#feel better again. or ever. but i can promise you that there are things you will miss out on.

[matchingbatbites]

I've been thinking about this post by @foulwitchknight for like three days nonstop, so thanks for the brain worms.

It's after dark when the knocking starts on the trailer door, the sound frantic enough to make Eddie anxious as he pulls himself up off the couch and goes to answer.

He isn't expecting to find Steve on the other side, but his surprise at seeing his boyfriend is squashed when the scent of distress hits him, acrid and bitter on the back of his tongue.

Eddie barely gets out a "Baby?" before Steve is babbling, clearly distraught about something.

"I didn't know, Eddie, I swear. I didn't have anything to do with this and it's- My dad, he just fucking does this shit without even talking to me about it and-"

"Stevie, sweetheart," Eddie cuts in as he reaches out to grab Steve's biceps, trying to ground him a bit. "What are you talking about, baby? What's going on?"

Steve whines, low and forlorn, and offers something to Eddie. The newspaper is crumpled from the iron grip Steve had on it, but Eddie takes it and smooths it out a bit. He scans the page, trying to figure out what could have Steve so worked up, and then he sees it.

Richard and Catherine Harrington are proud to announce the engagement of their son, Steven, to Jack Wright, son of Donald and Linda Wright.

There's more after it, something about honor and business, but Eddie doesn't care about the details. He just looks up at Steve with a soft "Is this real?"

Steve nods even as he shrinks in on himself and mutters a broken "I didn't know," and Eddie can't help it. He grabs Steve again and pulls him inside, into the tightest hug he can manage while he kicks the door shut behind them.

Somehow he gets them back to his room and on the bed, needing to hide his Omega away in his den, needing to keep him safe.

"I don't want him, Eddie," Steve mutters into his collar, his own grip on the Alpha nearly crushing - but Eddie wouldn't have it any other way. "Want you, just you."

Eddie presses his face into Steve's hair, breathing in his marzipan scent, sweet once again now that the burnt edge to it has faded. "I know, sweetheart. We'll figure something out, I promise."

Nails dig into Eddie's back through his thin t-shirt, and then Steve is pulling back just enough to look Eddie in the face. "Give me your bite."

"Steve-"

"Please, Eddie. We were already planning on it, and- I don't want them to even have a chance to take me away from you. You're my Alpha, and I want to be your mate more than anything in the world. Just- please."

Eddie's heart swells and all he can do is nod before swooping in and kissing Steve, hard and desperate. The Omega responds so beautifully under Eddie's touch, and it takes no time for them to strip off their clothes, no time for them to touch and push and press until Eddie is joined with his beautiful mate-to-be.

He can't help the way he rambles as they move together, a litany of "Gonna bite you, baby. Gonna mate you, pup you, give you anything and everything you want."

Steve whines and squeezes where their hands are laced together in the bedding beside his head, a low mantra of "Please please please," falling from his lips.

They hit their climax together and Eddie sinks his teeth into the meat of Steve's neck, into the mating gland that rests under the skin. He groans at the taste of copper and almond that floods his senses, and barely registers the pinch of a bite on his own neck.

Eddie weeps as the bond snaps into place, and Steve isn't any better, fat tears falling down his face as they lay there and bask in the feeling of completion. Of knowing that they belong to each other, that nothing and no one can ever separate them.

They wake up early the next morning and take their time packing Eddie's things, trying to stall until Way arrives home from his shift. The man knows something's up the second he steps into the trailer, and it's a long, tearful goodbye full of promises to call and visit before they're climbing into Eddie's van.

They're on the road when Eddie reaches over to take Steve's hand in his own and squeezes it gently. "Hey. I love you," he says, sparing a glance over at his Omega, his mate, his Stevie.

He gets a gentle smile and a soft "I love you too," in return, and that's really all Eddie needs.

[minniesmutt]

Hiii, I saw your post about the 1k event!!! CONGRATS btw 😱😱 could u do a prince Hyunjin/maid afab 🥹🥹 prompt 7!!

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPT: 7 “I’m not jealous! it's just… you’re mine!” ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: PRINCE!HYUNJIN, MAID!GN!READER, JEALOUSY, POSSESSIVE SEX, THEY NEEDY, BRIEF MENTION OF FINGERING, MARKING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAMPIE, AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.9K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     “What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked as he stopped behind them

     “My job, your highness,” Y/n told him

     “You’re job is to attend to me. Not the guests.”

     “Your Highness, for the large parties I attend to everyone. You made that clear to me yourself.”

     Hyunjin huffed, they were right. He did say that. He watched as Y/n excused themself from his presence. Hyunjin huffed and looked around the room. It was another fancy royal party he was honestly not the biggest fan of. Especially with how his Y/n was being flirted with. He genuinely hated it. They had been one of his personal attendants since they had joined the castle but he never saw them as just a maid. 

     He knew full well that they couldn’t be together status-wise. But that didn’t stop the young prince from thinking about them all day and night, painting them, dragging them along with them to everything. This event was not his favorite thing. It was too many people now and he was socially drained for the night. 

     He watched them move around the room before disappearing into one of the servant’s tunnels. He made his way to the same tunnel. It was easy to slip away when all his guests were drunk. Y/n saw him immediately and looked at him questioningly.

     “You’re done working for the night,” Hyunjin stated

     “I most certainly am not. I’m not done till everyone leaves and the castle is clean,” Y/n argued

     “No, you’re done for the night,” Hyunjin said again

     “Does this have to do with you being jealous?”

     “I’m not jealous!” Hyunjin asserted. “It’s just… you’re mine!” 

     “You’re highness…”

     “No. No more of this status stuff…”

     “You’re drunk. Let me get you to your room.”

     It was easy for Y/n to lead him through the servant areas to his room. Far from the party. Y/n got him cleaned up and changed before making him get in bed.

     “Y/n,” Hyunjin caught their arm as they were pulling the sheets over him

     “You’ll feel better in the morning. Get some rest.”

     “I’m not drunk.”

     “Your—”

     “Why won’t you return my feelings?”

     Y/n sighed. “Please, tell me what I can do.” Hyunjin pleaded

     “There’s nothing you can do, Hyunjin. Even if I accepted you’re advances, the kingdom would have my head…”

     “I’d keep you safe. Nothing would ever happen to you.” Hyunjin sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Pulling them between his legs, “Please Y/n. Just let me prove myself?”

     “You don’t need to prove yourself,” Y/n gave in, grabbing his face and resting their forehead against his

     “Then be mine. Once I’m king, we’ll wed and you won’t have to worry. I promise,” Hyunjin held onto their hips.

     “Hyun…”

     “Stay with me tonight. I’ve already said you’re done working,” the prince smiled, leaning back and pulling them onto him as he went down

     “If the castle—”

     “No one is going to find out. I promise you that.”

     Y/n knew he was sincere, he never would go back on his words. Y/n gave in and pressed their lips to his. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them and turned them over, now on top and caging them to the bed. Y/n moaned into his mouth as they wrapped their arms around him

     “May I?” Hyunjin asked as he played with the fabric of their clothes

     “Please.”

     Hyunjin didn’t waste another second stripping them of their uniform as quickly as he could while Y/n pulled off the clothing they had just helped him dress into. Everything happened quickly till it was just a pile on the ground and Hyunjin was spreading their legs open, long fingers pumping in and out of them. Prepping them as he kissed along their neck, claiming what was his. 

     “Hyunjin,” Y/n quietly moaned 

     “Don’t hide. I want the whole castle to know you’re mine. Only I can make you sound like this.”

     Hyunjin pulled his fingers out of them and brought them to his lips. Looking them in the eye, licking his fingers clean, and watched them get flustered. Y/n swallowed the lump in their throat as he lined himself up and gently pushed into them

     “Hyunjin,” Y/n moaned

     “I’ve got you,” the prince assured them before slowly rocking into them. Holding them as close as he could while peppering their body with kisses. Planting them anywhere he could reach till they pulled him to their lips. Using his mouth to drown out any noise that they were making. 

     Y/n wrapped their legs around his hips. Pulling him closer as his pace picked up. Hips meeting theirs in the otherwise silent room. 

     “Hyun,” Y/n whined

     “Close darling?”

     “Yes.”

     “Go ahead. Let me have it,” Hyunjin said. 

     Y/n couldn’t keep it in much longer. They moaned a little too loud for their taste as their orgasm hit. Arcing off the bed as they roomed through the euphoria of the high. Hyunjin fucked then through it before his own took over. Burying himself inside them and painting their insides.

     It took both of them some time to come back to reality. Both covered in sweat and catching their breaths. Hyunjin pecked their lips before standing straight and pulling out. Y/n whined as he slipped out of them. 

     Hyunjin walked to the bathroom before coming back and cleaning them up. “Let me—“

      “No,” Hyunjin stopped them from sitting up and taking over. He cleaned them up and tossed the fabric to the side. The prince tucked them into his sheets and laid down with them. 

     “Hyun…”

     “You’re staying with me tonight. No questions.”

     Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them and fell into slumber, dreaming of the day they could be together with the difference in status.

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[allurecile]

take a chance ( s.jaeyun ) — PART ONE

synopsis: where your best friend is a loser good guy and tries to show how love really feels like: “take a chance! baby, let’s take a chance! yeah i know they did you wrong but i’m not all bad [ … ] don’t hold back and i promise you can fall in love again.”

song inspiration: fall in love again , p1harmony.

second/last part: fall in love again. ( coming soon )

( 엔하이픈 ) - bestfriend!jaeyun x fem.reader ; pure fluff & angst ; happy ending ( words : 5,2k+ )

──── bookshelf .

warnings : reader had her heart broken many times, reader dates men, curse words, reader’s ex-boyfriend dated her for a bet, mentions of mentions of cheating, mean comments on how reader looks like, toxic relationship, reader’s parents are divorced, mentions of trust issues, vague mention that reader’s grandparents have passed away, mentions of therapy.

note: okay guys yall can shot me... i know i haven't updated for a very long time and i'm sad i couldn't :( i'll try to be more active!! i hope i'll get more ideas and more motivation because yall ,, it's been hard recently lmao ; okay, enjoy this work!

your first boyfriend was back in high school, and he was the popular and richie guy from the class. many girls who desired him were left with their mouth open when they saw both of you kissing in the back of the school’s building. it was a big deal for you because he was your first love, your first boyfriend; and your first kiss. and the first person who played with you.

someone — who anonymously sent you a text — said that they had proves that your boyfriend didn’t love you as he always said he did. you were confused, but heard the audio the person sent you the next day, and you were shocked with your boyfriend’s at the time words. — “she’s going to fall for you man! she’s a dummy, a scaredy cat!” you heard one of his friend’s voice. “he’s right bro,” you heard another one say. “and if you make her fall in love with you within one month, a thousand dollar is going to stuff your pockets!” ; you gasped, covering your mouth as you tried to be silent while sobbing in the girl’s bathroom cabin.

it was humiliating and pathetic how painful a heart break felt like. — “yeah, she’s really naive! okay, bet, i wanna see a thousand dollars on my hand next month!” — that was the last thing you heard before your vision turned completely blurred and red. you were so angry, but there’s nothing stronger than the feeling of betrayal. he didn’t cheat, but he wasn’t yours.

you remember slamming your feet onto the ground while you attempted to find him. you were rushing to the back of the school, hopefully you could confront him about it. however, you weren’t sure if it was going to be good to see him and confront him, or you just wanted this story to die; breaking up with him with a stupid excuse/reason.

of course you found him; better than ever. his back was turned at you while he was laughing with his friends and you saw a smelly smoke pairing on the air. your breathing pace was very unstable and your chest just made that look even more visible, making you more vulnerable than ever. you watched how his friends mouth dropped when they saw you frowning and looking mad as fuck. thinking they would be intimidated somehow, you were tricked: your boyfriend at the time turned to look at the person who made his friends interested and you saw how his brows raised with a hint of indifference towards you. he couldn’t care less if you had or not found out about their bet.

“what happened?” his tongue poked the right side of his mouth, the small burning cigarette fell onto the ground and was beaten by his white — kinda smudged —, expensive trainers. “have you gotten your thousand dollars?” and he smirked, turning only his head to his friends, laughing — almost like mocking — at your serious tone. “yeah,” he pulled some bucks out of his pocket, lighting up another cigarette as he started counting the dollar bills. “i couldn’t be more happier!” he laughed like a maniac, and you twitched your face in disgust, scoffing as you spit out: “fuck you tae-san!” “oh no! the pathetic kitten is breaking up with me?” he mockingly pouted at your tearing eyes, leaning his body towards your face, analysing how your brows were fighting to hold your anger. your hands were shaking fidgeting your skirt’s hem. “there is really a relationship to break?” you asked with a broken voice, biting onto your bottom lip as a tear ran down your cheek. “for me? nah…” he smoked. “but if we’re talking about you…? mhm… lemme see, what do you guys think huh?!” he laughed at you turning his head to ask his friends, receiving a playful middle finger from one of them.

you were so mad that you couldn’t tell when you wore your big girl pants and slapped the school’s favorite face. you just remember slamming your head against the bus window and waking up with your eyes glued to each other — because of the earlier tears that ran down — ; trying to figure out where you were or wondering how far you were from home. you took a quick look around and yawned, realising that it was already night time and the bus was with a few people — about five people sat in different areas.

you sighed as you remembered the earlier event that hit you like a truck and broke your heart into little pieces, almost impossible to rebuild. you couldn’t get over the pain of a broken trust, and since he was your first boyfriend, you couldn’t tell if that was how love felt like. your parents were divorced and you couldn’t recap when was the last time you saw your dad, leaving you with the thought that the relationship you were in was how love felt like.

lost inside your own head and lost in your thoughts, you just realised someone was calling you because of your phone’s buzz. lazily, you pick up your phone from your jacket’s pocket and picked up, not even bothering to see who was calling. “yes?” your tone was very low and soft, sounding like a whisper. “where are you? your mum called me, she’s worried; she said you didn’t arrive home yet.” your best friend’s voice was rushed and anxious. “jaeyunnie…” you whined, trying to sound silent while holding up your tears. “yeah? what is it mhm?” “i need a hug!” you bursted into tears, hearing jaeyun’s worried hums, not bothering about the other people in the bus going home.

convinced love was going to happen for you, a little bit older you began going out to parties as any 17th year old would start doing. however, your mum started to get worried about your recent developed behaviour. she was worried about you, but clubs seemed to be the only way for you to start socialising and distancing yourself from that image you developed during high school.

your mum really tried to stop you from going out to bars and getting vulnerable around people you didn’t know. she even asked jaeyun to keep an eye on you, but she hesitated, not wanting to bother such a good boy with her concerns. meanwhile, you were meeting new people and hoping you were going to find the prince you always heard about in fairy tales, tired of getting played or never ending with anybody your heart desired.

and guess what? you thought met your prince: a guy named yon-pil; a tattooed man, five years older, black hair, a good smile and flirty. he also had that bad boy essence that you always fell for. funny because in the end you actually fell for him.

yon-pil at the very beginning was a gentleman. always treated you right and cheered you up, until one night he started to talk to you about intimacy, and you said you preferred to leave that subject alone. he accepted your request, but still gave you a dirty look — that you ignored.

everything seemed just fine, until: one day you were at the phone with jaeyun — the call was echoing through the mobile’s speaker since you were washing the dishes —, and then you proceeded to hear the noise of the front door of your boyfriend’s house closing. you didn’t hang up the phone with jaeyun, you stayed on the line humming while he was talking about some adult life concerns he was having and thinking about constantly. yon-pil, hearing the manly voice echo somewhere, rushed to know who it was, laying his eyes on you talking on the phone with some man he didn’t know.

oh boy, that night he argued with you. even though you showed him there was nothing to worry about, he didn’t hear you. or better, he didn’t want to. his eyes were dark that night, and you remember looking at his face with teary eyes and pouty lips as you were begging for mercy. you were just washing the dishes and talking to your friend, was it wrong? well, he made you think it was wrong, and you began to distance yourself from jaeyun. it was a slow process until you started distancing yourself from your other friends, and then there was your mum.

yon-pil also began with little comments about your looks, always comparing you to an random animal he thought were ugly. always concealing everything with cheap apologies, justifying that it was all a joke when you were being hurt by his words. you remember standing in front of the mirror and watching how he would look at your body as if you were a piece of meat, analysing your body and appearance — not to mention the times he would constantly talk about plastic surgeries he would do if he was you.

it stayed like this for about six months until you decided to break up. not just your heart was hurt, but your soul was also hurt because, after reflecting about everything that you went through, you realised you were treated like a piece of meat, a fragile puppet or a piece of trash. yon-pil was so insensitive that, when you broke up with him, he simply shrugged and walked away. at that point you realised you shouldn’t expect more than that from him. you lost six months of your life with an asshole that felt like three years. the most long and sad six months of your life.

thankfully, jaeyun immediately ran to meet you at a convenience store — localised nearby to jaeyun’s family’s place. even though you had distanced yourself from him as much as you could, he still stayed with you and heard you; when your “boyfriend” couldn’t even stand hear a simple explanation about your relationship with jaeyun, lost in his psyche mind and ignoring your words. but of course your best friend would be the one to hug you that night and feel how hurt you are. reality hit him hard when he realised how hurt you were that time after hearing how much you were sobbing against his chest. he realised your heart was broken while your soul seemed lost.

welcome to your twenties y/n! wow, good job falling again! when you completed eighteen years old your met a guy the same age as you. he was tall, funny, charming, and this time you felt actually loved. he was always cheering you up and even talking about marriage with you sometimes. his name was norman and he was half korean/american. norman was handsome: his eyes were blue and his body was kinda build up; different from many men out there.

however, he was always crowded by women due to his handsomeness and different appeal — since he were mixed —, and at first you were pretty chill about it, trusting on your partner with your heart and soul. but it became annoying and an rock on the way, making you a feeling like jealous and having a lot of trusting issues. the way he was constantly smiling at his phone — assuming he was texting someone —, his instagram inbox always full and his feed filled with photos of women in tiny bikinis, and much more things.

considering every single relationship you’ve been through your life — always unhealthy —, made you have many doubts when hearing his “sincere” words towards your accusations of cheating; or looking for other women. every time you went to confront him about his own actions, he would say that you were seeing things and that you didn’t trust on him — even having the courage to one day talk back to you, yelling that having insecurities when he’s being loyalty was worse than cheating. and there you go: answers.

hearing just what you needed to quit this relationship, you said you wanted to break up two days later after considering your own feelings and trying to protect the few pieces your heart was holding still. since you found out about norman’s toxicity and remembering everything you already been through — since high school — you got triggered and had your first serious anxiety crisis mixed with years bottled emotions; so you basically exploded into panic and got extremely overwhelmed.

norman, before leaving you alone, made you think that you were crazy and you were wrong about him. at first you cursed him inside your mind, even calling him an asshole, but as the days go by your mind began to sabotage you; making you think you were wrong somehow for doubting his loyalty towards you.

“it might hurt, but you gotta let him go, y/n. i miss my best friend y/nnie…” jaeyun whispered behind the phone’s speaker, hearing your sobs. “i miss you, and yourself must miss you too…”

“maybe love isn’t for me yun…” you muttered sniffling. “maybe i don’t have a soulmate.”

“stop saying nonsense things– ugh, can’t imagine you crying over someone else! i’m coming over.” and jaeyun hung up, leaving you laid on your bed, tears wetting your pillow case and your body drowning into pure numbness. you were feeling anesthetised.

was jaeyun actually worried for you or he was just taking care of your vulnerable self for pity? was this the feeling of a heartbreak or the loss of a true love? you felt like confusion was being mistaken by insanity.

“i don’t know– i just can’t understand how i feel Mr. Kwang...” the therapist sighed as he took off his glasses, gazing at your frowned face.

“look y/n, i can see how much you try to stay strong and hold your feelings to yourself as i said the first time you’ve been here;” two years ago. “with the fear of making others worried about you, and eventually having the feeling of bothering them.” the old man sighed once again, tapping his fingers on the clipboard placed on his lap. you just kept nodding your head, already knowing that. “you mentioned earlier that–” the professional seemed to take a breathe interrupting himself, thinking twice before speaking to you. “you were almost sure that you were destined to die alone, why would you think that?” he frowned. “i mean, i know your motives, but i wanna know why; why do you think that? why don’t you deserve love, y/n?” and you felt a cold tear streaming down your face, touching your soft skin and conflicting with your burning cheek; that was overwhelmed by all those memories you held.

“as i sad Mr. Kwang, i don’t know how to explain it.” you shook your head, gesturing with your hands.

“have you thought that you just haven’t find the right person yet?” he raised his brows and you were left dumbfounded, not sure on how to reply the therapist for the abstinence of reflection. after a few minutes sharing an awkward silence. “alright, this is your homework for today:” Mr. Kwang pulled out a page from the clipboard he was carrying after writing something below, eventually handing you the paper. “reflect and don’t just suffer, suffering is the reflection of how you deal with your problems, so start taking deep breaths before doing something under those heated moments; is that okay?” he softly smiled, trying to reassure if you were agreeing with his proposal.

“…okay.” you whispered, bowing as you thanked Mrs. Kwang and walked out of the therapy room.

“everything okay miss?” the sympathetic secretary asked, smiling at you while typing on her keyboard lifting her gaze to glance at you.

you purses your lips and proceeding to nod your head very gently. “good to know!” she enthusiastically replied standing up from her chair and walking past the counter that once had hidden her figure. carrying some papers to hand you: “here sweetie. this are medicine prescriptions that Mrs. Kwang has given you; but, you only need or take these when you are having an violent crisis, alright? don’t abuse and take care– oh!” her gaze switched from you to the exit glass door. “your boyfriend must have arrived~” the sweet lady whispered at you like it was a deep secret she held for you, holding in a playful suspicious giggle, walking back to the back of her position — behind the counter.

“oh he’s not–”

“hey princess,” the front glass door was opened and your eyes laid on your best friend’s figure, all smiley. “let’s go?”

you twitched your upper lip, feeling like universe was trying to make you embarrass yourself as you were just about to deny the relationship allegations: proved wrong — under other people’s eyes — because of the pet name jaeyun has called you. as he walked in, the secretary mouth’s was left open as she observed how handsome he was under the sunlight’s shadow.

“hello.” he waved at the young lady behind the counter, and she waved back, but his eyes were already looking at you. “let’s go.” jaeyun took your hand without even hesitating. “do you have anything else to do today?” your best friend paused completing his proposal: “wanna take you out for dinner today…” he murmured, giggling at his own plan with you as he began walking towards the exit holding your hand — plus: leaning his head a little bit back like he was melting with the sight of how your eyes were shining; a shine that he always cherished and missed so many times when he was rubbing your back as you cried and vented against his chest.

you couldn’t deny that jaeyun was handsome, and your crush during your childhood. as that being said, seeing him wearing his black sunglasses was tempting, almost like you were fighting against your childhood feelings again — feeling like a pure little girl again.

“um… goodbye!” you shyly waved at the secretary with a embarrassed smile plastered across your face. she had a delayed reaction because she was enchanted by the man beside’s you beauty, but waved back and smiled at you.

“bye!” jaeyun waved at the lady behind the counter — he didn’t know — without showing much of interest on her, but you couldn’t ignore how her cheeks got red as she glanced at his lips; politely smiling at her.

“how are you doing?” jaeyun’s voice was heard after a long moment of silence. his face was drifted to the streets, careful with the traffic, but still taking the chance to glance at you by the corner of his eyes.

“i’m doing fine.” you simply answered, gazing at the — almost — night sky.

you felt jaeyun’s gaze burn onto your cheek and he said: “are you sure?” he paused a second just to turn left. “that’s like,” he hummed as he thought. “what you say every single time i ask you this.” he chuckled, but not that humoured.

“nah, i’m fine.” you shrugged and flashed your head at him just to scrunch your nose, letting out a breathy laugh when you heard his silent giggle, relaxing against the car’s seat and melting into a smile.

“how about your mum? have you been talking to her recently?” jaeyun felt how your body tensed. oh shit…

“yeah, i talked with her last sunday…” you murmured, pursing your lips as you recaptured the meeting.

“mhm. what did she talked about with you?” he was curious because your mum usually talks about her personal life with your best friend instead of you, afraid that she might be disappointed with you one more time. she felt like a failure of mum when she saw how broke you looked when you broke up with yon-pil.

“well,” you sighed as your head dropped to your lap, fidgeting with your own fingers. “she said she’s moving to busan; her hometown…” your eyes laid on your best friend’s not surprised gaze. “she probably has told you…” you whispered, chuckling with a bit of disbelief; like a sad scoff.

due to his silence you interpreted as an honest “yes” coming out from his mouth. jaeyun was way too pure to confess he held this secret from you — your mum’s order. he was sad that your mum would be moving to another place, even if it is still inside korea, it is not the same thing.

"how are you feeling about this whole situation?" jaeyun carefully asked.

you sighed before replying: "i don't know how i feel; my feelings are numb since my grandparents death." you let out a sad chuckle cringing your shoulders. "and don't even get me started with the pressure my mum has been pushing on me to get married." you rolled your eyes annoyingly, turning your gaze back to the jaeyun's car window.

your best friend pursed his lips, a little bit hesitant because he didn't know if he could continue this conversation or it was time to change topics. "did i make you uncomfortable asking you that?" hearing his nervous voice, you looked at him with a soft frown, confused why he was worried about it.

"no worries yun," you waved your hand. "my therapist says that i have to discuss about it with myself to reflect on how my feelings are working right now." you shrugged nodding your head at your own explanation. "so, i think it's good for me to be confronted about some topics..." you pouted as you continued to nod your head, this time gazing at the front window just like the boy beside you. "if you're curious about something, just ask me; i know is been a while since we talked about our problems." you chuckled, trying to keep a good energy in your — kinda sad — last explanation.

he sighed before nodding his head as he made a turn to park his car at the barbecue's house parking lot. "dinner's on me today, let's go."

both of you walked in the barbecue house and were greeted by one of the employees. the restaurant seemed to be full of people, and it has been proven even from the outside of the place — the entrance was crowded. "how can i help you guys?" a black haired boy — with a sweaty forehead — wearing round glasses asked while holding a little stack of papers approached.

"hello, um, i have made an reservation under the name 'jaeyun', could you check it for me man?" the employee nodded with his head and told him to wait a minute with a gesture, apparently he was going to ask one of his colleagues if they could check it for him; since he was kinda busy with the costumers entering the restaurant and constantly ordering something from the menu.

a different employee approached this time, but the black haired guy could still be seen walking by her side. it was a young lady that was wearing a red lipstick and wearing her hair on a pretty bun. "this is mina and she's gonna guide you guys to our reserved area, thank you so much for your patience." he bowed after introducing the — perhaps/look like — waitress, returning to his resigned job.

"thank you!" jaeyun shouted as he thanked the gentle employee.

"may i know your names?" she gently asked, smiling at you.

"mine is jaeyun and she is..." he waited for you to introduce yourself.

"y/n." you smiled-pursed your lips as you shyly replied.

"nice to meet you; follow me please." she turned her back at both of you as she began walking and guiding both of you to the private/reserved area. "are you two a couple?" the red lip lady asked with her back still facing you and jaeyun.

jaeyun glanced at you by the corner of his eyes. realising you were having the same ‘i don’t know what to say’ reaction, he took the hint to answer the waitress: “oh… we’re just friends for now…” and he giggled, trying to sound playful, making the young lady laugh.

“there you go love birds.” she playfully spoke, making you slightly cringe, softly smiling at her when she switched her gaze to you. “your friend jaeyun seems to be a good guy; and good guys are a blessing.” giggling she whispered at you ( not in a very silent way ). “if it feels right, them just let it!” before she walked away her hands turned into fists, like she was encouraging you to open your heart.

were you blessed with a good guy? all this time? hold back y/n, don’t confuse your clingy feelings with love.

“sorry about that…” jaeyun spoke with an embarrassed tone and a half-hearted smile.

you shook your head and let out a humoured laugh, “it’s okay, there is nothing to apologise about.” you blinked your eyes at him, reassuring that you weren’t bothered.

“oh…” his half-hearted smile turned into that smile you always cherished on your bad days. “so, what does my–this–” he paused trying to figure out your reaction, hoping you weren’t mad at him for calling you his. “yeah, my damsel would want to order?” he gently pursed his lips with a closed smile — trying to hold back this giddy feeling — after analysing for a second your soft smile at him.

after ordering a variety of beef and finishing off with a delicious and spicy tteokbbokki, jaeyun couldn’t forget to order a beer and an alcoholic beverage — like soju. you weren’t drunk, neither him, but you — in special — wasn’t completely sober: always giggling when the guy in front of you tells you a simple joke or life story. there was a moment where you were almost falling asleep on your knuckles and jaeyun observed how your eyes were heavy and close to shut, giggling at your cuteness. hearing his giggle you giggled with him, turning everything into a giggly mess.

and even not very sober, you could remember a time when you were telling something to jaeyun and he took your hand across the table, rubbing your knuckles as he took a sip on his beer. fuck, when did he get this attractive? oh my gosh. were you turning back into the old in love with my best friend y/n? it can’t be…

“y/n, are you okay?” nod. “are you sure?” nod. “your eyes seems heavy, are you sleepy?”

“no,” your head fell onto the table without hesitation. “i’m totally fine.” your voice was muffled since your mouth was fighting against the woody table.

and the last thing you heard was a gasp. perhaps you were drunk? very drunk?

“yun! let’s go back! i wanna drink mooore!” you whined, but wasn’t fighting against jaeyun’s arms as he carried you back home. — bride style.

“we can drink more another time, yeah baby?” oh shit, how sexy that sounded.

“yun…” you whispered as you heard a digital lock beeping and the sound of a door opening. “are we home?” you asked throwing your arms to hug him, almost falling from his grip.

“yeah, we are home.” you felt your forehead being pecked. “okay, you’ll have to help me yeah? i can’t leave you like this.” he whispered the last part after gently laying you onto the soft cushion of your sofa.

"wait," your drunken self spoke, gesturing with your hand for him to stop and switching to a sitting position, gazing at jaeyun this time. "are you leaving me?" you unconsciously pouted as your eyes closed and tears were running down your face. "why are you leaving?" you whined like a cry baby. "did i make something wrong? i'm sorry if i did!"

"no y/n, look," you felt big and warm hands cup your wet cheeks and a burning sensation made you open your eyes. "i'm just leaving your place, okay? i'll see you tomorrow, i don't want to intrude your privacy; is that okay?" he gently leaned and placed a kiss onto your forehead, looking at you with big eyes as he waited for your response; never forgetting to rub his thumbs against the skin of your red cheeks. "princess, is that okay?" jaeyun watched your eyes with intensity, wanting to know what your thoughts sounded like — and maybe find out why you were looking at him with such a intense gaze. he even looked down and checked himself to see if something has happened to his clothes for your eyes be so glued to his figure, but there was nothing to fix or worry about.

"okay..." your nod was followed by your gaze being suddenly dropped towards your best friend's lips, like when a magnet meeting iron.

"okay, i won't change your clothing but i can lead you to the bathroom, brush your teeth and get you ready to bed alright?" he watched your nod, smiling at your positive response.

with that, jaeyun picked you up and walked into your house's bathroom, sitting you down onto the toilet's lid. he proceeded to turn his back at you as his laid onto your toothbrush. after squeezing some toothpaste onto your toothbrush's bristles, he gently approached you and lifted your chin.

"can i?" he asked in a playful way as he shook the toothbrush's handle between his thumb and point finger.

"i wanna sleep..." you spoke with a groggy voice. jaeyun pursed his lips as he realised how heavy your head was against the touch of his fingers.

"i'll take that as an yes."

jaeyun brushed your teeth and tied your hair into a bun. he removed he mascara you were wearing and took off your jacked, leaving you with a simple tee and your jeans. he couldn't help to feel guilty about leaving you with these uncomfortable clothes, but he knew he would feel even more guilty if he had changed your clothes without your consent. he ended up handing you a glass of water: that you drank after a ton of groans and tired whines.

"there you go." your best friend groaned as he placed you onto your bed's cushion. "thanks for being my company tonight baby, i hope you feel better tomorrow." he whispered, covering your body with your blanket. "i'm leaving okay? rest well baby, i'll come here tomorrow and leave you a hangover medicine, how does that sound?" he was constantly asking for your opinion — even though you were not in a good condition — because he wanted to make sure you were knowing what was happening around.

before he could walk out of your room after placing a kiss onto your forehead for the third time this night, jaeyun heard your sweet, yet sleepy, voice call his name.

"jaeyun...?" he turned to look at you.

"what is it babe?"

"what if i say you look super attractive and i want to kiss you? would that sound weird?"

and that was the last thing your mind could remember after you woke up with your best friend's body way too close to yours.

© 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞 , originals — 24.

taglist: @jakesangel , @laylasbunbunny , @jaeyunpinkyring-deactivated2024 . . .

[carleycore]

When they insult you (Osamu and Kageyama)

A/N It's been a while since I've done this series so hehe

Genre: Hurt/comfort Angst

Warnings: Insults obvi

Part one Part two Part three Part four

(being too clingy)

The bustling noise of Onigiri Miya's kitchen is a familiar symphony to you. You sit at the counter, watching Osamu expertly prepare a new batch of rice balls. His usual focused expression is slightly strained today, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to the long hours he has been working lately.

"Do you need any help, 'Samu?" you ask, hoping to ease his burden.

Osamu barely glances at you, shaking his head. "No, I got it," he replies curtly.

You frown but decide to give him space. You know running a restaurant is stressful, and Osamu has been pushing himself too hard. You want to be there for him, to support him, but he has been increasingly distant.

"Are you sure?" you press gently. "I can help with the orders, or maybe clean up a bit."

"I said no, (Y/N)," Osamu snaps, his voice sharp. "Just stay out of the way."

Taken aback, you recoil as if you have been struck. Hurt flashes across your face, but you bite your lip, trying to keep your composure. "Okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

You stand up, intending to give him the space he seems to need, but Osamu's next words stop you in your tracks.

"Why do you always have to be so clingy?" he mutters under his breath, though loud enough for you to hear. "I can’t deal with this right now. You’re just making things harder by hovering."

Tears well up in your eyes. "Clingy?" you repeat, your voice trembling. "I'm just trying to help, Osamu. You've been working non-stop, and I thought you could use some support."

"Well, you're not helping," he retorts, slamming a rice ball onto the counter. "You're just making everything more stressful by constantly being here and trying to do things your way."

The silence that follows is heavy and suffocating. You stare at him, your heart aching. Without another word, you turn and leave the restaurant, the bell above the door jingling sadly as it closes behind you.

Hours pass, and the sun has long since set by the time Osamu finally closes up for the night. Exhaustion weighs heavily on him, but the memory of your hurt expression gnaws at his conscience. He knows he has crossed a line.

When he arrives at your apartment, he hesitates for a moment before knocking. The door opens slowly, and you stand there, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Hey," Osamu says softly, his voice filled with regret.

You look at him, a mix of sadness and anger in your eyes. "What do you want, Osamu?"

"I wanted to apologize," he says, stepping closer but stopping when he sees you tense. "I was out of line. You were just trying to help, and I lashed out. I’m so sorry, (Y/N)."

You cross your arms, looking away. "You really hurt me, Osamu," you say quietly. "I know you're stressed, but that doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that."

"I know," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "I've been under a lot of pressure, but that's no excuse. I should have appreciated your help instead of pushing you away."

A tear slips down your cheek, and Osamu reaches out, gently wiping it away with his thumb. "I love you, (Y/N)," he says earnestly. "I don’t want to lose you because of my stupid mistakes."

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. Slowly, you uncross your arms and step closer. "I love you too, Osamu," you murmur. "But you need to let me in. We're a team, remember?"

Osamu nods, pulling you into his arms. "I promise I’ll do better," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want to push you away ever again."

You hug him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace soothing your aching heart. "Just talk to me next time, okay?" you whisper. "We’ll get through it together."

Osamu holds you close, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. "I will," he vows. "Together."

As you stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, the hurt begins to melt away, replaced by a renewed sense of closeness and understanding. You know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as you face them together, you'll be okay.

(misplaced anger)

You stand by the kitchen counter, finishing up the dishes from dinner. The clinking of plates and running water are the only sounds in the otherwise quiet apartment. It's been a long day for both of you, and the tension in the air is palpable. Kageyama sits at the dining table, staring intently at his phone, his brows furrowed in frustration.

"Tobio, is everything okay?" you ask, drying your hands on a towel. "You seem upset."

"I'm fine," he replies curtly, not looking up from his phone.

You sigh, walking over to him. "You don't seem fine. If something's bothering you, you can talk to me."

He finally looks up, his eyes dark with irritation. "I said I'm fine, (Y/N). Why do you always have to make everything a big deal?"

His words sting, but you try to remain calm. "I'm just worried about you. You've been on edge lately, and I want to help."

"Help?" he scoffs, standing up abruptly. "The only thing you're doing is making things worse. I don't need you hovering over me all the time."

Your heart aches at his harsh tone. "I'm just trying to be there for you, Tobio. We're supposed to support each other."

"Support?" he snaps, his voice rising. "All you do is nag and worry. It's suffocating, (Y/N). Sometimes, I just need space."

The words hang heavily in the air, each one cutting deeper than the last. Tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them away, not wanting to break down in front of him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I didn't realize I was making you feel that way."

Kageyama's expression softens slightly, but his frustration is still evident. "I just... I need some time to myself, okay?"

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Okay, I'll give you space."

Without another word, you turn and leave the room, heading to the bedroom. You close the door behind you and sink onto the bed, tears streaming down your face. The ache in your chest is overwhelming, and you clutch a pillow tightly, trying to find some comfort in its softness.

Hours pass, and the apartment remains silent. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of Kageyama's words pressing heavily on your heart. You want to support him, to be there for him, but it feels like everything you do is wrong.

A soft knock on the door breaks the silence. "Y/N?" Kageyama's voice is gentle, hesitant. "Can I come in?"

You sit up, wiping your tears away. "Yeah."

The door opens slowly, and he steps inside, his expression filled with regret. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I shouldn't have said those things. I was frustrated and took it out on you. It's not your fault."

You look at him, your eyes still glistening with tears. "I just wanted to help, Tobio. I hate seeing you stressed."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I've been under a lot of pressure with training and everything, but that's no excuse for how I treated you. You were just trying to be supportive, and I pushed you away."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "I love you, Tobio. I want to be there for you, but you need to let me in. We’re a team."

He squeezes your hand, his eyes filled with guilt and affection. "I love you too, (Y/N). I'm sorry for hurting you. I'll do better, I promise."

You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. He holds you tightly, his warmth comforting and familiar. "Just talk to me next time, okay?" you whisper against his shoulder. "We’ll get through it together."

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I will. Together."

As you hold each other, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a renewed sense of closeness and understanding. You know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as you face them together, you'll be okay.

[memento-rory]

333 w/schlatt 😼

𝟑𝟑𝟑. 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰? 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭.

𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓?

no one ever expected you and schlatt to get together, including you.

the two of you are complete opposites. it’s a classic tale of kind, quiet girl meets opinionated, loud boy.

you can’t count how many times you’ve been compared to the equivalent of a real-life disney princess, with how thoughtful and soft you are. heartfelt commercials make you cry, seeing old people in a restaurant booth by themselves tugs at your heartstrings, you pick up every single stray dog or cat you come across on the road.

schlatt misses no opportunity to poke fun about these qualities of yours, and of course, that means the two of you don’t really get along. it’s not that you outwardly show this, but you don’t ever seek him out for this reason. you don’t really like being around him, point blank period.

but one night, that all changes.

schlatt finds you in the corner at a party, anxiously picking at your cuticles, your social battery dangerously low. you’re trying not to have a full blown panic attack, trying to stick it out for the night because you’d promised ted that you’d stay the whole evening.

“hey,” schlatt’s voice is soft as he sidles up to you, reaching a hand out to stop your picking, “y’alright?”

“yeah,” you plaster on a fake smile, “i’m all good.”

schlatt eyes you knowingly. “don’t gimme that. i can tell somethin’s up.”

“schlatt, i’m okay, really.” you lie again, your big smile not wavering. (you’ve gotten real good at pretending.)

schlatt’s not buying it. “c’mon,” he says, putting his arm around your shoulder, “let’s get you some fresh air.”

you let schlatt lead you outside, because some fresh air really could probably do you some good, even if it means you’re stuck with schlatt for a while.

schlatt sits you down in a lawn chair out in the yard, before taking a seat in the other chair next to you. “wasn’t expecting this many people to show up. ted told me that it was supposed to be small.”

you let out a quiet laugh. ted had told you the same thing, that he’d been told it would be small. you should have known better. most youtubers didn’t do small. “i thought you’d thrive in big crowds like this.” you mention to schlatt.

schlatt makes a face. “fuck no. i’m an introvert, toots. this shit is, like, my worst fuckin’ nightmare.”

this shocks you, and it must show on your face, because schlatt laughs at your expression. “i know i have this whole shtick goin’, but i’m not some asshole, i promise.”

you ponder on his words for a moment. you suppose he’s right, because he obviously was kind enough to bring you outside, knowing you were on the verge of panicking.

you and schlatt spend the rest of the evening out in the yard, away from the crowd. you talk about anything and everything, and he’s so open and honest with you that you can literally feel a switch flip in your chest.

you had no idea he was such a genuine guy, and after learning this, the man in front of you is about fifty times hotter.

as the night draws to a close, schlatt stands up to escort you back inside, taking your hand to help you up. sparks fly as he touches you, and you feel your skin heat up.

“we should do this again sometime.” schlatt remarks, smiling down at you, “maybe somewhere a little more private.”

you smile back up at him. “yeah, i’d like that.”

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒚𝒂 — 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒉𝒐'𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘.

[mopopshop]

We Found Love (DT x OC)

based on this request <-

thank you for being patient w me🙏🏾🙏🏾 this is pretty short and not my favorite but I hope you enjoy 🤞🏾

The days blur together as you try to adjust to life without Diana in the house. Each passing moment feels like an eternity, the silence weighing heavier than ever. You go through the motions of your daily routine, but everything feels hollow without her presence.

One evening, a week after Diana left, your phone buzzes with a text. It's from her.

Diana: Can we meet? I think we need to talk.

Your heart pounds as you stare at the message. You hesitate for a moment before typing a response.

You: Okay. Where and when?

She replies quickly.

Diana: Our spot. Tomorrow at 6.

"Our spot" is a small park near the apartment, where you two used to go for walks and talk about everything and nothing. The thought of returning there fills you with a mix of dread and hope.

The next day, you arrive at the park a few minutes early. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the familiar surroundings. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you wait for Diana.

When she arrives, she looks as tired as you feel. Her usually confident stride is hesitant, and she seems just as anxious as you are.

"Hey," she says softly, stopping a few feet away from you.

"Hey," you reply, your voice equally quiet.

There's an awkward silence before Diana finally speaks again. "I've been doing a lot of thinking."

"Me too," you say, meeting her gaze.

She nods, taking a deep breath. "I know I've been neglecting you, Niyah. I know I haven't been the partner you deserve."

Tears well up in your eyes at her admission. "Diana, I just... I miss you. I miss us."

She looks away, her jaw tightening. "I miss us too. But I don't know how to balance everything. I don't know how to be everything you need me to be without losing a part of myself."

"You don't need to be perfect, D" you say, reaching out to touch her hand. "I just need you to try. I need to know that I'm important to you, that our relationship matters."

She looks down at your hand, then back up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and determination. "I do care, Niyah. I care so much. I just... I get so caught up in things, I forget to show it."

You squeeze her hand gently. "We both made mistakes. But we can learn from them. We can try to find a way to make this work."

Diana takes a step closer, her eyes searching yours. "I want to try, just be patient with me”

You nod, tears spilling over as she pulls you into a tight embrace, and for the first time in weeks, you feel a glimmer of hope. "I promise, I'll do better. We'll figure this out together."

For the first time in a long while, you feel like there's a future for you and Diana. It won't be perfect, but it will be yours, and that’s all that matters.

———

[neerons]

Some of Leon Dompteur's best quotes

"Leon Dompteur. My favorite food is meat and alcohol. Hmm? Alcohol isn't food? Haha, that's true."

"You can imagine I'm some fictional character you like if that works better."

"Never mind the roses—it feels like I'm the one wilting without you in my arms. What then? What if I shrivel up and die while you're gone?"

"(...) Well, I'd rather be liked by you than a bunch of random women."

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight? Hey, I just meant sleeping! What were you thinking?"

"I swear, you're the bravest woman I've ever met. (...) I promise, we'll bring you home. That's the one thing I'm not backing down on. And... Don't do anything reckless." (—Leon telling Emma he'll save her along with his brothers from Obsidian)

"If you're struggling, it's okay to show me. I'm not gonna think less of you for it. So don't force yourself to smile."

"No running, no hiding, no looking away. If you need to cry, look at me and cry."

"When I opened my eyes again, I gazed at the woman before me in awe. She was so stunning that I regretted closing my eyes and even blinking." (—Leon's thoughts)

"I've always wanted to see you in a dress that I picked out... then strip you."

"(...) I'll come duel with you as soon as I'm done here." (—Leon keeping his promise to Licht)

"Good girl."

"But... I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you... for so long."

"A special skill of mine, huh...? Oh, there's one I can think of right away. I bet I could beat anyone at competitive eating."

"I don't blame him for being charmed, though. She's just that amazing. Emma, you have no idea how much your presence means to me." (—Leon's thoughts about Jin and Emma)

"Good work. Even if no one else is watching you work hard, I will. Okay?"

"You must have taken quite a liking to her to go warning her like that. It was nice of you." (—Leon talking about Emma to Chevalier)

"Why don't I save everyone a lot of trouble and cut the lot of you down right now?" (—Leon to drunken men)

"Ever since I met you... the me I thought I'd killed... the me I thought was gone... he can't stop shouting to the heavens how happy he is."

"Owwww! What the hell? (...) you could at least wake me up some other way." (—Leon being woken up by Chevalier)

"I think it's actually kind of cute. It's meant to look like a rabbit, right?" (—Leon talking about Clavis' food to Clavis, Emma and Nokto)

"I can finally tell you what I've always wanted to tell you. Emma... I love you."

"What matters is that you haven't become a victim for the kingdom. Just knowing that is enough to reassure me. (...) She knew none of you would welcome her, yet she came here as the emperor's representative, to find peace for us all. Is there any of you with more resolve than that?" (—Leon defending Emma during an official meeting)

"Accepting who you are, and being able to open your heart to the people you love—that's what makes us strong."

"(...) I want to flirt with you. Please?"

"I can't be the only one left with a one-track mind. I need you to be as crazy for me as I am for you." (—Leon's thoughts)

"Sorry, I know I sound like a broken record, but you look so fine in that beautiful dress. I wish I had a picture of you to frame."

"She's the silver lining in my clouds, my sun who makes my future bright. When I think about her, I'm filled with the courage to face whatever may come my way. She's truly an amazing woman and the light of my life." (—Leon talking about Emma)

"Maybe instead of the one doing the savoring, you'd prefer to be savored?"

"I adore you. Even if I were to make the entire world my enemy, I'll never let go of you."

"I want to melt you with my touch until you're left crying my name into the night." (—Leon's thoughts)

"I want you to be at my side just as you are, I want you to be my queen just as you are."

"There's only one thing that I can think of that would help stop me being so reckless. (...) Mmm... I don't know, it seems a bit too easy to just go ahead and tell you. Why don't you guess? (...) And every time you get it wrong, I get to kiss or touch you. How does that sound? (...) Can you even think coherently when you're this wet and needy?"

"Honestly, you can call for me even if nothing happens. I don't mind. I'd still gladly come running."

"Every time we touch, every time we kiss, every time we say we love each other, my feelings for you grow stronger."

"If we continue, you're going to see me possibly the horniest I've ever been in my life."

"Sorry, kid, but you were born way too late. Plus, she's already spoken for. But at least he has good taste." (—Leon's thoughts about a boy asking Emma to marry him)

"You're so beautiful that I don't know what to do with myself."

"I'm so harsh on you first thing in the morning, aren't I? (...) I ate my fill, but now I already want you again."

[justanotherhh]

things about the episode:

I mean, yeah, it's setting up the next stage of the slowburn -- they are now officially no longer together, but they understand one another a little better (and blitzø is getting a sense of what he wants even if he's not ready for it at the moment/may think currently it'll never happen. that is a big step up from "refuses to admit it to himself" from one episode ago), meaning they can go through their stories and meet up again further down the road with more ability to deal with.... some stuff

verosika getting her say has been a want of mine ever since her first appearance, and this really delivered on that (all while prominently showing her crossed-out blitzø tattoo), and it also gave the feeling that maybe this has been catharsis for her, so she can move on from how he treated her

EDIT: also verosika and stolas being pals is good for me personally! we really got some good verosika Stuff here, she saw that awkward bird in the corner and hyped him up and was backup singer to his poprock song and smiled when he got some, what a woman!

if dennis is at this party, then im gonna go ahead and headcanon that some of these guests are fucking hanger-ons who only barely qualify (although clearly many of them aren't)

stolas is someone who... definitely loves blitzø. but is also quite naive and internal, as has been shown. and i think that means that he can't quite understand everything that blitzø is actually saying beneath the things that hurt him, although now a little better than before, and i think going out and getting laid and "feeling wanted" by some other guy/s is probably good for him in order to get out of his own head more

the apology tour highlights were absolutely wonderful, from doing drag at the in memoriam at the awards show, to ms mayberry and martha making it work -- all sorts find each other in hell, eh

im interested in the idea of an apology tour (regardless of how much blitzø "means" any of it until stolas and verosika) in the grand scheme of blitzø actually mending fences -- and trying to mend fences -- with a few characters already. verosika now ofc, but also fizz, and moxxie back in truth seekers, and he did try to reach out to barbie wire. there's clearly some part of him that's trying to make it work in his various relationships and has been growing and changing up until this point (this also includes loona and millie, whom he's attempted to have decent relationships with since the beginning of the show)

generally to me this feels like an episode that'll gain a lot more from where things are going -- it's promising certain things from blitzø and stolas moving forwards, so i think once the rest of the season is out it'll be fun to go back and rewatch it as a part of that arc/see how this set up those next steps (and who knows, maybe we'll get to see verosika again, possibly making out with barbie wire)

cannot believe blitzø thought calling stolas a homosexual in meme-format would work, babe you are floundering (can you imagine what loona, millie, moxxie, and fizz must be making of all of this??????? I wonder if he's told them yet)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Spoiled Brat Child Reader | Platonic Yandere Twisted Wonderland

“You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mom!”

It’s alarming for a child to be brought to a world completely different from their own

It’s just as alarming when that child is good at getting what they want

“Aren’t I generous–”

“This is it? What are you some poor old featherduster? Is this really all you can do for the child you practically abducted with your weirdo mirror ceremony un-believable.”

You fit right in at NRC

Stomping your foot and pointing your little gloved fingers 

You have way too much ease when it comes to confronting your seniors

Already surviving and rumored to have started Overeblots

Gathering rows of thralls friends that take it upon themselves to be the big brothers you need try and instill some disciplines

And oddly enough the ones to do it first surprisingly  are those at Scarabia

“Oh (Y/n)! Look at you in your little Scarabia clothes, it looks so good on you.”

“Hmph no it doesn’t I look poor. I wanna wear something else!”

“But you do look cute, promise!”

“I don’t care! Something else!”

“...(Y/n)...”

“Shut up you shouldn’t get to talk to me, servant!”

“(Y/N)!? Apologize!”

It’s really bad at first when rotations have you staying with them

Kalim like so many others is enamored by your cuteness and is usually at your whim

But the minute you take it too far with Jamil especially after his Overblot

Before the Overblot Jamil would just try to hypnotize you or play into your bossy attitude

He’s already watching an overgrown child so why not bratty one too

After his overblot though the guilt from endangering little you has him oddly quiet when you take your jabs at him too far

It’s Kalim who steps up

Doing something he didn’t even do when Jamil had plots to take over the dorm

Get Mad

“(Y/N) THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT OKAY! JAMIL DOES SO MUCH FOR YOU AND YOU ARE BEING SO UNGRATEFUL! YOU NEED TO APOLOGIZE NOW.”

The dorm is absolutely quiet

As you nervously shuffle your feet

The thing about being bratty and spoiled is that you almost never get corrected 

Like ever 

So when one of your most avid spoilers turns around to lay down the law

It’s surprising

So surprising you just might cry

“I….I….I…Waaahhahhhhh!!! I’sorry Jamil! Sorry! Sorry! I love you still! Sorry don’t be mad at me!”

Crying into Jamil’s jacket for an hour or two before you’re sleeping 

Kalim is silently crying to himself as he’s certain you’ll never smile at him again

But he doesn’t plan to apologize either he doesn’t feel sorry for defending Jamil

He just hopes he can stand his ground

Jamil on the other hand is beyond amused

It doesn’t really hurt him when a child who stomps and whines about trivial things starts making fun of him

Even having just survived his Overblot he knows it’s nothing but hot air 

He already knows you like him because despite being a 'servant' you’ll follow him around to tell him about something silly Grim did

But the way Kalim actually spoke some sense into you suprises him a lot

He was just going to quickly hypnotize you to listen when he glared at you 

But this was so much better

It ended with you clinging to him promising you’ll behave and that you are grateful for him

“I really really really am, Jamil!”

“I know.”

“I really really really really am!”

“I know Habibi, sleep please.”

“Okay….only if you stay with me though.”

Come next morning you’ll shyly greet Kalim hiding behind Grim or Jamil 

Until its time for you to draw something for him while you sit a little bit closer

“Here…”

“Oh uh thank you.”

“It’s…a picture of us…Me and carpet drew it to uh…apologize for misbehaving. Do you…forgive me?”

“......”

“Kalim?”

“Waahaahha! Oh (Y/n) you’re a sweet angel yes I do!”

Kalim’s unbelievably happy and Jamil is so so prideful 

He is the one taking you hand-in-hand while you apologize for some of the more heinous things you’ve said or done

“I–er–well I…”

“Out with it, (Y/n).”

“O..okay. I’m sorry Ruggie for calling you poor.”

“Wow I didn’t think you’d ever do something like that. Are you sick?”

“I actually really like dandelions too…I tried one after I saw you trying it.”

“....(Y/n)! If you don’t mind being poor you can come home with me next break.”

“Really–”

“Ah-ah no you don’t.”

For this Crowely suddenly is much more willing to give the dorm a bit more leeway when it comes to taking care of you

But if the other dorms have anything to say about it that won’t be the case for long

[artofhazbinhotel]

Controversial opinion: I don't like Stolas and I don't want stolitz to become a relationship

Neither of them are 100% in the right, I know that, this isn't because I love Blitz, I don't really care, but Stolas has always got on my nerves. First he makes a sex deal with a guy while he can clearly see he's running for his life and not into it. The deal is the only way Blitz can do his job, that's sexual coercion! Don't believe me? Here's the definition:

"Sexual coercion is unwanted sexual activity that happens when you are pressured, tricked, threatened, or forced in a nonphysical way. Coercion can make you think you owe sex to someone. It might be from someone who has power over you, like a teacher, landlord, or a boss."

Stolas doesn't see it this way but in the beginning of course blitz did and why wouldn't he? It doesn't matter if it was consensual, Stolas has power over him so he'd assume he owes it, he even shows this mindset in full moon where he thinks Stolas is taking the book because he wasn't satisfying him.

Stolas was constantly calling him degrading names too "my little imp" -murder family "my little impish plaything" -truth seekers "itty bitty imps like yourself" -harvest festival(? Don't remember the title) "little creatures" -looloo land. The argument is he didn't mean it as an insult and that's true, he didn't even mean the deal as manipulation, but that doesn't change how it made blitz feel, blitz isn't the type to open up to someone and say 'hey that hurts my feelings ' if stolas really liked him he should have noticed the reactions. He hates it every time, pushing away, changing the subject, you can't be that stupid. You can say stolas was raised this way and yes he was but again how is that blitz's problem? He can be treated disrespectfully because stolas has a shitty parent? So did he.

Let's not forget how he acted at Ozzie's too, when he was called out for being on a date with an imp he hid behind his menu like blitz is an embarrassment, he publicly humiliated him instead of taking up for him, hence why Ozzie and fizz are so much better, they would never. And then Stolas is all sad like "why didn't he wanna cuddle? :(" idk maybe because you reinforced he's worthless in public

And then it's revealed they haven't been doing their deal for a while because stolas feels guilty and it's about time, he should have realized forcing someone to have sex with you to do their job is wrong immediately. When he tells blitz he does it in the worst way possible, he doesn't fully explain why he's taking the book first and that makes blitz panic, and then all the sudden he's confessing his love, what did he think would happen?

They have this huge argument where people say stolas has a trauma response from yelling even though he's never flinched at Stella and wasn't afraid of her, every time she yelled or threw something he just looked dead inside instead of frightened, that's a normal response too, what I'm saying is in that moment he wasn't afraid of blitz at all and even if he was how is that blitz's fault? It was an impulsive reaction not a planned thing to play on someone's trauma

"I think so highly of you, I didn't know you thought so low of me" Stolas says crying, how? And it's not thinking low, it's thinking you think so low, "treating me like one of your little imp servants" he was?? If someone is telling you you did something that hurt them you should apologize instead of making it about yourself, save your crying for when you apologize like "oh my God i did that? I'm so sorry, i didn't mean to, I don't look down on you I promise, I didn't realize " and boom we're slightly better!

"When have I ever looked down on you?" Everything before the deal break where you suddenly try to be better without apologizing and blitz doesn't understand, and the thing about blitz abandoning him with striker, he says blitz sounds like striker, don't do that wtf, you're making someone for guilty for taking their daughter to the doctor? Not everyone is a shitty dad who uses their child as an excuse to sexually and publicity flirt with the guy you're cheating on her mom with. You do not get to make him feel guilty for sending his work to do it while he comforts his scared child

Stolas refuses to acknowledge his own faults aside from the one with the deal, there's too much damage between to be a proper relationship, they shouldn't be endgame but you just know they will be somehow

[snowshinobi]

thinking about that girl who wanted to die in high school (me) and how nice it was that she didn't because i'm still angry and sad but with the understanding that death is inevitable and there's things to live for before we get there

[strwbrymlkshake]

im the sleepiest guy in the world rn gn yangang I will talk to you tomorrow <3

[postmortemnivis]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

[luveline]

could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?

“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep. 

They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone. 

“No.” 

You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw. 

“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.” 

That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.” 

“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.” 

“Promise,” you say.

You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper. 

“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.” 

“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile. 

“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.” 

“Gotta get that time down,” you say. 

“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute. 

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room

When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you’d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.  

When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets. 

You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan. 

“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch. 

“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?” 

Your lips pucker into a twist. 

“What?” he asks. 

Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried. 

“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?” 

Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?” 

You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?” 

It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but  back then he’d been too shy. 

I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking. 

“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.

“It’s from that note you left me.”

“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”

“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”

“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.

“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”

He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones. 

“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’

“So we aren’t equal?”

“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”

“Can’t believe you kept that note.”

“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”

He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.

[joelsgu4tar]

JOEL MILLER FIC RECS

⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽

an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3

Series

— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...

— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.

— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...

— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.

— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.

One-Shots

— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.

— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.

— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.

— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.

— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.

— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

------------------------------

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure.