mercy by lindsay ellis, but since i usually only read print books on long bus rides or while waiting for a doctor my reading pace is generally zero except for when it's not

currently watching: murderbot (haven't read the books but the show is really fun), apothecary diaries (probably one of those Objectively Good anime that pop up every now and then), and black butler emerald witch arc (a couple months ago i had a minor mental breakdown and read like the entire second half of the manga in like two days; this was fun until i found out there was basically no fannish content that either didn't appeal to me or was created by people who would throw rocks at me if they could, and the fixation died out pretty quick after that)

currently playing: technically i am playing deltarune but in spirit i am still playing the hundred line - last defense academy, a game i started on april 23rd and am over 150 hours into and still have not finished. i cannot claim it is a perfect game but when it's good it's real good and it's got The Character. eito aotsuki is what happens when a guy who's good at writing morally dubious homoerotic foils isn't limited to a single timeline with a single resolution and can truly just do whatever the fuck

currently craving: i just had lunch so i'm not hungry but a little treat type of cold drink would be nice

coffee or tea: coffee tastes bad and caffeine doesn't work on me anyway so i am a tea enjoyer, however most tea doesn't taste like anything unless it has sugar so in practice i just drink a lot of chamomile. every time characters drink tea that isn't chamomile or green and they say it tastes good i'm like "god i wish that were me"