#how to read a book in your target language

[ilovolderman]

Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It’s game night, and Sam is being extra suspicious about your secret relationship with Bucky.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, uno

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". it doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10 thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

It was a Monday, and Sam Wilson was once again spiraling.

Not because he had a particularly bad day or because a rogue pigeon had decided his sandwich was a target. No, Sam’s mental breakdown was much more subtle, much more insidious.

It was because of the vibe.

The vibe was off.

At first, it was innocent. Steve had invited everyone over for "a quiet evening," which meant they were playing board games and pretending they weren't all secretly trying to outsmart each other with complex strategies and alliances.

But it wasn’t the games that were bothering Sam.

It was you and Bucky, like always.

You and Bucky entered the living room at the same time. He was holding a bag of fries like it was an offering, and you had a look on your face like you were trying to keep from laughing at a private joke. It wasn’t obvious to anyone else, but Sam’s gut tightened. He'd been through this before.

He had a sixth sense for this kind of thing.

A totally normal looking Bucky waved at Sam, but there was something about the way he did it—too casual, too... loaded. You smiled as you sat down on the couch, and Bucky followed.

Then, the thing happened.

You both reached for the same side of the couch at the same time. And you didn’t immediately pull away like people usually do when they're not on the verge of launching into some kind of... well, whatever this was.

You just... stayed there.

Sam squinted, his eyes narrowing like he was a detective trying to crack an impossible case. This was the moment. The moment when his suspicions shifted from theory to solid fact.

Sam wasn’t sure who made the first move, but suddenly—without explanation—Bucky’s arm was draped over the back of the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

A few moments passed.

Still no words.

Just an... unsettling silence as you both stared ahead at the game unfolding in front of you.

Sam looked from you, to Bucky, then back to you. His fingers twitched. The notepad was in his lap, but he hadn’t written a single thing down yet. How was he supposed to document what was happening?

It was... too subtle.

He turned to Steve. “Are they—?”

Steve, blissfully unaware, was deep into his Monopoly strategy. “Hmm?”

“Do you notice anything... off about them?” Sam asked, nodding toward the couch.

Steve glanced over and blinked. “What? They’re sitting next to each other?”

Sam clenched his jaw. “It’s the way they’re sitting. They’re... too comfortable. Like they’re already sharing the same DNA. You see that?”

Steve squinted for a moment, then shrugged. “I think you’re reading too much into it.”

Sam was about to respond when Tony strolled into the room, “What’s this about reading into things?” he asked casually, taking a seat next to Steve.

“They’re being weird,” Sam muttered, pointing to the couch.

Tony leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean how they’re subtly acting like they’ve been married for thirty years, without the commitment?”

Sam’s eye twitched.

Tony grinned at the chaos unfolding in Sam’s mind. “Don’t overthink it, Sammy. Some people just get comfortable with each other.” He took a sip from his glass.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky were still sitting there, but now you were exchanging an absurdly synchronized look.

You both looked at each other like you were reading a secret book written in a language only the two of you could understand. The silence was thick enough to slice with a knife.

Then—just as Sam felt his sanity slip away completely—you both laughed. At nothing.

A soft, almost eerie laugh, like you were in on some joke only the two of you got.

Tony, who was now practically snickering, leaned over and whispered to Steve, “We should’ve put money on it. Sam’s on the edge, and he’s about to combust.”

Sam stood up abruptly, looking at the pair on the couch, then back at Steve, his eyes wide with the fury of a thousand unanswered questions. “That’s it. I’m gonna ask them directly.”

“Oh, no,” Steve said, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “You really don’t want to.”

But Sam was too far gone. His mind was locked in a war with his instincts. He marched over to the couch, put his hands on his hips, and shot you and Bucky an unrelenting stare.

Bucky didn’t even look at Sam, he was handing you the fries, leaning toward you. You smiled at Bucky like he was the best thing since sliced bread, and Sam felt his soul physically leave his body.

This was it. This was the moment that proved it.

"You two are literally a walking romcom," Sam spat out in a low voice, too quietly for anyone to hear except you and Bucky. "I see it. The fries. The eye contact. It’s like... like... a plot."

You smirked. “What’s your deal, Sam? I’m just getting some fries. Everyone loves fries.”

Bucky nodded, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle his grin. “Yeah, Sam. What’s your deal?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You guys. Are you really gonna sit there and keep telling me you’re just friends?”

Both of you paused. The air felt like it shifted, like it thickened, as if the universe was waiting for the punchline. Sam’s pulse quickened.

And then, in perfect unison, both of you said:

“We’re friends.”

Sam stared at you both, utterly dumbfounded.

“Friends?” he whispered in horror. “With... this?”

You both blinked at him innocently.

“Of course,” you said.

“We’re just good pals,” Bucky added, just barely holding in a laugh.

 “I—I can’t,” Sam muttered, trying to make sense of the absolute absurdity unfolding before him.

Bucky slapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder, like the world’s least convincing therapist. “You’ll get there, Sam. You just have to let go and stop thinking so hard about it.”

Sam made a strangled noise that could’ve been a scream or the noise of a man who had just realized he was doomed. He glanced at Peter, who was giving him a look of pure, unfiltered sympathy.

“Is this some kind of test?” Sam asked, his voice rising. “Am I being pranked? Are you two secretly married? Or, like... I don’t know, are you... trying to get a rise out of me?”

Bucky leaned forward slightly. “No, Sam. We’re just casually enjoying life... together.”

“Together,” Sam repeated, clutching his head dramatically. “I’m going to be sick.”

And then, just to make sure he was completely defeated, you reached over, casually brushing your hand against Bucky’s arm before giving him a tiny, affectionate squeeze.

Sam blinked. His notebook hit the floor with a dramatic thud.

“I knew it.” he gasped, and then, as if the universe had somehow heard him, he heard Natasha’s voice from across the room, still half-asleep:

“Sam, you’re being ridiculous. Just let them enjoy the vibes.”

Sam’s soul left his body.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky exchanged yet another impossibly synchronized glance.

Tony, still grinning, patted Sam on the back. “Don’t worry. One day you’ll look back on this and laugh. Just not today.”

And with that, Sam grabbed his coat, shook his head, and walked out the door.

Meanwhile, Bucky reached over, snagged the last of the fries, and handed them to you. “You think he’s buying it?”

You shrugged. “Nah, I think we’ve got him exactly where we want him.”

Bucky smirked. “Good. Let’s mess with him some more tomorrow.”

The room was quiet now. The chaos had died down. Steve had gone to clean up the kitchen, Tony had retreated to a mysterious project involving lasers, and Natasha was now fully asleep, curled up with a blanket over her face on the armchair.

That left just you and Bucky, still curled on the couch — the battlefield of your dramatic emotional warfare against Sam.

You reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the deck of Uno cards you’d swiped earlier. You looked at Bucky with a mischievous little glint in your eye.

“Wanna play?”

He grinned, tilting his head. “I thought we already emotionally destroyed a man tonight. Isn’t that enough chaos for one evening?”

You started shuffling the deck, your fingers moving deftly. “Just one game. Come on. I promise not to make you cry.”

“Oh, please,” Bucky said, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at you. “You’re only confident because you’ve been cheating.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “I do not cheat! I win with style.”

“Sure,” Bucky said, lounging comfortably as he took the cards you dealt him. “Style, manipulation, same thing.”

The game started quietly, the soft rustle of cards filling the silence. You both sat cross-legged on the couch, knees bumping occasionally. The warm, low lamp cast a golden hue over everything, and the mood had shifted from chaos to... something soft. Comfortable.

Halfway through the game, you narrowed your eyes. “You’re letting me win.”

Bucky paused mid-draw. “What?”

You pointed at his hand. “You had a +4 and a Reverse like, four rounds ago. You haven’t played either.”

He blinked, all innocent puppy eyes. “What are you talking about? Maybe I just forgot.”

You squinted harder. “James Buchanan Barnes. Do not lie to me.”

He chuckled, then leaned forward, lowering his voice like it was a secret. “Fine. Maybe I’m letting you win a little. You get this cute little proud look when you think you’ve cornered me. It’s adorable.”

Your face flushed, and you tossed your card at him. “That’s cheating in a different way.”

“It’s strategic emotional warfare,” Bucky replied smoothly, grinning as he finally laid down a card. “I’m adapting to modern combat.”

You crossed your arms, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Well, stop it. I want a fair game.”

He nodded solemnly, eyes twinkling. “Understood. No mercy.”

You resumed playing, and this time he was relentless—Reverse, Skip, Draw Two. You shrieked in betrayal as your carefully constructed hand crumbled.

“This is what happens when you ask for a fair game,” Bucky said, laughing.

“I take it back!” you shouted, laughing as you threw your hands up. “Bring back the gentle sabotage!”

Bucky leaned over, gathering the cards again, but this time he didn’t start a new game. He looked at you, expression softening.

“Hey,” he said, voice quieter now. “Being here with you… it just makes everything else fade out..”

You tilted your head, suddenly serious. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He reached over and brushed a piece of lint off your sleeve. “Feels like home. Like peace.”

Your heart melted a little, the kind of soft ache that came when you realized you were exactly where you were supposed to be. You shifted closer, your legs pressed gently against his, and rested your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t move for a moment—then his arm wrapped around you, pulling you just a little closer, like muscle memory.

“Uno?” you whispered.

“Only if I get to win this time,” he whispered back.

You smiled into his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

And in the warm, quiet room, surrounded by discarded fries and chaos-shaped memories, the two of you played on.

“Uno,” you announced, placing your second-to-last card down with a triumphant grin.

Bucky stared at you in betrayal. “You said we were being nice this round!”

You shrugged, biting back a laugh. “I was nice. I could’ve skipped you again. You should be thanking me.”

He shook his head in disbelief, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Hmm?” he asked, all wide-eyed innocence as he picked up a card from the draw pile.

You squinted at him. “Say it again.”

He leaned in, his voice low and smooth like velvet. “You heard me.”

Your heart fluttered. Stupidly. Ridiculously. And yet, you couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across your face. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep your cool, placing your final card down with a flourish.

“Game,” you declared smugly.

Bucky groaned and dropped his hand. “Unbelievable. First you destroy Sam’s psyche, now you destroy my winning streak.”

“I’m on fire tonight,” you said, laughing.

“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes softening as he looked at you. “You really are.”

There was a pause—just long enough to feel like something was shifting again. Not in a chaotic, Sam-spiral kind of way. In the way the air gets thicker when something good is about to happen.

He leaned forward, slow and certain.

You met him halfway.

The kiss was soft. Unhurried. His hand cupped your cheek gently, thumb brushing along your skin like he’d been waiting forever for the right moment and wanted to savor it now that it was here. You melted into it, your fingers curling into the sleeve of his henley.

When you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his, and you both just... stayed there.

No words. No teasing. Just you and him and the warm hum of everything unspoken.

You yawned a moment later, trying (and failing) to hide it behind your hand.

Bucky chuckled, pressing a tiny kiss to your temple. “Okay, game champ. Time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” you said, already half-asleep against his shoulder.

“You just yawned into my clavicle.”

“Coincidence,” you mumbled, snuggling closer.

He smiled, shifting so you were tucked more comfortably into his side. He grabbed the discarded throw blanket and wrapped it around both of you.

“You’re staying right here,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper.

You made a sleepy little noise of agreement, already drifting.

And as the last of the game night chaos faded into silence, Bucky pressed one more kiss to your hair, rested his cheek against your head, and held you close.

Neither of you moved for a long, long time.

Hours later, the room was wrapped in a sleepy kind of silence, warm and golden under the dim light.

You and Bucky were curled up on the couch, tangled beneath a blanket, both long since surrendered to sleep. Your head was tucked against his chest, his arm securely around you like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. His metal fingers rested gently against your side, thumb unconsciously tracing small, soothing circles.

It was peaceful.

Quiet.

Almost.

From the armchair in the corner, Natasha Romanoff slowly opened one eye.

She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Just... observed.

Because of course she’d heard everything. The kiss. The whispers. The “you’re lucky you’re cute.” The affectionate laughter. The unmistakable sound of two people falling completely, irrevocably into something more.

A slow, knowing smile tugged at the edge of her mouth.

She watched as Bucky instinctively pulled you closer in his sleep, like even unconscious, he wasn’t letting you drift far. You murmured something incoherent and nuzzled into him, and he murmured something back that sounded suspiciously like your name and definitely like trouble.

Natasha shook her head slightly, amusement flickering across her face.

“You two are the worst,” she whispered to herself, barely audible over the sound of the heater kicking on. “Hopeless.”

But her voice was warm. Fond.

She leaned back into her chair, pulled her blanket tighter around her, and closed her eyes again—smiling like she’d just watched the final twist in a very long-running, extremely satisfying spy mission.

She wasn’t going to tell.

Not yet.

After all, what fun would it be if she ruined the secret when she could just enjoy watching the rest of the team slowly unravel trying to figure it out?

She’d wait.

She could keep a secret.

For now.

next part

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[cherrystaineddoll]

𝓽hings to do instead of scrolling ౨ৎ

summer is here, school is over and you have way too much free time on your hands. so unless you want to spend your whole days with your eyes locked on a screen, here's an in- depth guide on what to do this summer, or whenever!!

learn a new language - trust me, speaking more than one language is a skill that everyone should have, and it always comes in handy. you can watch tv shows, movies or youtube videos in your target language, read beginner books, use apps (not duolingo though.. ) and even just listen to music!! just expose yourself to the language as much as you can, even better if you know anyone you can have conversations with. you could also learn sign language!!

journal or scrapbook - writing down your feelings really helps understanding your own self more. you can try doing shadow work to really dive deep, or just write whatever you feel in that moment. it doesn't have to become a chore, and remember, write for yourself and not as if someone else was going to read!! as for scrapbooking, just print out some nice photos and decorate the pages with stickers, drawings, fun colored paper.. whatever you want, just be creative!!

make art - it doesn't have to look perfect, remember that all art is beautiful in its own way. even if you think you're not good at it, just create, it will help you feel better & you'll also get better with time!! you can draw, paint, sculpt, do pottery, etc. you don't have to follow any guidelines, just buy a random sketchbook, bring out your inner child and do whatever you feel like doing

learn how to play an instrument - this can be a bit expensive, but if you have any instrument in your house that you've never used, it might be a great time to start learning it!! you don't necessarily need to take classes, you can easily find tutorials on youtube, even though it might be harder to learn by yourself. but making music is a really fun activity & good for the soul

reading and writing - i will never recommend reading enough !! everyone should read. it helps you learn new things, understand different perspectives, expand your vocabulary, and so much more. i know books can be expensive, but you can always try to buy them at flea markets, or ask a friend/family member to lend you some. and just in case, there are always some sites where you can read books online for free, like zlibrary!! you can read before going to bed instead of staying on your phone (which is sooo bad for your sleep), at the beach while tanning or outside while getting some fresh air. and if reading books inspires you, you can try to write something!! i'm not saying you have to write a 600 page book, but you can try to write small stories, or poetry, and who knows, someday you might actually write a book! if you want to get published, there are some small literary magazines you can find on social media that publish the works of small writers, it can be a great way to start. you can also always post your works here on tumblr, substack, or any social media platform!! you could also try to write the story for a movie and start screenwriting, if you're into cinematography

research interesting topics - now that school isn't forcing you to study things that maybe you don't care about, you can study whatever you want !! remember, knowledge is power, and with the internet, you basically have the world in your hands. you can watch a youtube video, read a book, or simply research on websites (make sure they're reliable though). you can also take online courses!! i might make a post on ideas for what to research??

start a new hobby - your life can't only be made of school/work, sleep, and a screen. you need hobbies that you actually like and that make you feel good. some of these can be: baking and cooking, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, jewelry making, nail art, makeup, photography, editing, blogging/vlogging, coloring, candle making, soap making, perfume making, modeling, origami, sewing, making diy stuff, chess, puzzles, acting, singing, flower arranging, meditating, lego building, trying new hairstyles or outfits, doing animations, discovering new music, sudoku, the things i previously wrote, and probably a million other activities i can't think of right now

stay active - moving you body is good for both your physical and mental health, i'm sure we all know that. you can go on walks or runs in the nature with your headpones on, or do any sport that you like- some ideas: swimming, dancing (ballet, hip hop, modern, ecc) , tennis, martial arts (judo, karate, taekwondo, ecc), volleyball, basketball, athletics, gymnastics, football, archery, fencing, table tennis, boxing, surfing, rowing, hockey, horseback riding, softball, golf, biking, figure skating, rollerblading, skating.. you don't need to do it competitively (unless you want to), as long as you're having fun and moving your body. you can also do workouts, like yoga or pilates, at home or outdoors, or go hiking.

watch movies, tv shows, or documentaries - it can always be a good learning experience, or just something fun and relaxing that isn't mindlessly scrolling. a bonus: after you've watched something, write a very long, detailed and in-depth review in your journal. you can also post it wherever you want (like letterboxd, to fight all the one liners)

hang out - with friends, family, or even by yourself !! (i know, i know, it can be scary). you can do anything, as long as you're with the right people everything is fun, but here's some ideas: have a picnic, go to the beach, go to a water park, have a baking contest, do temporary tattoos, go to a concert, go out to eat, do a one day trip, go on a road trip, take a walk in the nature, go hiking, go to a trampoline park, go to an amusement park, visit a museum, go thrifting or shopping, have a board games night, try out a new cute cafe or bakery, do an escape room, have a karaoke night, have a movie marathon, and so much more!!

i hope this helped!! ♡

[brawberryz]

you look so pathetic...i want you

Batboys × Loser nerd! Reader

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error / M.list

Jason Todd

Richard had convinced him to go on a blind date, at first he refused

But apparently Richard didn't understand the meaning of the word 'No' and he kept insisting on it all fucking week

He decided to accept just because he had nothing to do (plus he could get rid of that idiot brother)

He thought he would meet the usual girls, most likely he would just talk to her for a while and then leave

He was very surprised when he saw you entering the restaurant agitated 20 minutes late

God, you are the human representation of the fucking nerd emoji, you looked like you came out of an 80s movie

You are literally the representation of the word loser and nerd

"Hi..."

You said embarrassed as you sat at the table in front of him, you adjusted your glasses nervously

Your clothes and hair were a mess as if you had run a marathon to

"Hi"

He waved back, god he didn't think it was going to be this awkward

You and him didn't say anything for the next 20 minutes

"So... you like fnaf?"

"What?"

Jason was surprised by your question, it wasn't the best way to break the ice but it did the trick

At some point he felt like laughing, it was the first date and all you did was talk about a game.

"Although if you don't like it I can also talk about undertale or minecraft"

It was almost funny how you spent the whole date talking about indie games, comics and movies.

He just looked at you with a small smile nodding briefly, you were too focused talking about whatever you were talking about.

But he liked the sparkle and excitement in your eyes every time you talked about one of your weird tastes.

you were a complete loser

You were clearly he type

Richard Grayson

He had met you a few weeks ago, you were the kind librarian who helped him every day when he went to get a book

If he was honest he didn't read any of the books he brought from the library he only went there to see your cute face

After several failed flirtations and denied dates you decided to give him a chance

You couldn't say no to those little puppy eyes he gave you

The date had gone wonderfully and you timidly invited him to your apartment

And it was an offer that Richard couldn't refuse

The night was great, they watched some movies and spent too much time with you since when he saw the time it was too late

He told you it was time to leave but you insisted that he stay arguing that it was too late and your neighborhood was very dangerous

So just to please you he decided to stay, he was Nightwing some small time criminals weren't going to even scratch him but he still stayed with you

When you went to get blankets and pillows so he could sleep more comfortably in the guest room he decided to follow you

His surprise was great when he saw your room full of posters, manga and anime figures and other series and games

You are a big fan of many things

You saw his surprised face when he saw your room and you thought he was about to make fun of you, it was not going to be the first time someone made fun of you

You were a complete nerd and loser you were the easy target for someone to make fun of

"Sorry for the mess and everything else..."

You said embarrassed as you handed him some blankets and pillows

He just nodded with a small smile on his face

"It doesn't matter, the truth is if I'm honest I think it's pretty cool"

Those words caused a small blush on your cheeks, it was the first time someone said something good about you

He said good night to you before leaving for the guest room

That night you could barely sleep since you spent it thinking In Richard's words

he thought your tastes were cool?

Those simple words triggered something in you that you couldn't even explain

Tim Drake

Tim was a nerd, it was quite obvious and it bothered him to admit it

But his new teammate surpassed what the word nerd and loser was

The first time Bruce introduced you to him so that Tim could team up with you he could see how you became a nervous wreck

He could swear that under your gloves your hands were completely sweaty

You were a little strange, you hardly spoke but it's not like it bothered him, besides you were pretty good at fighting and solving cases

But every time he spoke to you it seemed like your brain went into automatic mode and you responded in a robotic way

But he simply didn't pay much attention to it because it wasn't even his problem

Although he wouldn't lie, sometimes you could be quite strange

He was writing another case that you were working on, this one was much more difficult than all the others and he felt that you and him would stay up all night

There was a long silence between you two, not It was awkward but you could tell you wanted to talk but your words wouldn't come out of your mouth

"Sooooo, do you like Star Wars?"

You said suddenly looking at him, he could feel your nervous gaze piercing the back of his neck

"I saw it once with my brothers"

Tim really wasn't very interested in the conversation, although he was a little surprised since it was the first time you started a conversation with him yourself

"Oh, and you liked it?"

"I kind of didn't understand much of the plot"

That was the sign you apparently needed

During the entire time you were with him in the batcave you spent time explaining the story and interesting facts about the movie

He just nodded at your words, it was the first time he saw you so focused talking about a topic, most of the time you were quiet

Although he didn't complain, your voice was quite comforting to listen to

You were quite cute when you talked about something you liked, he could see the way your voice changed to a more enthusiastic one every time you mentioned something you liked

You were a complete nerd and loser and he liked that about you

It's my first time writing romance but I think it came out pretty well, I think

Well, I just wanted to let you know that my requests are open in case anyone has any requests 🗣

[wholoveseggs]

(Quick note: I typed this all out using Elijah’s name but I wanted to say if you don’t think this would fit his character, I think this could also make sense with Kol. Don’t feel pressured to write anything!!)

Hello Lissa! I had an idea about reader and Elijah’s first time together but reader is also a virgin. I know that you’ve wrote a lot of readers first time fics with Elijah but it’s such a sweet trope and I absolutely love how he takes care of the reader in your writing.

How much do you know about dragons? (Don’t worry this isn’t going that way.) In a lot of myths and legends dragons are described as being attracted to virgins because of their purity. My idea is that the latest threat looming over their heads is some type of dragon and no one is too worried about being taken because none of them are virgins and they assume reader isn’t either. But Elijah, being her best friend notices the way her heart begins to race everytime they mention it and all of her other little nervous habits and pulls her to the side. She ends up confessing the truth to him and he tells her it’s nothing to be ashamed of and then after a bit of conversation offers to take her virginity. For safety reasons, obviously, or at least that’s what he’s telling himself. With an eventual confession between them about their actual feelings.

For Safety Reasons

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Kol Mikaelson x f!reader} A dark legend. A looming threat. And Kol Mikaelson offering a very unconventional solution.

♡♡ Hellooo sweet anon!! I decided to use Kol for this one, mostly for the banter hehe.. enjoy xoxo ~ ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: Smuttt, virgin reader, first time, lots of teasing, oral (f!receiving), Kol being unbearably good at it..., blood-drinking, friends-to-lovers but still pretending it’s casual, a brief Elijah cameo (I can't help myself) cocky yet affectionate Kol, lot's of giggles and awkwardness && maybe a dragon...

Chaos was the order of the day in New Orleans. Strange rumors had been circulating throughout the French Quarter about something that was wreaking havoc on the city and no one seemed to have a clue about what it could be. It had been targeting young people and killing them in the night, leaving behind nothing more than a bloodied pile of flesh and bones.

Naturally, this caused quite a stir amongst the supernatural residents of the city, and they were all eager to get rid of the threat. Even the witches had no idea what it was, which meant that the problem wasn't going to go away easily.

And that was why a meeting was called in the compound, by Klaus. He needed all of the factions to come together and discuss how they were going to fix this problem.

You were sitting with Kol, whose nose was deep in an old book. You weren't even sure what kind of book it was. It was in a language you couldn't understand, and so old you feared it would poof into dust under Kol's very hands.

"Whatcha reading?" you asked him, leaning against his side a little.

Kol didn't answer you right away, and when he did, it was only to mutter the word 'purity' under his breath.

"Purity?" you questioned. "What are you talking about? What does this have to do with the attacks?"

He didn't look up at you. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and you could tell he was working something out in his head. "Nothing. It's probably nothing."

You looked at him in confusion.

"It's just an old legend about dragons...It's an archaic notion," Kol answered. "A myth. A legend. An idea that was created centuries ago."

"An idea? What do you mean?" You were getting more and more confused.

Before he could explain anything further, Klaus stood up from his seat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Kol set his book down on the table, and you noticed an intricate drawing of some sort of reptile-humanoid creature. It was hideous looking, with sharp teeth, claws, and bat-like wings.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the page, even as Klaus began to explain the killings happening in the city. Something about this creature just drew you in. The ink on the page seemed darker the longer you stared at it, the jagged lines of its claws curling as if ready to tear into something...or someone. You shivered, unable to shake the feeling that it was watching you.

"Do we have any leads on what this is? What is its weakness?" One of the witch leaders spoke up.

"If we did, it would already be dead," Klaus retorted.

"Perhaps we should stop trying to track it down, and instead focus on figuring out what it wants," Elijah suggested. "If we know what it wants, perhaps we can negotiate with it."

"What makes you think this thing can be negotiated with?" another witch demanded. "We have no idea what its agenda is. Why are these young people being targeted? Why hasn't anyone seen this thing?"

"Perhaps there's a link we haven't found yet," Kol chimed in. "Something we're missing."

"You sound like you already have an answer, brother," Klaus said. "Speak your mind."

"It's more of a theory, really," Kol admitted. "One based on legends."

"Let's hear it," Elijah prompted.

"Right, so, the victims. They're all young, yes? Unmarried?"

The room fell silent as the supernatural residents of the city nodded.

"What if it's...what if they're all..." Kol trailed off.

"All what?" Klaus demanded.

"Virgins," Kol finished.

Silence fell once more as the room considered Kol's words.

"So, what, this thing enjoys a virgin sacrifice? Is that what you're suggesting?" Klaus's voice was incredulous.

"I'm saying this creature feeds on innocence. On purity." Kol gestured to his book. "According to legend, dragons enjoy the dark and they are drawn to virgins. They're a delicacy, apparently."

Elijah hummed thoughtfully, reaching for the book Kol had been studying. He flipped through the fragile pages, his brows knitting together in concentration. “If that’s true,” he mused, “then we may have a way to predict its next victim.”

A slow, dawning horror crept through you as the conversation continued around you. No one in the room seemed particularly concerned… Why would they be? The assumption was clear: none of them fit the criteria.

But you did.

Your heart kicked against your ribs, your fingers tightening in your lap. You forced yourself to stay still, to breathe evenly. The last thing you needed was anyone noticing how much this conversation was affecting you.

Unfortunately, Kol noticed everything.

He had been watching you as soon as he mentioned the word virgins. At first, he thought maybe you were just unnerved by the idea of a beast roaming the streets, but then he saw the way your breathing had shifted, the way you refused to meet anyone’s eyes. Most telling of all? The rapid, frantic rhythm of your pulse. This was more than that…

Realization flickered in his dark eyes, something unreadable passing over his face before he leaned toward you, voice low and teasing. “What’s got you all jumpy, darling?”

You stiffened. “Nothing.”

Kol tilted his head, amusement dancing on the edge of his smirk, but there was something deeper beneath it now… something knowing.

“You sure about that?” His voice was softer now, more serious. “Because I could’ve sworn your heart nearly burst out of your chest a second ago.”

Your throat felt too tight. You could feel the weight of his stare, could practically hear the thoughts clicking into place behind his dark eyes. He knew. You had to get out of here before anyone else picked up on your growing panic.

You pushed up from your seat, trying to make a quiet escape, but Kol was already on his feet, catching your wrist before you could slip away. His grip was gentle but firm, and the warmth of his fingers sent another unwanted shiver through you. “Come with me,” he murmured, already steering you toward the hall.

You barely registered the questioning look Elijah sent your way before Kol tugged you through the compound, weaving through its corridors until you were somewhere quieter, more private. Only when he was satisfied that no one could overhear did he turn to face you fully.

“Tell me,” he said, voice low but insistent. “Tell me why you reacted like that.”

You hesitated, staring at the floor, but Kol wasn’t having it. He took a step closer, crowding into your space just enough to demand your attention. “Darling,” he pressed, “are you a virgin?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your entire body tensing.

Kol let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

He looked back at you, his usual playfulness tempered by something else… Concern? Possessiveness? Whatever it was, it sent your pulse racing even faster.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” he continued, his tone serious.

You nodded, barely able to speak past the lump in your throat. If the legends were true, you were exactly what this thing was hunting.

Kol cursed under his breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw. Then, in true Kol fashion, he exhaled heavily and shot you a wicked smirk. “Well, love, there’s an easy way to solve this problem.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

Kol arched a brow. “I mean, it’s simple. If this thing is only after virgins, all we have to do is make sure you’re not one anymore.”

Your stomach flipped. “Y-you cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” His smirk widened, but there was something else in his eyes now, something unreadable. He shrugged, feigning casualness. “Think about it. It’s not a bad idea.”

You gawked at him. “Not a bad idea? That’s your solution?”

Kol leaned in, voice dropping to something dangerously low. “What? You don’t trust me to take care of you?”

Your lips parted, your brain struggling to catch up. Kol had always been a flirt, but this was different. His teasing carried weight, an offer laced in his words.

For safety reasons, obviously.

At least, that’s what you were telling yourselves.

Your cheeks warmed. You wanted to tell him no, wanted to shove him away and storm off. But the heat pooling low in your belly begged to differ. And, as much as you hated to admit it, Kol had a point.

If the creature was only targeting virgins, then losing your virginity could be the solution. The easiest, most convenient solution. And with Kol... Well... It wasn't exactly like you were opposed to the idea.

Still, the whole situation was enough to have you shaking. Your hands twisted in your skirt, a nervous habit Kol was quick to notice.

He sighed, expression softening, and reached out to gently cup your cheek. He rubbed his thumb along your jaw, his touch warm and soothing.

"Or you can die a horrible bloody death? I mean... If you are that disgusted by me," he teased.

You huffed, shoving him. "Ass."

He laughed, tugging you closer and leaning in until his breath was ghosting across your lips. "So, what'll it be, darling?"

You bit your lip, staring up at him. There were so many reasons why this was a terrible idea, but none of them felt important anymore.

"Where?" You asked so softly, that normal hearing would have missed it.

Kol didn't miss it, and his eyes lit up with a hunger that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Tonight," he promised. "My room. Just after sunset."

"Sounds romantic," you replied, it meant to sound sarcastic, but came out a bit breathier than intended.

He smirked, squeezing your hand. "See you tonight, darling."

"Yeah," you whispered, heart hammering wildly as he let go of you and disappeared back down the hall.

Your palms were sweaty, your skin tingling where he touched you. You weren't sure if you were excited or terrified. Probably both.

All you could hope for is that you weren't making a huge mistake.

Kol's room was located in the attic of the compound. It was a smaller space, with a slanted ceiling and a large cosy bed tucked into the corner. It was simple, compared to the rest of the house, but it was undeniably Kol.

Your gaze swept over the cluttered surface of his desk, over the stacks of books and notebooks, the old photos and the trinkets from his travels.

"See anything you like?"

You whirled around, heat spreading through your cheeks. Kol was leaning against the doorway, his dark eyes sweeping over you. Why?!! Why did he have to look so good in just his t-shirt and a pair of jeans? It was not fair.

But you pulled yourself together enough to tease him back, "Rather odd choice of bedroom, all the way up here with the spiders."

Kol scoffed, shutting the door behind him. "I'll have you know I quite enjoy the solitude. Besides, no one will hear us from all the way up here."

You tried not to focus on the last part, but failed miserably. He was grinning at you with that same mischievous smirk he always wore, and you had no doubt he knew the effect his words were having on you.

"So... Uhh. How are we doing this?" You asked awkwardly, feeling the need to break the silence.

"Hmm." Kol walked past you, settling down on the edge of his bed and looking up at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. "Well, that's entirely up to you, darling."

He reached out his hand and pulled you into his lap, and a soft squeak escaped you at the sudden motion. You shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the feeling of his hard chest pressed against your back was doing nothing to ease the butterflies in your stomach and Kol's smirk widened.

"What is it?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do I make you nervous?"

You huffed. "Just not used to...being this close, is all."

"We've cuddled before," he pointed out, his hand sliding further down your side, resting just above your hip.

"Not like this... That was a friendly snuggle. This is a..." You paused, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Snuggle with benefits?" Kol supplied, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Sure," you giggled. "Something like that."

He chuckled, pressing a light kiss against your neck. Then he gently lifted you and moved you into the center of the bed, so that you were lying down and he was hovering above you, braced on his arms. "So, do I?" He murmured.

"Do you what?"

"Make you nervous."

You swallowed. "No," you lied, and he chuckled again, leaning in until his lips were ghosting over yours.

"Really?"

You nodded.

"So, if I kissed you right now..." He trailed off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You held your breath, heart pounding.

"...That would be fine with you?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay," he breathed. Then his mouth was on yours, warm and gentle and so full of tenderness that you couldn't help the moan that escaped you.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands moving down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. The sensation of his body pressed against yours sent a rush of heat through you, and you arched into him, eager for more.

He slid a hand underneath your shirt, his palm brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, and the contact was enough to make you shudder. He groaned, pulling back just enough to whisper against your lips.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you panted. "Just... sensitive."

"In a good way?" he teased, and you rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest.

"Don't get cocky."

He laughed, kissing you again and shifting his hips against yours, and the feeling of his hardness grinding against your core had you moaning into his mouth.

"You seem to like my cockiness," he teased, rolling his hips again and you whimpered, burying your face in his neck.

"Shut up."

"Never," he growled, kissing your cheek and pulling back just far enough to strip his shirt off and toss it to the floor. You had seen Kol shirtless countless times before, but this was different.

You ran a hand over his stomach, marveling at the feel of his abs flexing beneath your fingertips. You traced a line down the center of his chest, letting your nails scrape lightly against his skin.

"I guess you are pretty fit," you teased, and he smirked.

"You don't need to guess," he purred. "I know you think I'm hot."

You scoffed. "You are not getting a bigger ego, I won't allow it."

"It's too late," he said, capturing your mouth again, kissing you deep and slow. He shifted his weight onto one arm, trailing the other down the side of your body, tracing a line down to your waist.

"Now," he whispered, his fingers trailing along the hem of your shirt, teasingly skimming beneath the fabric. "Can I see more of you?"

You bit your lip, nodding.

He lifted your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. His eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed skin, and the sight of his pupils dilating made your pulse skip.

You barely had time to register the rush of cool air against your skin before Kol’s hands slid up your sides, his fingers toying with the straps of your bra.

"May I?" His voice was softer now, patient, but the heat in his gaze made your stomach flip.

You nodded hesitantly, but as soon as he reached behind you, unclasping it with ease, a fresh wave of shyness flooded through you. You instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, cheeks burning.

Kol let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Oh, darling," he murmured, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. "No need to be shy. You’re breathtaking."

You bit your lip, hesitating. His hands gently traced the curve of your arms, coaxing them away, his expression utterly captivated. He pressed a gentle kiss against your shoulder, then traced a path with his lips, following the curve of your collarbone. His touch was light and careful, as if he were afraid of hurting you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, half-heartedly trying to tug him away. "Kol..."

"Yes?" He hummed as he kissed his way down the center of your chest, pausing just above the valley of your breasts.

"Y-you don't have to do that...I'm fine, really," you stuttered, cheeks flaming.

"Did you think I was just going to shove my cock in you unceremoniously and be done with it?" Kol chuckled.

"I... well..."

"That is not my way," he assured, his lips ghosted over the swell of your breast, his warm breath teasing you.

You didn't get a chance to respond, because his tongue found your nipple, and all coherent thought fled.

He circled it slowly, sucking gently, his other hand finding your breast, massaging the soft flesh. He teased and played, switching between the two until both of your nipples were hard and aching.

His lips were soft and warm and so damn perfect, and you could feel the heat of his tongue as he moved further down your body, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the way.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your skirt, sliding the fabric down over your thighs and tossing it onto the floor. His lips traveled over your stomach, nipping lightly at your hip bones.

"Really.. you don't have to, Kol," you said weakly, despite the fact that every cell in your body was screaming at him to keep going.

He ignored your protests, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours as he placed a kiss right above the hem of your panties.

"These are cute, did you wear them just for me?" He murmured, tracing the edge with his thumb.

"N-no," you stammered, and he chuckled.

"You're a terrible liar."

"Maybe you should stop asking me questions then," you shot back, and he smirked.

He lifted your thighs, draping them over his strong shoulders, his eyes locked on yours.

"Can I?" He purred, and the sight of his dark gaze, framed by your legs, had your heart pounding.

You nodded, and he rewarded you by dipping his head, running his tongue slowly over your clothed sex. The heat and smell of you sent a shudder through him, and he groaned, pulling you closer.

He licked and sucked, his tongue pressing against the soaked fabric, teasing your clit. He could feel the way it swelled under his touch, and the sound of your breathy moans was making him painfully hard.

“You are so lovely,” he murmured against the damp lace, his breath hot and teasing. He placed another slow, deliberate kiss over the fabric before glancing up, mischief glinting in his dark eyes. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”

You let out a shaky exhale, fingers tightening in his hair. “I…I never said stop.”

Kol smirked, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pressed another kiss to your inner thigh, scraping his teeth lightly against your skin. “Good girl,” he purred, and the two simple words sent a wave of heat pooling deep in your belly.

Without further teasing, he hooked his fingers beneath your panties and dragged them down your legs, his gaze locked onto yours the entire time. You swore you could feel the weight of his stare, the way he was drinking you in like a man starved.

Then his hands were on your thighs again, urging them apart, and he lowered his mouth to your aching core, licking a slow, deliberate path from your entrance up to your clit.

You gasped, and he chuckled, repeating the motion and adding more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow, pleasure pulsing through you as he worked his tongue over you. His movements were practiced and sure, like he already knew exactly what you liked, and your breath caught in your throat as his tongue slid lower, circling your entrance before pushing inside.

The feeling was unlike anything you had experienced before, and you couldn't stop the desperate whimpers from spilling past your lips. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, his eyes flicking up to watch your face as he lapped at you. You looked down at him and the sight of him buried between your legs, his dark hair falling in his face, his cheeks flushed with need, was enough to have you coming apart.

Your orgasm hit hard, ripping through you with an intensity that had you crying out, trembling under the force of his skilled mouth. He didn't let up, didn't pull away, just kept working his tongue until your back was arching. You feared you would pull out his hair with how tightly you were gripping it, but his muffled groan and the way his tongue was thrusting deeper inside you only urged you on.

You came again, the second one more intense than the first. By the time he was finished, your thighs were quivering, and you were a panting, sweaty mess.

"Fuck," you gasped, and Kol chuckled, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh.

You slowly caught your breath, and Kol kissed his way back up your body, pressing his lips against your throat.

"Still nervous?" He murmured, and you shook your head, wrapping your arms around him.

"Not even a little," you said, and his lips curved into a smile.

"Good," he said, and then his mouth was on yours, his tongue brushing against yours, and you could taste yourself on his lips. "You are such a pretty little thing, darling. So fucking perfect."

"Shut up, you don't have to be charming, it's just me."

He smiled, brushing his nose against yours. "No, darling, I want to. I'm going to make this good for you."

"Kol..." You didn't know how to tell him that it was already better than anything you could have imagined.

He kissed you again, softer this time, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"I promise I will go slow, okay?" He whispered, and you nodded, biting your lip.

He slid a hand between you, unbuckling his jeans and pushing them down over his hips. You took in the sight of him, the muscles of his stomach flexing, the faint lines of his abs, the v shape that disappeared into his boxers.

He was hard, and you could see the outline of his length straining against the fabric. It made you a little dizzy, seeing how much he wanted you, and you swallowed, reaching out to run a hand down his stomach.

"I want you to know...," he began, and you looked up, meeting his eyes. "I'm not just doing this because I want to protect you."

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile.

"I also happen to really, really, want to fuck you." He added.

You giggled. "So eloquent."

"What can I say, I'm a poet at heart."

You laughed again, and he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss.

"If I do anything you don't like," he murmured against your mouth, his hand sliding down the side of your body. "Or if you want to stop, just tell me, and I'll stop, okay?"

You nodded, and he kissed you again, one of his hands was planted beside your head, holding him up, while the other was freeing his cock from his boxers. You could feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh, and the sensation sent a wave of heat washing through you.

"Kol, wait, before we..." You began, and he froze.

"What's wrong?"

"I want you to bite me," you blurted.

"Rather kinky for the first time," he teased as he gently spread your legs, settling between them. "We can work our way up to that,"

You blushed at the way he was looking at you, his gaze roaming over your bare form. This was it, there was no going back now. Not that you wanted to.

He brushed his nose against yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "My sweet darling," he murmured, and you melted into his touch.

He reached down, grabbing himself and giving his length a few lazy strokes. You spread your legs a little wider, and he positioned himself, his tip brushing against your entrance.

Kol let out a deep, satisfied groan as he eased himself fully inside you, his forehead dropping against yours. The stretch burned, but it wasn’t unbearable… more like an unfamiliar pressure, a new sensation that left you gasping for breath.

"Well," he exhaled, voice low and teasing against your lips. "That was the big event. Congratulations, you are no longer a virgin."

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers curling into his hair. "Well, I guess we’re done here then," you shot back, mimicking his tone.

Kol huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he nudged your nose with his own. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his hips rolling forward just slightly, making you gasp. "We’ve only just begun."

Your body twitched beneath him, still adjusting, and he paused, watching your face carefully. "Still with me, darling?"

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah… just, um, a lot all at once."

Kol smirked, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. "That’s the idea, love."

He started moving, slow and measured at first, his hands gripping your hips as he tilted your body just right beneath him. The feeling was overwhelming, the sensation of him moving inside of you making your breathing increase.

"That’s it," Kol praised, his tone smug as he watched your expression shift. "I knew you would feel so good around me."

You huffed, biting back a moan as he rolled his hips again, this time a little deeper. "You just have to make everything about yourself, don’t you?"

Kol chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your throat, his lips lingering over your pulse. "Would you have me any other way?"

You wanted to argue, but the way he angled his thrusts perfectly against that growing ache inside you stole your breath, leaving you clutching at his shoulders instead.

Damn him.

"You’re taking me so well, darling," he murmured against your skin, his hand skimming down your thigh to hook your leg around his waist, deepening the angle.

Your moan was borderline embarrassing, and Kol grinned like a man who had just won the lottery.

"Shut up," you mumbled, flustered by his smugness.

"I haven’t even said anything," he teased, rolling his hips again, sending a sharp wave of pleasure through you.

You whimpered, arching into him, and he groaned, his mouth finding your collarbone, nipping at the skin there. His fangs scraped against you lightly, and you wanted to feel them sink into you.

"Kol," you breathed, voice hushed.

He glanced up at you, slowing his thrusts just slightly. "Hmm?"

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch. His lips hovered against your throat, his fangs still barely grazing the sensitive skin there.

"Please… I want you to…," you whispered.

Kol’s body stilled completely.

His dark eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching. “Darling…" His voice had lost its usual teasing lilt, dipping into something rougher, more serious.

"I mean it," you murmured, stroking your thumb along his cheek. "I want to feel you."

Kol swallowed hard, his restraint visibly slipping. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, tilting your head to the side in silent invitation, your eyes closed, heart racing.

He watched you for a moment, the way your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the way your pulse jumped under your skin. You were the most precious thing in the world to him, and he couldn't believe that you were here, willing, trusting him.

His lips brushed against the hollow of your throat, feather-light. He felt your heart skip, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Easy, darling," he whispered, and then his fangs sank into your flesh.

The pain was sharp, a stinging ache that had you sucking in a breath, but then the pleasure hit, a heady rush of warmth that left you dizzy. It was unlike anything you had felt before, a strange, euphoric sort of high. You could feel his lips move against your skin as he drank, his hips resuming their steady pace, his hands holding you firmly beneath him.

His tongue flicked out, swiping over the puncture marks, soothing them. Your blood was hot and sweet, and the sound of his name falling from your lips in a moan had him nearly feral with desire.

You were overwhelmed, every sensation heightened by his bite, the feeling of his lips on your skin, his cock deep within you, his hands gripping your hips. He was everywhere, his touch lighting up every nerve, his voice rough and breathless in your ear, calling you his darling, his love. The connection had always been there, lingering in the background, and now it was like a floodgate had been opened. You could feel his adoration, his lust, his possessive desire to claim every part of you, and the intensity of it was almost too much to bear.

You were close, so close, and he could feel it. He could feel everything. He could feel the way your muscles tightened around him, the way your heartbeat quickened, the way your skin flushed beneath his touch.

He would easily burn the world down just to stay in this moment. To make it stretch out forever, the two of you wrapped up in each other, bodies and souls entwined.

You clung to him, lost in a haze of bliss, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, crashing down, sweeping you away. He followed soon after, groaning as he came undone, his movements growing erratic.

He rode out his climax, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep inside of you. Then he collapsed against your chest, his breathing ragged, his body slick with sweat.

You could feel his heart pounding against yours, and the sensation made a giddy laugh bubble up inside you. He lifted his head, his expression equal parts shocked and amused.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your laughter, the two of you tangled together, a mess of limbs and sheets. Then he sat up, pulling you into his lap, your bodies still connected, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"I fear I'm going to keep you in my bed for the rest of eternity," he mused, stroking a hand through your hair.

You giggled, snuggling closer to him, your arms winding around his neck.

"It's a good thing I like you then." You teased.

Kol grinned, kissing the tip of your nose. "Just like? You wound me."

"Hmm," you hummed, pretending to think. "I suppose I like you a lot."

"Well, I suppose I like you a lot as well," he quipped.

"Good," you sighed, resting your head against his shoulder. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"Not ever," he whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss.

You were still catching your breath, tangled in Kol’s arms, when a sharp knock on the attic door made you both freeze.

"Kol, there's news."

Elijah’s voice.

Your stomach dropped as your eyes snapped to Kol’s. He looked equally unimpressed, his smug post-coital bliss evaporating into exasperation.

"Go away, Elijah," Kol called, his chin resting lazily atop your head. "This is hardly the time."

There was a pause.

Then another knock, firmer this time.

"It’s important, Kol."

Kol groaned, flopping back against the pillows dramatically and pulling you down with him. "Honestly, you’d think he’d know better than to interrupt such a special moment."

You smacked his chest, still mortified by the thought of Elijah standing on the other side of the door. "Kol, just tell him to leave before-"

Before you could finish, the door creaked open.

Elijah stepped inside, his face composed… until he saw Kol in bed, bare-chested, disheveled… and then you.

Wrapped in the sheets.

Still very much in Kol’s lap.

A rare, almost human moment of horror flickered across Elijah’s usually unreadable face. His shoulders went stiff. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

And then, very slowly, he turned his back to you both, adjusting his cuffs as if that could somehow fix this situation. "I… was not aware you had company."

You wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear. Kol, however, was completely unbothered. If anything, he was amused beyond words.

"Well, perhaps you should learn to take ‘go away’ seriously," he said cheerfully, pulling the sheets up around your shoulders in a poor excuse for modesty.

You buried your face against Kol’s chest, horrified.

Elijah cleared his throat, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. "I’ll be brief."

"Please do," Kol drawled, stroking your back. You buried yourself further against him, wishing you could vanish.

Elijah took a measured breath, ignoring Kol completely. "We caught the killer."

Your head snapped up. "What?"

Elijah nodded, still very pointedly looking at the ceiling rather than at either of you. "Turns out, it wasn’t a dragon. There was no mythical beast involved at all."

Silence.

Your stomach twisted. "What?" You repeated.

"The culprit was a rogue witch," Elijah continued, clearly eager to finish this conversation and erase it from his memory. "He was targeting young people he believed had latent magical abilities, using ritual sacrifice to steal their power."

You stared at him, blinking.

Kol tilted his head. "So… no dragons stealing virgins, then?"

"No, Kol." Elijah replied flatly.

Kol nodded slowly, taking this information in. "Ah."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Kol laughed.

Not just a chuckle. Full-bodied, amused beyond reason, utterly entertained.

You, however, were not laughing. And neither was Elijah, who shot a quick glance at his brother, confusion written all over his face, before turning away again.

"I will leave you both to… whatever this is." Elijah said, gesturing vaguely at the two of you. "Just... please make use of the lock."

He was gone in a flash, and you buried your face against Kol again, mortified.

"This is not funny, Kol!" You cried.

Kol, of course, was still laughing, you tried to squirm out of his arms, but he held you tight, pulling you back against his chest.

"I can't believe you're laughing right now!" You huffed, smacking his arm.

He snorted, his body shaking with laughter. "I'm sorry, love, I just..." He shook his head, still chuckling. "This whole situation is hilarious."

"To you," you grumbled, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Doesn’t change the fact that you were absolutely desperate for me." He said, and you glared at him.

"Shut up." You muttered, pulling the sheet around you.

Kol's lips curled into a smirk, and he pulled you closer.

"Don't pout, love," he purred, brushing his nose against yours. "Don’t be shy about it now. The damage is done. Your virtue has been thoroughly ruined."

You groaned, covering your face. "I hate you."

Kol grinned, crawling over you again, his weight warm and familiar as he kissed your jaw. "No, you don’t."

You sighed, relaxing just slightly as his lips trailed along your collarbone.

After a moment, Kol shifted, resting his forehead against yours, his voice quieter now. "Do you regret it?"

You hesitated.

Because, no. You didn’t. Not even a little. The two of you felt so connected, like a missing piece had finally slotted into place.

Your eyes met his, and you shook your head.

"No. Never."

A smile tugged at his lips, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Good."

"But, um," you bit your lip, glancing towards the door. "I'm definitely never looking Elijah in the eye again."

Kol snorted, and the two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles, tangled in the sheets, the stress and fear of the last few days finally fading away.

Because you were safe, and Kol was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Everything else would just have to wait.

[misserabella]

two geniuses (playing love)

masterlist!

synopsis; feelings flourish in between the two of you as you’re forced to act as a couple. could a kiss finally let the two of you understand what was really going on underneath your supposedly hatred? you’re scared to find out.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, guns, shots being fired, girls being bitches, bickering, lots of teasing, so much flufffffff, spencer and reader being confused, pining, neck kisses, making out (their first kiss!!), violence, guns, shots being fired, spencer gets flustered a lot, also gets a boner… (so much more that i probably can’t remember)…

“so what do we know about this unsub?” hotch asked, all of you were sitting on the police station around the table, trying to understand this killers motive.

“well, we know his killings evolve around y/n.” morgan stated the obvious, to what you sighed.

“stalkers may exhibit a range of psychological issues, including personality disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and delusional disorders like erotomania. stalking behaviors can also be influenced by insecure attachment styles rooted in childhood experiences.” spencer added, and you nodded.

“erotomania is a delusional disorder that makes a person believe the person of their infatuation hace reciprocated feelings or love and affection, when they don’t. it may even be a person they’ve never met. they might even be famous, like a politician or an actor. people with this disorder can be so sure of this love that they think they’re in a relationship with this person. they may not be able to accept facts that prove otherwise. it is also called de clérambault syndrome, and it’s rare. it can happen on its own. but it’s usually linked to another mental health condition, like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. it can last for weeks or years.” you recited as if you were reading it off of a book.

“you two are like an encyclopedia.” emily smiled, chuckling.

“so this killer will go to the extreme of killing for you if needed.” jj nodded.

“seems like it.” you answered.

“he also seems pretty possessive and protective of you. he seems to have noticed spencer too.” morgan pointed out.

“you think he might think we’re dating?” you inquired with disbelief.

“it would play to our favor. if our profile around him is right, he might not be able to control the need to stay quiet about it and take action.” gideon said, what made you scoff.

“so what now? we should hold hands and act like a happy couple? fuck no.”

“y/n.” hotch scolded you.

“i’m sorry but that’s not gonna work. if none of you have noticed, spencer and i don’t really get along.”

“shocker!” emily sarcastically said, to what you squinted your eyes at her.

“come on guys… i can’t be the only one who doesn’t see this working out.” you tried to make up their minds and spencer pitched in.

“yeah. and to be honest i don’t want to become the unsub’s new target.” spencer pointed out.

jj stepped in. “it's true that your relationship has been strained, but you're both intelligent individuals. i’m sure you can put aside your differences to sell this lie. it's not about whether or not you like each other; it's about stopping this unsub at all costs." you listened to her words, groaning. she was right. you needed to stop acting like children and work together to catch this unsub.

you looked at spencer, who was already looking at you, communicating with a nod.

“you’re right.” you sighed at jj. “i guess it’s the only way, huh?” you gave in.

hotch stepped in, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "good. now, let's think through the details. we need to create a plausible backstory for your relationship, make sure your body language and interactions are believable, and be prepared for any curveballs the unsub might throw at us. this isn't going to be easy, but I have faith in both of you, and I know you can make this work." you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“how should we… how should we act around each other?” you inquired, cringing internally.

rossi answered “for your relationship to appear authentic, you'll need to display a certain level of intimacy and affection.”

“holding hands, touching each other frequently, being in close proximity… you can't come across as distant or awkward, as that would immediately raise suspicions.”emily added.

“you need to convince the unsub that you're truly in love with each other." jj finished and you scoffed.

“well that’s gonna be easy…” you sarcastically said, bracing yourself for what’s about to come.

-

his hand is warm, big engulfing your own. and clammy. spencer is nervous, awkward, you can feel it as you two walk through the beach, the light breeze hitting your skin, the salt engulfing your lungs.

you two have not said one word since you’ve left the headquarters, not on the way back to the hotel, or when you moved your things into his room, or on the way to the beach…

silence. total and absolute silence.

this was your new reality. to play fantasy with the person you hated the most. to act as if only love was what stood between the two of you and not this immense hatred that gnawed at your insides.

“did you know that by the amount of germs a hand holds it’s actually safer to kiss?” he asks, and his voice sounds hoarse by the silence he has buried himself in.

you hummed. “does that mean you’d prefer me to kiss you instead or hold your hand?” you asked, and he choked.

“what? no! no, what i meant is… i just…” you chuckled.

“relax, reid. it was a joke. i want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re so tense that whoever saw you would think im holding you hostage and making you hold my hand.” he scoffs.

“sorry. it’s just… awkward.”

“tell me about it…” you sighed, leaving your beach bag down onto the sand. “i think this might be a good spot.”

“for what?” he inquired, letting go of your hand.

“we’re supposed to be on a date, reid. doing things a couple does. you know… watch the sunset, spend time together… all of that.”

“oh.” he muttered. “yeah. that makes sense.” he nodded, watching you take out a couple of towels to spread them across the sand.

“gonna help me or stand there watching?” you chuckled, and he quickly moved to help you, muttering a ‘right, sorry’ that made you laugh internally. who’d know spencer could act like this? embarrassed and coy in front of you?

then he sat, book in hand. of course. “seriously? you’re gonna read right now?” you inquired him and he looked up at you.

“why not? the beach is one of the most relaxing places to read.” he shrugged, and you shook your head, pulling from your beach dress to get it off, leaving yourself on a blue bikini.

his eyes trailed down your sun kissed skin, the sun was setting, giving you a golden hue that made you shine.

“come with me.” your words took him out of his mind, his eyebrows raising as you offered him your hand. “come on.” he seemed suspicious, but again, he had to trust you if this lie was gonna be bought. and so he took your hand and got up. he tried not to think about the fact that your body was mostly exposed, and about the feeling of your soft smaller hand on his bigger one.

you let him go once he was up on his feet, and he took off his shirt, leaving him on his swimwear.

“so i wasn’t actually hallucinating it the last time… where were you hiding that?” you teased him, looking at his soft but toned body. he rolled his eyes.

“stop looking at me.”

“why? does it make you nervous?” you rose your eyebrows. “do i make you nervous, spencer?” you leaned in and he took a step back.

“no. i just don’t like it.” his nose scrunched up and you hummed.

“yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, giving him your back to start walking towards the shore.

“no. really.” he followed you with a frown, feet fast behind you.

“it’s okay, spencer. your little crush on me it’s cute.”

his eyes widened. “what?! i don’t have a crush on you!”

your feet met the water and you walked in. you heard his splashes behind you as the water met your knees. it was just the perfect temperature.

“you’re dumb.” you said while facing him once again. and he gave you an incredulous look.

“i’m not dumb! why would i be dumb?”

“because of this.” and with a quick movement you were maneuvering him into the water, leaving him splashing your thighs and tummy. you laughed at his glare and shocked expression, his pretty hair now mildly soaked. “god. reid. it’s the second time this happens to you. you don’t learn!”

“you think this is funny, do you?” he asks you, looking up at you.

“definitely.” you nodded, still chuckling, your chest heaving up and down with ragged breathing.

“yeah?”

“yea-“ but before you could finish he was grabbing your hand and pulling you down into the water with him. you froze as you fell on his lap, water splashing around the two of you.

“well, check who’s in the water now, huh?” he was laughing at your shocked expression and damp face before he noticed the position in which the two of you were in, his laughter dying quickly enough.

his eyes met your body, wet in droplets that slid down your chest and navel towards your hips submerged in the water and on top of his. he swallowed at the feeling of your soft weight on him, the swell of your chest right in front of his face, centimeters away from his lips. the curve of your neck… your hair falling over it and down your collarbones… the warmth of your hands on his shoulders, the softness of the skin of your hip under his unconscious grip.

you looked down at him. at his messy hair that had started curling due to the salt, at his thin yet toned build, his heaving chest, his sharp jaw, his hazel puppy eyes, his long lashes… the way he was now looking at you…

“uhm…” he cleared his throat. and the spell in between the two of you broke. you shook your head.

“i should probably…” you pointed at your back, trying to gesture that you should get up, and he nodded, pulling his hands away from your body.

“yeah. yeah.” he nodded, and you used him for leverage to get back on your feet. it was awkward. the tension in between the two of you as he too got back on his feet, neither of you looking at each other. the sun was setting.

“i think i’m gonna… go read.” you nodded.

“yeah. okay. i’ll… i’ll meet you there.” he copied the shaking of your head, and after a couple of seconds in silence he staggered in turning around and getting out of the water. you only went in deeper, submerging your head under the waves, where there was no noise, and no thoughts clouding your head. no doubts. although you could still feel the vivid heartbeat of your heart, crashing harshly against your ribs.

spencer tried to focus on his book, but as much as he’d like to not admit it, his eyes were zeroed on you.

-

“okay…” you hummed. “ursa minor.” you pointed at the sky.

the sun was long gone, and yet, spencer and you still were on the beach, lying on your towels, admiring the map of stars above your heads.

spencer took his turn, pointing just a little bit far away from your constellation. “ursa mayor.”

“now that’s and easy one.” you rolled your eyes teasing him, and he couldn’t help but copy you.

“okay. what about… camelopardalis?” he pointed it out in the sky and you hummed.

“now you’re just showing off.” he groaned.

“oh, so now i’m showing off?” he smirked and you nodded.

“yeah, come on. you could have just pointed out draco. instead you chose camelopardalis? you’re a show off.” he chuckled.

“okay. maybe i just wanted to shut you up.” he shrugged and you laughed.

“now, that’s not easy.”

“tell me about it.” he mumbled. “hey look. it’s saturn.” he pointed it out, it shining more than a normal star.

“and mars.” you said, pointing it out as well.

“and dwarf planet 1 ceres.” he added and you looked at him with your eyebrows raising.

“you’re bluffing.”

“i’m not!”

“yes you are, reid. that planet can only be seen with binoculars. you wear glasses!”

“how do you know that?” you laughed.

“caught you!” he rolled his eyes.

“okay. maybe i memorized tonight’s sky map, so what?” you chuckled at his response.

“you’re a nerd.”

“yeah? well so are you. what’s your iq, 170?”

“177.” his eyes widened. “what?”

“i mean. i knew you were intelligent. but we almost share the same iq. that’s… that’s impressive.”

“was that a compliment, doctor reid?” you smirked.

he shook his head with a smile, scoffing. “no.”

“it was though.”

“it wasn’t.”

“it totally was.” your bickering caused him to laugh.

“you’re insufferable.” he groaned, and you smiled.

“i know.” you two rested in silence, looking at the sky. “this isn’t so bad…” he looked at you. “i mean, sure. i don’t like you. and acting as your girlfriend totally sucks, believe me. but i thought it would be worse.” he hummed.

“you have a way of complimenting someone and at the same time insulting them that is fascinating.” he said, and you chuckled. “by the way… what time is it?” you took your phone.

“almost one am.” you answered his question.

“we should probably get going.” he muttered and you rose your eyebrows.

“you want me back into your bed so soon, reid?” he scoffed.

“you really like to assume those kinds of things. in the end i’m gonna start thinking you’re the one who wants me in your bed.” your eyes widened.

“fuck no!” you said while getting up from the towel, and he smirked up at you.

“you sure?”

“of course i am.”

“then why are you avoiding my eyes?” he got up to stand beside you, a smirk on his face. you wanted to punch it out of him.

“i’m not.” you scoffed.

“but you are.” your skin rose in goosebumps as he stepped closer, your breath hitching when he took your chin and made you look up at him into his hazel eyes. the moonlight made them shine. and for a moment you forgot that he was teasing you, playing with you.

“i don’t want you in my bed.” you said, straight into his eyes, pushing away his touch. he smiled.

“okay. i’ll believe you.” you looked away from him as he started gathering his things and put on back his shirt. you wondered why your cheeks were burning. why your heart was racing.

he put your beach bag over his shoulder. “let’s go.” and even though your body jolted underneath his touch as he took your hand to guide you down the shore back to the hotel —and you reminded yourself that this was all part of the lie you were playing—, you let him.

-

“how are our lovebirds?” garcia asked through the phone and you rolled your eyes.

“would be better if you’d catch this guy now…” you said, and heard snickers from the other part of the line.

“he’s behaving, isn’t he?” morgan inquired and spencer frowned.

“what?! what do you mean behave?” you shushed him.

“he’s not being so bad… usual reid.” morgan laughed. “any news on the unsub?”

“actually, yeah.” jj said. “we caught him lurking on the beach you guys visited, but he was far from our reach. seemed pretty angry.”

“so he’s getting closer…” you nodded.

“he seemed to buy into the lie of the relationship.” spencer hummed and you nodded.

“you guys need to keep it up. if our profile is right he will not stand still and watch, he’ll confront the two of you soon.” hotch said.

“alright. we will.” you promised.

“we’ll keep in touch.” emily said before the line went dead and the two of you looked at each other.

“what should we do now?” he inquired.

“go to the pool.” you smiled and he groaned. “come on. he needs to see us.” you said while getting a bikini and entering the bathroom to get changed. once done you got out and found him with a pair of red trunks. “now that’s the spirit.” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. “come on, reid. the sun is up and shining for us. time to sunbathe!” he took some of his books and his sunglasses, following after you out of your room and though the hallways of the hotel until you two were met by happy squealing and laughter from the children enjoying their time in the pool, splashing each other.

you two took a sun lounge each, his umbrella staying open while yours stood shut as you applied tanning oil to your skin after getting rid of your shorts. spencer kept his summer sheer shirt, laying sat up straight in the sun lounge as he quickly went through the pages, reading 20.000 words per minute. you laid on your own, bathing in the warmth of the sun as it prickled your skin.

you were enjoying the tranquility until some shadows took over your sun. you peeked your eyes open to see three girls standing over the two of you, sweet smiles on their faces as they stared at your right. more like… at spencer.

“hey.” one of them caught his attention, and his hazel eyes pulled away from his book towards the blonde.

“what are you reading?” a brunette asked him next, and he stuttered just the slightest before answering.

“uhmm… anna karenina. it’s from leo tolstoy from 1878. it deals with themes of betrayal, faith, family, marriage, imperial russia, society, desire, and the differences between rural and urban life. it’s actually my second time reading it. this time in the original russian.” he spat out, babbling as the three girls listening. more like ate him up with their eyes.

“you’re cute.” the third and last girl, another blonde smiled, and spencer’s eyes widened.

“could i get your number?” the brunette inquired him and you sat up straight, slightly clearing your throat, what made them look at you. “and you are…?”

you smiled. “his girlfriend.” spencer looked at you scandalized, what almost made you laugh. “i mean i get you guys…” you said with a smirk, leaning over him, your chest pressing against his as your arms circled his neck. his breath hitched as you hummed, looking at him before looking back at the three girls that now stunned looked at you. “he’s just too cute, isn’t he?” you took his face with one of your hands, making his lips pout out. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes. you smiled at him, his cheeks flushing at your words and the way your body just pushed closer against his. “but he’s mine.” you crooked your head towards the girls. “so if you don’t mind…”

“actually i do mind.” the brunette said. and your eyebrows rose. “i don’t see your name branded on him.” you slowly pulled away from spencer, getting on your feet.

you smiled softly at her. spencer didn’t like it one bit. you never smiled. not like that. “what’s your name?”

“ashley.” she answered, and you saw spencer getting up get beside your from the side of your eyes as you gave her a once over, your eyes landing on her pool heels. he was cautious, he knew something was wrong. sweet intelligent spencer…

“i like your shoes.” you started, simple, and she looked confused at you. “you gonna… be able to run in those?” you inquired.

“what?” and before she knew what was happening you were launching yourself towards her. good timing spencer was fast enough to catch you in between his arms as her friends pulled her away, running from you with ‘let’s go!’s.

“yeah, that’s more like it. see you, ashley!!!” you said while fighting spencer’s tight hold on you. “bitch…” you murmured when they got lost into the hotel. he let you go when you had seemingly calmed down and stared at you.

“what was that?”

“what? she was being a bitch.” you shrugged and got back to your sun lounge.

“no. i mean. what was that?”

“reid. i’m supposed to be your girlfriend… don’t you think that’s how a girlfriend would act?” you inquired him, and he looked around, scratching his nape.

“i mean, yeah but…” you cut him off.

“then it’s settled.” you said before closing your eyes and getting back with your sun.

he stared at you, still in shock and with flushed cheeks. his mind got filled with images and moments from the last days; you in the pool the night you’d thrown him in, how you had teased him, how your lips had almost touched his, last night at the beach when you had fallen on top of him… and now… seeing you that way, had done… things to him. things he didn’t want to accept. his whole body was tense, his heart was stuttering, his eyes whole face was red, and his stomach was feeling bubbly and… well. okay. no. enough.

he cleared his throat and sat down beside you, retrieving his book, trying to dismiss the knot in his throat. he looked at you. at your slowly tanning skin, the shine it had due to the oil you had bathed yourself in, your beautiful curves accentuated by the white bikini you’d gone for today, your soft features, your long lashes, your plump lips, your soft jaw, the soft skin of your neck, your…

when his eyes dropped too low he looked away, clearing his throat.

he tried to go back to the russian, but he was flustered. after minutes of trying to get back in focus, he gave up, getting up and pulling his shirt off, what caught your attention.

“where are you going?” you inquired.

“i was gonna go for a swim.” he pointed to the pool, and you sprung up.

“i’ll join you.” you smiled, and his heart stuttered at the recurring memories of that night in the pool. let it go, spencer.

following him into the water, you sigh at the fresh feeling of it engulfing you and making your overheated skin find solace.

spencer dampens his hair, pushing it backwards in a slick manner that exposes his strong cheek bones. but it’s when you finally stop staring at him that you notice it.

his breath hitched when your arms surrounded his neck, pulling him closer, your chest pressed against his as you spun in the water.

“what are you doing?” he inquired you, his hands subconsciously grabbing your hips. to push you away? to pull you closer? who knew…

“your twelve o’ clock. i think it’s our guy.” you muttered in his ear swiftly, smiling at him as if you were absolutely smitten, playing with his hair. spencer looked just for a moment. it was a white male, in his late thirties, wearing glasses and a cap, staring straight at the two of you with clenched fists.

“he surely doesn’t look happy.” he muttered to you, pulling you closer. “looks like it might be him.” you hummed. “what should we do?”

“well you should definitely act like you love me.” you smiled, cupping his cheek. “like this…” you looked straight into his eyes, and his breath hitched. if he didn’t knew better you’d have fooled him, ‘cause you were looking at him as if you craved nothing else, no one else but him.

you almost chocked when one of his hands found your hair, his breath pressing against your neck just before his lips did. “does this work?” he inquired you, pressing another chaste kiss on the sensitive skin.

you had to come and get back your trail of thought, ‘cause he had stolen it away just that easy. it was unnerving.

“you tell me. you’re the one facing him.” you whispered, and he hummed against your skin. you had to pretend as if it y didn’t send shivers down your spine.

“he’s just staring.” he stated.

“he wouldn’t dare do something with this much people around.” you figured.

“or maybe he just doesn’t want to taint his image before you. he wants to meet you in the perfect way, perfect place, perfect time.”

“what a romantic…” you rolled your eyes.

“he’s moving.” spencer announced.

“leaving?” you inquired and he nodded, his soft stubble scratching your neck and making you shudder in his arms.

“seems like it.” once out of sight he let you go, and you looked away from his eyes, the imprint of his hold on your hips still lingering on your skin, his kisses still burning your neck.

“he won’t be able to hold on for much longer...”

you nodded, fidgeting. “i’ll… i’ll go tell the team.”

“yeah. okay.” spencer copies your shake of head, and you got out of the pool, his eyes training on your back and down your body before he caught himself staring, quickly looking away and pushing his hair back anxiously. he could still feel the softness of your skin, smell the coconut tanning oil you’d lathered yourself in, remember how right you’d feel in between his arms, taking whatever he gave you…

he sighed. get it together reid.

but he had to spend a while in the water to properly calm down before making his way back to you. this was gonna end badly.

-

dinner with spencer was easy. it was a warm night. and he looked good. with a blue button up shirt and white pants along with his brown shoes. it was easy to talk to him, even easier to let him pay and let him walk you by his hand through the hotel and into the gardens of it. it was so easy to live this lovers lie that it terrified you. the moon and stars were shining bright above your heads, and the silence that filled the distance in between the two of you was as comfortable as it could get.

that was until he was breaking it to stutter about theories of the universe. theories you already knew. but for once you decided to keep quiet and listen to his rambling, enjoying the way his eyes sparkled with knowledge, the way his lips curled into a smile with every little fact that spilled from them…your heart was hammering inside your chest. it has been since the time in the pool. you were scared he could feel your heartbeat by how tight he was holding your hand. you’d come to understand that he wasn’t that bad. sure, he sometimes could get under your skin and make you lose your temper, but spencer reid could be as soft as a feather when he wanted to, and that made it all even worse. you were used to his narcissism, to his hatred, not to his ‘love’. was this how he really was or just another lie? just another façade? you were haunted by the feelings that this side of him flourished in your body.

“there’s someone following you.” since the spotting in the pool, the team had made sure to give you an earpiece each to communicate with you in case of emergency. jj’s voice made spencer’s waver, but to play along he just pulled you closer and continued with his theories. “seems like the man you told us about, y/n.”

you two slowly stopped walking, looking at each other as he kept talking, waiting for orders.

“he stopped. he’s just… watching.” emily announced and you inquired spencer and the team.

“what should we do? he’s not gonna come to us that easily…”

“reid, kiss her.” hotch ordered and his eyes widened, breath hitching and his hold on your hand hardening.

“what? no! i’m not going to kiss her!” he whispered-yelled, completely astonished.

“the physical contact will drive him to approach you both. we’ll be right there.” morgan chirped in, trying to convince his friend, soothe his anxiety. but spencer wasn’t scared of the unsub. he was scared of you. terrified. terrified by how good it felt to have you this close, to hold your hand, to see your smile, to share time with you… he wondered if this last thing would make him crack. would make him understand that it wasn’t hatred all along. he wasn’t sure he was ready to know the truth.

“there must be another way, i-“ he tried, but you groaned at his hesitation, taking the matter into your own hands.

“for the love of god, reid.” you grabbed at his curly hair, and in a tug, you pulled him down against your mouth. he froze at first, surprised, in shock at the soft feeling of your lips against his, at the feeling of your chest tightly pressed against him. but then it all completely changes, he can’t get enough. he cupped yor face in between his warm hands and pulled you closer, until there was no space between you two, something he must hate, but only finds himself enjoying. you gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside, pushing you against the wall of the hotel, devouring you as if he had been waiting years for this moment. you were air. and he was drowning.

“slow down…” you breathily moan against his lips, and he groans.

“i can’t.” he confessed.

the kiss that follows is just as desperate and harsh, your tongues dancing around the other as he kisses you like you’re everything he’s ever craved. you feel him press against you, and the feeling of a bulge on his crotch surprises you.

“you seem to be enjoying this a little bit too much, reid.” you said with a smirk as you felt his growing erection pushing against your thigh to find solace, some friction, anything to make him feel better. he’s losing control, he knows. but he looks into your dazed eyes and he knows you are falling just as hard. he hopes the fall doesn’t hurt as bad as his heart right now.

“i hate you.” he muttered against your lips.

“say it like you mean it.” and before he could kiss you again, the sound of a gun being loaded sounded.

“get away from her.” a male voice filled your ears and spencer stepped away from you, leaving you cold, confused and in need of more you thought you’d never crave. “get away!” he repeated pointing at him with the gun.

“okay, okay… calm down…” he softly said, taking a couple of steps away from you.

“how do you dare touch her?!” he screamed. he seemed scattered. “nobody should touch her. she’s mine!”

“no, she’s not.” spencer said just as morgan knocked the unsub to the ground, a shot being fired, the bulled burying itself inches away from you on the wall. he was quick to reach out for you as you looked down at yourself. “are you okay?” he inquired, taking your face, inspecting it.

“don’t touch her!” the man screamed again as you nodded.

“easy!” morgan yelled as he cuffed him up.

“yeah… i’m alright.” you muttered and spencer nodded, looking right into your eyes. you could still see his flushed cheeks, and his swollen wet lips, could see traces of you left behind. you wanted to taste him again. and again. and again. until the only thing you could remember was him and his lips, and the feeling of his body pressing against you.

that night. something changes. and it scares not only your bones, but your soul as well.

-

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The year is 1848. You are Anne Brontë, and you have written a cautionary tale for young women about the dangers of marriage and how you cannot reform a rake, and that the notion that "women's gentle influence" can do anything towards fixing corrupted and vicious men is a perverse lie. To get this point across you insert a conversation between two characters close to the beginning of the novel where you logically argue "You would have us encourage our sons to prove all things by their own experience, while our daughters must not even profit by the experience of others." and then you illustrate your point through how, despite loving her aunt dearly, your main character cannot understand the extent of the danger she's in because her aunt will only allude to it in vagueries. Surely nothing can be clearer and more forcibly expressed, right?

Reviewer at Sharpe's London Magazine:

"we cannot but express our deep regret that a book in many respects eminently calculated to advance the cause of religion and right feeling, the moral of which is unimpeachable and most powerfully wrought out, should be rendered unfit for the perusal of the very class of persons to whom it would be most useful, (namely, imaginative girls likely to risk their happiness on the forlorn hope of marrying and reforming a captivating rake), owing to the profane expressions, inconceivably coarse language, and revolting scenes and descriptions by which its pages are disfigured."

(now you can better understand the tone of the preface to the second edition)

Bonus:

"we consider the evils which render the work unfit for perusal (for we go that length in regard to it,) to arise from a perverted taste and an absence of mental refinement in the writer, together with a total ignorance of the usages of good society... despite reports to the contrary, we will not believe any woman could have written such a work... at the first glance we should say, none but a man could have known so intimately each vile, dark fold of the civilized brute's corrupted nature; none but a man could make so daring an exhibition as this book presents to us. On the other hand, no man, we should imagine, would have written a work in which all the women, even the worst, are so far superior in every quality, moral and intellectual, to all the men; no man would have made his sex appear at once coarse, brutal, and contemptibly weak, at once disgusting and ridiculous. There are, besides, a thousand trifles which indicate a woman's mind, and several more important things which show a woman's peculiar virtues. Still there is a bold coarseness, a reckless freedom of language, and an apparent familiarity with the sayings and doings of the worst style of fast men, in their worst moments, which would induce us to believe it impossible that a woman could have written it. A possible solution of the enigma is, that it may be the production of an authoress assisted by her husband, or some other male friend: if this be not the case, we would rather decide on the whole, that it is a man's writing."

We love a person who can read a book about how women, even high class women, do not and cannot escape horrifying scenes of abuse and degradation by men in Victorian society, and are, because of their special legal and economic vulnerability, most often the target of it, and go "this couldn't have possibly been written by a woman because ladies cannot have any experience whatsoever of such things."

[jinx-xxed]

Wriothesley Headcanons

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Something simple while I work on pt. 2 of “sweet mornings” (and some other ideas lol)!! I hope everyone’s pulls went well :)

Content; NSFW 18+ headcanons included

Wc; 1.6k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

☆ Outside of the Fortress, Wriothesley refrains from big shows of PDA, always concerned somebody may target you because of it, because of him. Even if you can handle yourself, he can’t help being too careful.

☆ He’ll always hold your hand or take a quick kiss on the cheek though.

☆ When you’re in the Fortress, Wriothesley can’t seem to leave you alone except for when he’s working. If he has any free time, he’ll immediately come find you and be all over you. Unless you’re the one working of course, then he’ll merely sit nearby and enjoy your presence.

☆ If you visit him while he’s working, you’ll usually find yourself in your comfortable spot curled up in his lap. Wriothesley certainly doesn’t mind, it’s quite easy to keep reviewing and signing documents while you doze off with your head tucked nicely beneath his chin, one arm wrapped snugly around you.

☆ You spend every meal together, either in his office, in the cafeteria, or out in the overworld when you two can sneak away for lunch. It’s something he always looks forward to, those simple moments with you where he can set aside his duties for a little while.

☆ Wriothesley can read you like a book, no matter how well you think you’re hiding your emotions. He’s gotten a knack for it after having to read the faces and body language of all the prisoners that come through the Fortress.

☆ That’s why he finds himself able to trust you more than anyone else. He feels inexplicably at ease around you, your honesty in all senses calming something within him.

☆ It took Wriothesley almost a year of knowing you before he let you finally investigate his gauntlets after your incessant asking. You’d said you were fascinated by the machine work and whenever he brought them out you were always staring with wide eyes. The ecstatic grin you gave him when he agreed at last is something he won’t forget.

☆ Wriothesley loves to listen to you talk, your voice is one of his favorite sounds. He thinks it’s adorable when you get excited about something you’re passionate about, going on and on about it with this sparkle in your eye. You always share new discoveries in your research or the plot of the latest book you’ve been reading (he never has time to read so he likes hearing you tell him the story instead), and it couldn’t make him happier.

☆ Sometimes old memories get the better of him. Sometimes he’ll wake with a start, his heart beating too fast and a thin layer of sweat on his skin. When that happens, you’ll brush his hair out of his face, tell him he’s okay, and take him upstairs so you can make him some tea. You’ll sit with him in silence until he feels better, until his mind has calmed and those dark memories are beaten back to where they came from. You know he’s alright when his hand finds yours, a whispered thanks falling from his lips.

☆ Wriothesley comes to bed late most nights, slipping under the covers so carefully to try not to disturb you. It’s usually futile, your brain subconsciously waiting for him to join you and so when he’s finally there, you immediately cuddle into him. He’ll put those strong arms around you and it makes everything right in your world. You both are out like lights a minute later.

☆ He’s in constant disbelief that you’re his. He never expected to find someone like you, someone who fits with him like his missing puzzle piece. You’re so perfect that he sometimes feels guilty about it, about keeping you down in the Fortress with him, deep under the sea. You’re always quick to reassure him, promising you’re there purely of your own decision. You’ll tell him how much you love him again and again until any trace of doubt is washed away for good.

☆ You adore caring for Wriothesley, when he’ll let you. You can tell he’s been independent his whole life, eager to do things by himself, so you try to help with the small things. Brewing the hot water for his tea, delivering paperwork, fixing up any kind of busted machinery. Then, in the later hours, you’ll hold him close and run your fingers through his black and silver hair, reveling in the way you feel his body relax against yours, his content sigh tickling your skin.

☆ Wriothesley is always holding you at night, your warmth being the best way to chase off the cold he feels creeping in his bones. He enjoys when you snuggle right into his side the most, not even a hairsbreadth of space between your bodies.

☆ Sometimes he’ll stop by your office just to see what music you’re listening to. You always have something unique playing, something he hasn’t heard before in any of the operas or shops around Fontaine. It’s vastly different from the classical he has playing in his own office, but he’s quickly come around to the pumped up beats and vocals.

☆ Sigewinne is beyond grateful that you showed up in the Fortress. She’s never seen the Duke so consistently at ease and she knows she has you to thank for that. She’ll giggle to herself over the way he follows you like a dog sometimes.

☆ You’re very flexible with his work schedule, knowing how unpredictable or brutal it can be some days. There’s been a few instances where your dates have consisted of just sitting quietly in his office while you both work, enjoying each other’s company. Wriothesley thinks himself unbelievably lucky to have found someone like you who’s actually happy simply working beside him when the papers pile a bit too high.

☆ He’s always sure to take you someplace nice after days like those.

☆ You box together! He originally scoffed at the idea when you suggested it, but decided to humor you after seeing you were dead serious. He tried to go easy on you, holding his strength and thinking this was just something for you to get out of your system, but very quickly had to switch up when he realized you were extremely intent on knocking him on his ass. Now you two go blow for blow without a second thought, much to Sigewinne’s dismay.

☆ Your boxing matches are a great way to release tension or to get warmed up. More often than not, they result in you pinned under Wriothesley after he got a little too hot and bothered by your sweaty body and displays of strength.

☆ Being in your arms is Wriothesley’s safe space. When something’s troubling him, or he’s had a rough day, or when he just needs you, that’s where he’ll find himself. It washes away all his worries, even if for only a little while.

» ☆ «

NSFW

☆ Wriothesley very much enjoys using his full body weight against you, pressing into you and pinning you to the bed so that all you can feel is him.

☆ Trust that he will be using those sharp canines. He loves to nip at your skin and hear the noises you make.

☆ He’s put his handcuffs to use more than a few times. It all started when you offhandedly asked about them, trying to be sly, and as a response he locked them onto your wrists and watched as your face turned red. It was a long while before they finally got taken off.

☆ Morning sex is one of his favorites. Fucking into you first thing is a great way to start his day and keep him going, your quiet moans and soft body so perfect for him.

☆ Wriothesley is big on praise, giving it to you whenever he can. Saying how good you are, how well you take him, how much you were made for him, how much he loves you. He can’t degrade you unless you ask, but even then he has to make up for it with plenty of kisses afterwards.

☆ There’s times where he’ll tease you relentlessly, bringing you up and down again over and over until you’re begging and in tears. He can’t help it, you look pretty when you cry.

☆ If you’ve been gone for a while, like on a trip for work, it’s impossible to get him off you. He’ll take you wherever he can; in bed, on his desk, on the couch, in your office. He can’t get enough of you and he missed you so much. His nights were so lonely without you, spent with his face buried in your pillow while he rutted against the sheets, having to use his hand to get off.

☆ Wriothesley is very cuddly after sex, pulling you in and encasing you with his big, warm body. Even if he has somewhere to be, he’ll take at least a few minutes to just bury his head in the crook of your neck and breathe you in. You think he does it to ground himself.

☆ He’s always ready to try new things with you when you suggest it. He’s eager to please you, to let you use him the way you want. Seeing you lost in your pleasure is something he takes great joy in. It’s a two way street of course—you always return the favor.

☆ You’re constantly amazed by his body, his strength and all his scars. You see that and think of how gentle Wriothesley is despite it all, how much he cares for those around him, your wonderful man. On quieter nights, you’ll take your time kissing each of his scars, of which there’s many. You love doing it because it’s the one thing that makes him flustered, a pretty blush on his face when you’re only halfway through.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I am so glad about your booktube post. Their entitled, condescending and frankly bigoted behavior is something I am frustrated but utterly powerless about.

I am particularly crept out by just how many of them use social justice language to both justify their hatred for everything and everybody out of the norm and make it harder to spot.

The most blatant and most disturbing example I saw for this is someone named crowcaller. If you don't look at the bigger picture and don't know these books it seems like she criticizes sexist, ableist and queerphobic tropes in obscure bad YA books from 2000-2010. Very necessary work, and without context her criticism seem reasonable and rooted in real life problems.

Then she did that with books I had actually read. And oh by did she not just interpret it in the most bad faith possible and completely ignored the Zeitgeist and conventions and history of the genre, she also just. Did not pick up anything but the most obvious plot beats, character motivations and messages, and then got condescending about the book being too shallow and openly cheered on the downfall of this series.

She also constantly presents herself as this fighter for minorities rights, especially disabled peoples rights, but then I caught her talking about a mental health issue she never had and has no experience with as if she 100% knew how this works and how this needs to be portrayed. I know this issue, and what she claims is only something a small part of the community feels. However, it is what aligns with neurotypicals automatic horror about this, so these opinions are the only ones that spread.

After that, everything fell into place. How she writes "I've seen it all" about tumblr, quirkily saying how good she knows this site without being one of *those* tumblr users. How she made her entire career out of mocking books targeted at girls. How she doesn't acknowledge the things that are progressive about these books at all. How she never outright says how teen girls are so silly and stupid and inferior for liking these books, and how [insert ableist slur] people who hyperfixate on uncool things like these are, but it resonates in every video she does.

I am queer and autistic too, and as I was still too naive to spot it, I was so glad that someone like me for once managed to create a platform and be heard. Turns out she could only do that, because unlike me and most other queer autistic people, she is confident to the point of not being able to see just how unqualified she is, and even more, she only says exactly what neurotypicals (and the more assimilated queer autistic people) want to hear.

And I get it, it feels good to think you are superior to those pathetic boy obsessed girls. Which probably makes this such an effective tactic.

I hate how platforms only ever push people like this. And I hate that people like this are able to shape the publics opinion when they have the least skills for that.

I hate how they get away with hiding their loathing behind feminism, or anti-ableism, or queer advocacy while mocking everybody in these groups who doesn't manage to conform.

Now, crowcaller is far from the only Booktuber who uses these tactics. But it struck me particularly much because she as an queer autistic person really should know better than behaving like this. Peak Pick-Me. And also... using your minority identities and progressive beliefs to hide your bigotry behind is just so gross.

And I hate just how little people seem to pick that up.

I'm gonna be real dude I think my nitpicks of various videos and whatever you've got going on specifically with this crowcaller person are like. maybe totally different issues.

I'd also like to point out that re: your first sentence, referring to the entirety of booktube as "entitled, condescending and frankly bigoted" as if every person posting about books on youtube is sone sort of hive mind is exactly the kind of unsubstantiated overgeneralization that I have been dogging on various booktubers for making. I am by no means trying to expose all of booktube as corrupt or innately bad, namely because that's impossible to do for hundreds if not thousands of unaffiliated creatives with wholly different styles and interests.

[loves-n-kisses]

can you write a Suo slowly falling in love with the reader, who is shy and fearful, but also very teasing and playful with her friends. If possible some headconons and a one shot. Please, please, please

I GOTCHU ANON 💪🫡🔥

Suo Hayato x Shy!Reader

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Headcanons!

nosy af

Suo first notices you because of the contrast in your personality.

Around strangers, you're reserved, eyes darting nervously, voice barely above a whisper. But with your close friends, you're a whirlwind of playful jabs and sly grins, teasing them with witty remarks.

He's intrigued by this duality, wondering what it takes to earn that playful side of you. "CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!" iykyk

he approaches you like youre a stray cat

knowing you're shy, Suo is careful not to overwhelm you.

He starts with small, polite interactions-offering a kind smile when you cross paths or asking a simple question about something you're comfortable with, like a book you're reading.

He's patient, letting you warm up to him at your own pace.

cutie patootie guard dog

your fearful nature tugs at Suo's heart.

He notices how you flinch at loud noises or shy away from confrontations.

Without making a fuss, he positions himself as a subtle shield-standing closer when you're in a crowded place or smoothly redirecting conversations that make you uneasy.

He never calls attention to it, but you start to feel safer around him.

loves the baby steps!

Suo is delighted when you finally tease him, even if it's hesitant at first.

maybe you jokingly call him "Mr. Mysterious" for his cryptic smiles.

He responds with sum like, "Only mysterious until you figure me out."

banter becomes your shared language, easing your shyness over time

SLOW BURN RAHH

Suo's feelings grow quietly.

He admires your courage to be playful despite your fears, and he finds himself thinking about your smile long after you've parted ways. He starts seeking you out more, not in a rush but with a steady, deliberate warmth, like sharing his umbrella during a sudden rain or offering you his jacket when it's cold. we love the chliches-

listens when you speak.

maybe one night, you open up about something that scares you-a small confession, maybe about a past experience.

Suo listens intently, his usual teasing tone replaced with quiet sincerity.

He shares a rare glimpse into his own thoughts, not much but enough to show he trusts you.

These moments engrave themselves into your relationship, making you realize he's not just a charming enigma but someone who truly sees you.

WOAHH HERE WE GO WE LOVE JEALOUS SUO

When he sees you teasing a friend with that bright, playful energy, Suo feels a flicker of jealousy.

He doesn't show it overtly, but his smile tightens slightly, or he might interject with a smooth, "Am I being replaced as your favorite target?" It's light, but you notice the way his eyes linger on you, hinting at his growing feelings.

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

Can't Help but Fall - Oneshot!

The evening air is cool, the sky painted in hues of orange and purple as the sun dips below the horizon. Furin High's courtyard is quiet, save for the distant chatter of students leaving for the day. You're sitting on a bench, knees tucked close, nervously fiddling with the strap of your bag. Your friends had just left, their laughter still echoing in your mind after you'd teased them about their terrible taste in snacks. Now, alone, the world feels a little too big, too exposed.

Suo Hayato appears like he always does— silently, as if he's part of the scenery until he chooses to be noticed. His single eye glints with that familiar, unreadable amusement, and his smile is as calm as ever. "Mind if I join you?" he asks, voice smooth like a melody.

You startle slightly, cheeks warming. "Oh, um, sure," you mumble, scooting over to make room. Your heart does that annoying flutter it always does around him, like it knows something you're too shy to admit.

He sits, leaving just enough space to feel respectful but close enough that you're aware of his presence. "You were relentless with your friends earlier," he says, tilting his head. "Calling Nirei's snack choice a 'crime against taste buds'? Harsh."

You bite your lip, a nervous habit, but a spark of your playful side flickers. "It was a crime. Who eats seaweed chips with soda?" Your voice is soft, but there's a teasing lilt that makes Suo's smile widen.

"Fair point," he concedes, leaning back. "But you're awfully quiet now. Saving all your wit for them?"

You duck your head, fingers tightening on your bag. "I'm... not great with new people," you admit, barely above a whisper. The confession feels heavy, like you've handed him a piece of yourself.

Suo doesn't push. Instead, he pulls a small packet of tea leaves from his pocket-his latest obsession, you've noticed-and holds it out.

"Want to smell? It's jasmine. Calming, supposedly." His tone is light, but his gaze is steady, like he's offering more than just tea.

You hesitate, then lean forward, inhaling the faint floral scent. It's soothing, and so is the way he watches you, like he's memorizing the moment. "It's nice," you say, a small smile breaking through your shyness.

"Good," he replies, pocketing the tea. "I'll bring you some next time.

Maybe it'll help with the nerves." There's a warmth in his voice, not teasing but genuine, and it makes your chest ache in a way you don't quite understand.

A sudden shout from across the courtyard-a group of rowdy students-makes you flinch, your shoulders hunching instinctively.

Suo shifts closer, just a fraction, his arm resting casually on the back of the bench, creating a subtle barrier between you and the noise. He doesn't comment on your reaction, but you feel the weight of his quiet protection.

"You know," he says after a moment, "I like how you light up with your friends. It's like you're a different person. But this version of you-" He glances at you, his eye softening. "This one's pretty great too."

Your face burns, and you try to deflect with a shaky laugh. "What, the scaredy-cat version?"

He chuckles, low and warm. "The real version. The one who's brave enough to be both."

Your breath catches. You want to tease him back, to call him out for being so unfairly charming, but the words stick in your throat.

Instead, you nudge his arm lightly, a bold move for you. "You're too smooth, Suo. It's suspicious."

He laughs, a sound that feels like sunlight. "Suspicious? I'm an open book." But the way his eye lingers on you, soft and searching, tells you he's holding back as much as you are.

As the courtyard empties and the stars begin to peek through the dusk, you realize you're not as scared anymore. Not with him here, his quiet strength and gentle teasing weaving a warmth around you that feels like the start of something neither of you is ready to name.

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

note: i love how fucking sly suo is. like, you can never tell what he's really thinking unless he tells you. and hes very perceptive. i love me a smart man- ANYWAYS DRINK WATER MY POOKIES

-made with loves n' kisses! 💋✨

[m4pachesgoticos]

❛ HOW THEY ACT WHEN JEALOUS ❜

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x GN!READER

BANG CHAN ❨ Unpredictable ❩

Being the leader means Chan needs to keep himself in check. He would rather keep calm and be in a level-headed mindset when approaching anything. He usually tries to be empathetic or keep anything he feels to himself, to avoid any conflicts... but, it doesn't always work that way, especially when it comes to you. He does slip from time-to-time.

Chan has been in the music industry for a good portion of his life, so personal relationships, the ones that develop into romantics, are rare for him because of how scared he is of losing someone. In his head, you're one of the very few he's had first experiences with, and losing you would break him.

Bottling up his emotions, comes with a sense of fight or flight. So, he's unpredictable.

With emotions so intense, he will zero in on whoever is stealing your attention, as if they got a target on their back. Or, might even black out, after a series of thoughts that have turned into overthinking and there's no telling what he'll do next ── the aftermath is him feeling guilty for letting his emotions get the better of him.

Of course, he knows that you love him more than anything and would never jeopardize your relationship ( and vice versa ), which would make him feel even more guilty. With some words of affirmation and physical affection, he will slowly let go of all of the negative thoughts and get back to what really matters.

LEE KNOW ❨ Territorial ❩

Minho's mannerisms and personality are much like a cat ( what a shocker ), he's very territorial, especially when it comes to safe places he has in people close to him: the boys, his cats, and you.

He doesn't like the feeling that pools in the bottom of his stomach if he witnesses you smiling, talking, etc in the same way to others in the same way you are with him ── he also doesn't know how to show that something's bothering him, so he'll resort to being territorial.

There's no shortage of moments where he's giving you his jewelry to wear or shoving articles of clothing in your arms and playing it off as him thinking that you looked cold/hot or that your shirt had a small stain ( it didn't ). Of course, he'll excuse it off as him treating his partner as he should when you call him out. But, you both know the truth.

CHANGBIN ❨ Pouty ❩

It's no surprise that Changbin's softer than he looks. He's the king of “Don't judge a book by its cover,”. More often than not, he's a gentle person, in touch with his feminine side, and extremely pouty.

If you're busy with something or giving someone else attention, his lips will pucker slightly as his eyes look between you and whoever it may be. Doesn't matter if it's one of the boys, friend, family member, or stranger off the street: he truly wants you to be focused on him.

Being the empathetic person he is, Changbin can read people's body language, which is where jealousy comes into play. Life is mysterious, and while you both love each other, he can't help but feel somewhat insecure, especially at the thought of you wanting to be with someone who isn't in the spotlight ( even if he'd ultimately understand ).

He would need some reassurance to stray him away from the green monster trying to climb up his back, to be reminded he's your one and only.

HYUNJIN ❨ Annoyed ❩

Being an idol means dealing with negativity occasionally. Hyunjin is used to it, how to not show his true emotions and be professional. That being said: he gets extremely annoyed when someone tries to flirt with you.

He'll find it disrespectful if someone approaches you with the intention of trying to sweep you off your feet, especially if he's open with the relationship between the two of you.

Never matter how much he'd like to let his jealousy take over and call the person out, he doesn't like being that version of myself ── he would, if he's pissed off enough, kiss you right after. Long enough to make you feel breathless and brush it off as him ‘missing you’.

HAN ❨ Anxious ❩

Anxiety rules over his life. He tends to second guess himself, overthinking: performances or general life decisions. He'll spiral until he's bouncing his leg, or picking at his fingernails ── it's taken him many years to not let it have a hold on him like it does, and it's still a work-in-progress.

If and when Han comes across you, his partner, being approached by someone in more than a friendship way, he slowly shuts down. Thoughts of “they're just being friendly” to “what if I'm not good enough” start to roll in. It's a cycle that goes around and around in his head until he's close to a panic attack, otherwise becoming extremely anxious.

The aftermath has him in a daze, when you see what's happening and tend to him. The only way Han is able to come down from that is being cradled against your chest, petting his hair, while whispering sweet nothings.

FELIX ❨ Avoidance ❩

Felix is the group's embodiment of sunshine. He's not afraid to shed a few tears. From the jump, he's someone who cares about what others think, especially of him ── how you view him, means the world to him…which is why he takes an avoidance approach.

It's out of character for him to not immediately beam at the sight of you, or cling into your arm, every chance he got.

Right away, you'll be able to pick up that something's wrong. You'll glance at the corner of your eye to see him standing right beside you, hands to himself, face blank as he quietly looks between you, the person you're talking to, and the floor. There would be a certain look on his face when shifting his gaze to the opposing person, and then it'll click that he's jealous.

To let him know there's nothing to worry about, you'll be the one to initiate physical touch, by lacing your fingers with his, rubbing the back of his hand in a soothing manner. He'll perk up a little, moving a bit closer to feel your love and warmth.

SEUNGMIN ❨ Calculating ❩

He's an observant person. Another member who's skilled with hiding how he truly feels, not wanting others to have the upper hand, like he does.

It takes so much for him to let his walls down and to be vulnerable enough to fall in love with you, so imagine him when he sees someone trying to flirt with his partner ── his eye will twitch before he's calculating the person trying to impress you, jealousy seeping into his veins.

He'd watch the interaction: how you stand, talk, breathe, almost everything to catch something out of place. If you're uncomfortable ( anyone in a relationship would ), he'd clock it right away with a “Can't you see they're not into you. Read the room and get lost,”

After, you'll tease that he's such a softie for feeling some sort of way, and he'll scoff, muttering how annoying you are.

I.N ❨ Loud ❩

The youngest of the group follows in Seungmin’s footsteps, but skips to the part where he calls it out, not leaving room for jealousy to step through the door. He is also a bit dramatic, resorting to embarrassing himself and whoever's involved, but doesn't care if he's loud to prove his point.

“You see this person?! All mine!”

He isn't afraid to challenge someone, go toe-to-toe: Jeongin has always been seen as the baby, even after so many years. Sometimes it can get frustrating to have to prove himself that he isn't the young boy he was when he first started. It's more so an insecurity he's developed from the beginning.

If you're older than him, this insecurity will shine through his jealousy. He wants to prove he's man enough for you ── if you're younger, he wants to set the example that he can take care of you, not wanting to be replaced by someone else.

[naptimepng]

ghost who sets his eyes on a pretty florist on one of riley’s walks and makes it his mission to adopt another pet. 

bloodhound 

ghost x f!reader | 1.3k 

warnings/tags: mini fic, stalking, non consensual touching, harassment, flower language, simon is mean, reader is horny but also conflicted but also horny, vague stockholm syndrome?, lowercase, references to coercion/manipulation, ghost is so delusional but he’s motivated, light petplay, ghost takes a page out of price’s ‘im not mad im disappointed’ book on How to Manipulate Pretty Birds, handjob daydreams. a/n: uhhh i have no excuses i just think he’s so hot. typed up on my phone, will properly edit and update later. had some vague thoughts inspired by that one ghouljams drabble from ages ago idk. gentle reminder that i am blocking any minors/ageless blogs that interact! summary: ghost sets his eyes on a pretty florist on a walk with riley, and decides he could do with another pet. 

he can see you through the windows, golden lettering stuck to the glass spelling out the name of the shop, and painted in pretty cursive underneath est. 2023.

business has been booming; it’s rare that the shop is nearly empty like it is today. he doesn’t pay it much mind, knows it's a product of the may bank holiday. he's only grateful that no one’ll be there to look down their noses at him when he corners you later. 

he pretends to inspect a bouquet of dark purple-black flowers, fingering the waxy petals and turning over the small handwritten label to read your neat scrawl; black madonna lilies symbolise transformation, rebirth, and the hidden depths of the human psyche. 

apt, he thinks.

he sniffs, glancing down at riley and shaking his wrist to loosen his grip on the leash. it’d look unintentional to onlookers, like an owner letting his skin breathe for a moment after the chafing fabric of the leash. the dog looks up at him, and ghost clicks his fingers quietly, gesturing with a jerk of his chin to the other side of the shop. target. 

riley nudges at his hand and waits for another click. ghost cocks his head, waits for you to set the half-made bouquet in your hands down before he kisses his teeth, and the dog is off. 

he barrels into you, tail wagging wildly, tongue wetting your fingers as you laugh, surprised but happy, and scratch under his chin, petting at his ears and neck. 

“hello,” you coo, bending at the waist. “you’re very friendly, aren’t you?”

stupid girl, he thinks, scowling as he dips his chin to peek under your skirt. your dress is too short. 

you straighten then, glancing quickly around you, looking for an owner. your dress falls back over your thighs, and he grits his teeth. 

he is nothing if not persistent, though. years of sniper training had drilled that into him—so he waits. lets riley get one last pet, then tugs lightly on the leash when the dog looks back at him, awaiting further instructions. ghost clicks his tongue, muttering a low heel, riley. he comes obediently, returning to his side and sits quietly. 

ghost steps around the corner then. staring you down from underneath the brim of a black ball cap, dark hoodie pulled over his head even in the heat.

he can see when your eyes land on him. the flex of your throat as you swallow, the small shift of your feet, angled towards the shop door, your expression tightening, and he knows that your brain is screaming at you to run. 

he’s not the prettiest, he knows that. months spent in underground cells soaked in his own blood and years of service had done that to him. the bridge of his nose is crooked from being broken one too many times and being set badly the last. the scar bisecting his lip stretches when he gives you a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. you catch a glint of silver on his lower canine, a flash of it as he runs his tongue over his teeth. he’s tall too, thick and built, even through the hoodie.

“mutt likes you,” he murmurs, hooking a finger into riley’s collar to tug him back a little. 

“h-he’s very sweet,” you whisper, too scared to look away from the man should he lunge for you. 

he shifts on his feet and you twitch, shoulders drawing up to your ears but he only sniffs and cocks his head. 

“dress is awfully short,” he murmurs, unashamedly looking you up and down, his dark eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts beneath the sweetheart neckline of your dress. you try to excuse him—maybe it was accident, maybe he didn’t mean to look for that long—but when he glances up at your face and gives you a mean smile that reveals all his teeth you know deep down it wasn’t.

you shiver, belly hot with something you don’t want to examine too closely, and swallow to wet your throat.

“you can’t—th-that’s not appropriate of you to say, sir.” 

“oh, isn’t it? just sayin’ a fact, aren’t i? on’y warnin’ ya, might attract the wrong type of man,” he grins, mean and predatory. he licks his lips, glancing down at your tits again, nostril flaring like he’s scenting you. “y’got a phone?” 

“what?”

it comes out incredulous—surely he doesn’t expect to earn your phone number after the borderline harassment he opened with. 

he repeats himself, voice gone low and dangerous. mouth downturned in a scowl like you’ve done something wrong. like you’ve disappointed him. he holds eye contact until you visibly swallow and look down at your hands. 

“um, yeah.” 

“give it ‘ere.” 

you root in your bag, one of the straps thrown over your shoulder. he watches the tight flex of your fingers around it, holding the strap in place and feels his cock swell in his jeans. thinking about the hot slide of your hand around him, constricting like a cunt. 

oh, and look at that. no ring on your finger either—good; one less job for him. 

“you live around ‘ere?” he asks, already knowing your answer. 

“ye—no. no. i, um—i… take the bus,” you say, face creasing in a brief grimace at your slip-up. 

“hm.” 

you hold your phone to him, gnawing anxiously on the tip of your finger. 

(nasty habit, that. he’ll train you out of it soon enough.) 

he clears his throat and stares at you, gaze heavy. 

“drop it,” he orders, voice rolling like distant thunder. he raises his eyebrows expectantly when you don’t immediately deposit the phone in his palm, and has to hide a smirk when you finally give in, reaching to drop it obediently into his hand. 

“good pup,” he mutters, big thumbs typing his number into your contacts, saving it under owner. you’ll fret about it later, he knows, flustered and indignant. unaware that he’ll have you under his thumb soon. 

his number saved, he hooks a finger into the strap of your bag and tugs, pulling you forward a little. you stumble as you go, palms up to catch yourself on his  chest with a panicked look on your face. realising that you’re suddenly too close to him and recoiling. 

his grip on you is too strong though, rooting you to him despite your attempt to step back. he tucks your phone into your bag carefully, adjusts the strap and pats your cheek when he’s done. 

“good girl.” 

you blink up at him, not sure how to feel. anxiety flutters in your chest, wondering whether you could call this harassment or just… men being men. not sure whether you should be kicking up a fuss, calling him indecent and presumptuous for getting that close to you, or letting him toy with you like he is now. small smirk on his lips, clearly enjoying your indecision. he stares down at you with his head cocked like he’s examining you. he’s tall enough that he has to dip his head to look at you properly, towering over you until he steps back and lets you breathe. 

“go on, pup. back to work with ya,” he says, jerking his chin in the direction of the bouquet you’d been working on. he folds his arms and tugs riley away, watching you gather yourself before turning back to your work station. 

he thinks the red roses in your hands must be divine intervention with the shy glance you give him over your shoulder when he turns the corner. 

he pats his back pocket, tracing the thin outline of your id that he’d slipped into his jeans while you’d been hyperventilating at his proximity. you’ll get used to him, he thinks. his good little girl. he’ll have you well trained in no time. he won’t tell you that he knows your name, or that he has already made a copy of your key from when you ‘lost’ it last week. or that he had released the dog on you to let him get used to your scent, considering that you’ll be moving in soon.

and, he smiles to himself, it’ll be easier to track you now. 

[hvlcy0n]

SAY IT (PT. 1) . . . hayato suo x fem!reader

+ you’ve never reciprocated any of suo’s confessions of love, but a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation among you and your friends grants him all the insight he needs.

+ 4.2k words

+ NSFW (MINORS DNI) // UNEDITED // brief mentions of sex // mentions of edging at the end // brief mentions of overstimulation // mentions of past heartbreak/insecurities // established relationship // manipulation // i got all the big stuff but i’m definitely forgetting some minor stuff i’m just tired of looking at this

+ this is my first time writing suo so plEASE cut me some slack, i got tired of seeing it every time i opened google docs. i left any descriptions/names of your friends extremely vague on purpose so you can fill in whoever. the NEXT part of this will be centered around smut, but this one was more just kinda the build-up to his decision to push you out of your comfort zone.

suo has always been able to see right through you.

granted, that was his area of expertise—the ability to pierce through people’s defenses as if they were nothing more than a gossamer film and unearth whatever information he resolved to discover. he was regarded as dangerous by both allies and enemies, capable of sinking his fingertips into peoples’ psyches and peeling back the layers until their self–control began to fracture and ruby welled beneath his touch and trickled down to obscure his opponents’ vision in an all–consuming bloodlust that left them vulnerable and uncoordinated. 

he had a critical eye and a terrifying intuition; and while his friends wouldn’t trade him for the world, they were also aware of the uncharted territory of suo’s complex character—not to mention the existence of a small distance between them that had been discreetly established by suo himself. while he genuinely enjoyed the presence of his friends, he valued his privacy and space, and he often kept information about him restricted. he was more enigmatic than anything else. 

so, when suo offhandedly mentioned having a girlfriend, they were shocked. although emotionally intelligent, none of his friends pegged him as a romantic, his secrecy and manipulative tactics seemingly too insurmountable an obstacle in a relationship. generally, he was kind and respectful, but his demeanor could flip on a dime in the face of discourteous behavior. he could be mean—unfair.  it wasn’t uncommon for him to mask his slick tongue and cruelty behind refined language and his gentlemanly composure as he subjected his targets to public humiliation. sometimes, his emotions could get the better of him, and he could be frightening when they do. a gentleman? maybe. but there’s more nuance to him than that.

unbeknownst to them, suo was remarkably softer with you. warmth and genuine kindness emanated from every content smile and careful dance of his hands over your skin, calloused fingertips bearing an ardent reverence that would cause even aphrodite to flush. the sharp edge to his tongue smoothed, his teasing light-hearted and devoid of the faint, underlying drip of venom that could sometimes be heard punctuating his words if someone listened closely enough. when he observed you, his eyes glowed with innocuous curiosity and rather than distant analysis. 

the more time he spent with you, the more he could read you like an open book, deft fingertips tracing over even your most tattered, weathered pages and the most smudged ink to wholly bare the contents of your soul to him. he sought to know you in your entirety—your likes and dislikes, how you like to be touched, how you react to certain things. after all, the more he knows about you, the better he can protect you. 

the better he can love you.

love.

that’s a tricky subject for you to navigate, he’s learned.

you were never one to shy away from his affection. in fact, you clearly delighted in the attention he lavished you with. there was never a question as to whether you would hurry to lace your fingers with his if he reached out to you, if you would lean into his caresses, or if you would let him pepper kisses across your cheeks. you were so receptive to his ministrations, so much so that it was almost natural for your body to drift toward his in search of some sort of closeness. whatever he doled out, you returned, and that included the light banter and flirtatious remarks you two often exchanged. you fascinated him, kept him on his toes. 

the only area of your relationship that you fell short in was verbal confessions of love. suo knew that you were fiercely protective of your heart, already having subjected it to enough bruises and scrapes throughout your life to make you want to guard it to the best of your abilities. he was fortunate as it was that you had trusted him enough to relinquish it to him.

he knew that you were still learning to navigate the choppy waters of vulnerability—true vulnerability. it was easy enough to bask in suo’s attention and rely on his ability to comprehend the unspoken, but to say the words aloud would be to speak it into being, to charge the universe with the magnetic force that will bind your fate to his, to make it real. you never said anything that you didn’t mean, and suo understood that after all your hard work fortifying your emotions, to openly admit it would require you to let down your guard entirely and let him in.

there’s no doubt in his mind that you love him. he can feel it in the way you pour every ounce of heartfelt emotion into the kisses you press to his lips, your dedication toward memorizing and analyzing all of his microexpressions so that you can understand him on a deeper level, and the adoration that pools in your eyes like molten honey as you observe him when you think he isn’t paying attention. only a fool would mistake the depth of your feelings. 

he can read you like a book, that much is true, but it’s much more enjoyable to have it read to him line–by–line than to flip through the pages on his own. 

it’s quite endearing, actually, the way your skin would warm and your brain would stall whenever his lips would brush a saccharine “i love you” over the shell of your ear, or the way goosebumps would scatter across your skin and you would clench around him whenever he’d pair the words with a well–timed thrust inside you. he thrives off flustering you and witnessing your demeanor crumble into a delightful shyness that never fails to cause a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

even so, he sometimes finds himself yearning for that reassurance that you’re as irrevocably enamored with him as he is with you—that you crave him the way he craves you. he understands that it’s greedy of him and that he should tamp down such self–centered emotions. he knows what your feelings toward him are; it would be inconsiderate of him to pry you out of your shell until you’re ready in order to satisfy his own desires. the concept of love operates differently for different people, and he can accept that. 

it always slips his mind how swiftly things can change.

it was a complete coincidence when he’d stumbled upon you in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant, accompanied by a few  friends of yours. he recalled you telling him that you were going out for lunch with them, but he had no idea that his outing in search of a new pair of shoes to replace his worn ones would cause your paths to cross. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on your conversation, only to simply greet you and then continue about his business, but he paused when he heard his name leave one of your friends’ lips.

“so, are you and suo still together?”

oh? before he can even acknowledge the gravity of contravening your privacy, his body is sparked into motion all on its own. he’s quick to retreat, melting into the slanted shadow proffered by the slim alleyway he had been poised to exit, just beyond the scope of your view.

he’s well aware that this is an infraction of the trust you extended to him, but he forces himself to disregard the prick of guilt aside in favor of potentially learning valuable information about the inner workings of your brain. it may not be ideal, but it’s for the best, he reasons. what if you reveal to your friends ways that he could better serve as your boyfriend? what if you feel more comfortable explaining to your friends your reservations about returning his heartfelt confessions? besides, the conversation is technically also centered around him, so surely it would be rude to bar him from listening in.

“of course,” the thought of you denying your relationship was never a concern for suo. you both trust each other implicitly, but to hear you stake such an immediate, explicit claim over him rouses a ticklish spark of delight in his stomach all the same. you scoff, as if the idea was so improbable it was ridiculous. “i’ll tie that man up in my basement before i let him just leave.” suo chuckles gently to himself. perhaps you truly are as invested as he is, after all.

“the dick must be fucking life–altering, if that’s the case.” she laughs. “come on, tell us. is it?”

“wh—” suo’s lips settle into a small, amused smile as he watches you flounder under her questioning, eyes feverishly flitting to your other friends for help, only for each one of them to leave you to drown with their own wide–eyed, inquisitive stares. “oh, my god, i’m not telling you that!” nervous laughter wracks your chest. suo’s shrewd gaze can practically perceive the memories flickering through your brain as you try to maintain your composure, each one spliced together in a salacious collage that has blood thrumming beneath your skin. suo has always been one to fine–tune his craft, and his perfectionism extended to the bedroom as he used his meticulous attention to detail and acute awareness of your reactions to guide you to your peak over . . . and over . . . and over again until he was satisfied.

and of course, you knew that.

“but seriously,” another girl props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm, observing you closely. “i’ve never seen you like this before. before him, you were all ‘ew, gross, men’—not to say that isn’t still valid, but y’know. maybe suo really is a good match for you.”

“do you love him?” the first girl pipes up ecstatically.

now we’re getting somewhere.

it requires significant concentration for suo not to laugh outright when a jolt of surprise grips your body, your muscles visibly tensing and eyes rounding. your lips part to speak, but the words remain wedged in your throat. “i—uh . . .”

“wait, for real?” the third girl, who had remained quiet this entire time, finally speaks up. “do you not actually love him?”

this time, when you don’t at least make an effort to deny their claims, suo’s smile begins to wilt. from suo’s angle, your expression is sapped of the typical bashfulness he had been anticipating. rather, your features are murky with conflict, brows furrowed pensively and fingertips drumming against the chilled glass of the untouched beverage sitting between your palms. for the first time in a while, he can’t read you, and while he’s always enjoyed a bit of reticence and mystery, he doesn’t want it like this—not when such uncertainty is founded on the future of his relationship. did he misunderstand you somehow? was he wrong? no, there’s no way that you’d have done everything you did if you didn’t harbor some type of love for him. it’s simply not plausible. right? 

the silence is unnerving, causing a chasm of apprehension to split his stomach and swallow up the candlelit flicker of warmth that once resided in his chest. he’s never been an anxious individual, typically collected and level–headed under pressure. in fact, he’s always prided himself on his ability to remain composed; but now, as he stands here, body stiff and heart thumping as he waits for you to continue, he figures that love really is one hell of a drug. only the wideness of his eyes betrays his usual poise, but even that would be enough for any of his friends to notice that something is amiss. well, mature as he may be and as far above the fragility of human nature that others believe he is, he’s still only human. and it’s times like this that remind him that he’s still weak.

god, how far has he fallen? how much power did he give you?

“all this time, i thought you guys were in love.” the second girl gasps, hand flitting up to cover her mouth. “so, what’s going on? what’s wrong with him?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to find your voice to defend him, but for some reason, it doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the worried spin of his mind. “he’s wonderful, it’s just—”

“is he mean to you?” the second girl presses. “because if he is, i can—”

“he’s obviously not mean to her if she’s still with him.” the first girl retorts, silencing her with a dismissive wave of her hand. before the second girl can argue, she continues. “it could just be that it’s too early for her to know if she does.”

“it’s been months.” the third girl points out. “something has to be up if she doesn’t love him—”

“i do!”

suo’s fingers twitch.

your friends fall silent as the words burst from your chest, unwavering and aflame with conviction. your voice quiets as you fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, eyes still fixated on the cup in front of you. “i do love him, it’s just . . . i’ve never felt like this for anyone, and i don’t know what to do. it feels so real and intense, and it’s scary.”

your words reverberate through suo’s mind as he expels a breath he didn’t notice was wedged in his chest. “i do love him.” his entire body seems to decompress, the tension in his muscles alleviating. “i’ve never felt like this for anyone.” suddenly, your hesitance makes sense. not only were you protective of your heart to begin with, but the magnitude of the importance of this was much larger and therefore more frightening than he realized. suo’s heart swells in his chest at your confession, pride licking up his sternum to grace the apples of his cheeks with a feather–light kiss of ruby. he’s honored to be the first person you’re entrusting with such a privilege—well, even if he’s not supposed to know about it yet.

“what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” the first girl stares at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. she flips her hands over with her palms facing toward the sky. “tell him?”

“i can’t just do that!” this time, it’s your turn to look at her like she just told you she ran over a family of five with her chevy tahoe, and suo chuckles.

“and why not?” she flops back in her seat incredulously.

“i just told you, it’s scary!” you insist matter–of–factly. “you remember the last guy i was with? it lasted one month, and in that amount of time, i aged thirty years and had stress levels that would’ve gotten me sent to the emergency room.”

suo hums softly in surprise. you didn’t tell him about that. of course, he had suspected that someone had dragged you through the trenches prior to accepting him as your boyfriend, but he felt as though that was a topic that would be better left to your discretion. you would tell him if you wanted him to know, so he never questioned you.

“yeah, but suo is way better than him.” the third girl reminds you. “at least, i think so. i only met the guy like twice.”

“helpful.” the second girl remarks dryly.

“no, he seriously is so much better.” you insist. “he’s everything i could’ve asked for, but it’s just . . . exposing myself like that would mean he has everything he needs to hurt me, and if i end up flat on my ass again, i don’t know what i’m gonna do. and i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but . . . ugh, this is impossible.” you let your head loll back. 

there’s a brief stretch of silence before the second girl speaks up again, and this time, her voice has flattened into a deadpan. “girl.” she blinks at you. “that’s the issue?”

clearly not anticipating that reaction, you stare blankly at her for a moment, searching for the right words. “i—what?” you bristle defensively. “what’s that supposed to mean? is that suddenly not a good reason to bare my heart and soul to this man?”

“no, it’s actually really not.” the third girl joins the second’s campaign. she scoots forward in her seat and folds her hands delicately on the table. “let’s reflect. this is suo we’re talking about. this is the same man who stayed the night and took care of you religiously when you were sick with food poisoning from your first date, the same man who gave you earrings similar to his for your birthday, and the same man who showed up at your house in the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on his back to accompany you when that storm knocked your power out—as a ‘friend.’” 

“why did you use air quotes around the word ‘friend?’” the first girl narrows her eyes at the third.

“because he was playing the long game, okay? he was plotting. stay with me now.” she answers quickly, placing her hand on the first girl’s knee. 

suo chuckles, raising his brows. he has to admit, your friends are impressive.

“so,” the third girl continues. “those are just a couple examples, but it’s crystal clear that suo is devoted. like he’s in this to stay.”

“or he’s some sort of supervillain.” the second girl interjects.

“don’t say that!” the third girl snaps, aghast. “no, yeah, you’re right. the ‘untouchable’ furin graduate who took a bat to the ribs just to keep her safe is definitely here to create lifelong trauma for her. anyway, as i was saying,” she turns back to you, “if that’s not enough, think about it this way. suo is really private, right?”

“right.” you nod.

“well, he was probably in a similar boat as you, then. i mean, you said that you were worried that you’d be giving him what he needs to hurt you, but the inverse is also true, and he already told you he loves you. he trusted you not to hurt him with that information, so you should be able to trust him not to do that to you, either.”

“that’s . . . wait,” the wheels rotate in your brain as you mull over her advice, and your hand drifts up to conceal your mouth in a moment of clarity. “oh, shit. no, wait, yeah, you may have a point. i didn’t think about it like that.”

“that’s what you have us for.” the third girl grins.

“so, does that mean you’re gonna tell him?” the second girl quirks a brow at you. “maybe? probably? hopefully?”

“uh . . . probably not . . .” you wince, only to jump when you’re promptly subjected to an onslaught of groans and complaints from your friends.

“dude, what the fuck?” 

“i know, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“did you get nothing out of the conversation?”

“no, i did, i swear!” your desperate attempts to defend yourself against your friends are fractured by bouts of laughter. “trust me, i did.”

“so, what’s the problem now?” the second girl drags her palm exhaustedly down her cheek.

“the issue is that it’s still embarrassing!” you whine. “you literally said it yourself earlier. i’ve never been like this—ever! just thinking about saying it makes me wanna crawl in a hole. it makes me feel, like, exposed or some shit, i don’t know—quit looking at me like that! i don’t know how else to explain it!”

“don’t piss me off.”

 “what?” your lips pop open in indignation. “but—”

suo’s slender fingers settle delicately over his lips as he chuckles to himself and steps completely behind the alley corner. his eyelids flutter low, gaze soft with contentment, as he listens to you scramble to defend yourself against your frustrated friends. it’s alright, they’ve done plenty. he can take it from here.

the conversation bounced around between the four of you has certainly altered the circumstances, providing you with the clarity needed to shed your reservations about setting yourself up for a potential heartbreak and unfurling the remaining layers of your defense to reveal the lingering issue still barring you from being honest about your feelings. at this point, it seems to no longer be about you being ill–equipped and underprepared to handle such a divulgence, which he could certainly accept. now, it appears to be about disentangling yourself from the binds of shame and embarrassment. about you requiring a little push in the right direction—well, less of a small nudge and more of a guiding hand that you would trust to unravel you down to the strings of your heart.

fortunately for you, there is no one more aware of what loose threads of yours to tug on in order to achieve his goal than suo himself.

maybe it’s unfair of him to change his mind and concoct an excuse to denounce the leniency and understanding that had been fueling his patience thus far. maybe it’s unfair of him to take the initiative to strip you of the protective cocoon he had previously been more than prepared to allow you to reside in. maybe it’s unfair of him to press you, to utilize his silver tongue and honeyed words to draw out your rawest and most vulnerable state.

but when the opportunity has practically tripped and fallen into his lap, how could he not? it isn’t as if it would be a detriment to you. he has never led you astray, and he certainly isn’t going to start now. 

a venereal plan is already brewing in the back of his mind as he mulls over how to best extract such a confession from you. no matter what type of attitude you may acquire or how sturdy you believe your resistance to be, pleasure has never failed to whittle and melt you down into a pliant puddle that’s all soft edges and hazy, trusting eyes. an even trade—a release only he can provide for the secret you’re trying so hard to keep from him? this evening, perhaps, if he plays his cards right. you don’t have plans tomorrow, which means you certainly can’t be too angry if he keeps you awake into the darkest hours of the night. 

he can practically feel the ghost of the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he keeps you pinned so that you can’t escape his ministrations, taste the salt brimming in your tears of frustration as you war between your pride and surrendering to the pleasure he plans to dangle in front of you, and hear your whines and moans as he keeps you just barely balanced on the precipice of release. he can already predict how you’ll label him as mean—manipulative, even. and maybe he is.

he’s only human, after all. 

and what would humans be if not flawed? if not a bit cruel? if not a bit . . . selfish?

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

"Appropriate" responses to the Gaiman issue

TLDR: This isn't a Rowling situation, be wary of internalized purity culture.

He's a predator. I'm glad a proper journalist followed up where police have failed (and possibly given victims a better footing for future charges).

But I have a problem with the knee-jerk responses targeting the fandom.

Just to clarify, I'm not talking about insulting The Predator. This is about how you treat people who have/do/will enjoy the stories that unfortunately came into the world through his keyboard.

Fans aren't intrinsically evil/uncaring for continuing to participate in associated fandoms.

This is not another Rowling situation. Why? Let me clarify. The consequences of consumption are very different. Rowling is ACTIVELY using her popularity and income as a creative to target one of the most vulnerable minorities in the world. Buying official merch/books/movie tickets prove to the powers that be that she remains a good investment, so they'll give her even more money. This perpetuates the cycle - new movie/book deals, more income, more hate, rinse and repeat.

The push to avoid Rowling's work in full is driven by the fact that she has FACED NO CONSEQUENCES and is still powered by her creative properties. It's fandom/consumers trying to bring justice.

Gaiman, on the other hand, knew he was doing bad shit on some level because he kept his abuse hidden. His status and reputation let him get close to vulnerable fans and essentially intimidate authorities from going after a celebrity. He is FACING CONSEQUENCES. I would personally like to see criminal charges brought against him, but that's out of the fandom's hands. Things we could've influenced (his Disney deal appears to have gone to shit, he's been booted from the truncated final season of GO, and there's no news on Sandman 3) are already in motion. If his publisher doesn't drop him, I'd say avoiding his future works is beyond valid (I certainly wouldn't buy them). But I'm going to watch the new season of Sandman. And once I've taken time away, I'll probably finish my active fics.

"Judging" people who still enjoy his work stems from good intentions that grew out of the fetid ground of purity culture rhetoric.

Writing fanfic and enjoying shows that are already made do not make people soulless accomplices. The idea that unproblematic stories by saintly creators are the only things you're allowed to enjoy is not only flirting with censorship, but it's also impossible.

If you think people should have nothing to do with Gaiman's works, you better throw out anything Weinstein touched. That includes Jackson's LOTR trilogy, FYI. Also, anything his company officially produced (which still gives him money in some cases) should never, ever grace your screen. That includes some of the better Stephen King adaptations, The Orphanage (which was a breakthrough Spanish-language film in Western markets), The King's Speech, The Imitation Game, Woman in Gold, Paddington, and It Follows.

If you aren't willing to publicly announce your "disappointment" in anyone who continues to enjoy any of those films, then kicking up a fuss over how other people process and interact with problematic content from a fallen celebrity who is in the process of getting his dues is pure hypocrisy.

Personally, I'm maliciously complying with Gaiman's famous quote about how once a story is out there, it doesn't belong to the author anymore. Well said, Predator, these are mine now, and I shall fuck about with them as I see fit.

Attacking or snobbishly looking down your nose at the fandom also erases YEARS of beautiful critique and thoughtful exploration of existing, acknowledged problems in works like The Sandman.

People in these parts already know how to handle complex issues in complex pieces of media. Gaiman isn't our god. His canon is not our bible. He didn't teach us morality, as is apparently the case for a lot of people who grew up reading Rowling's works as a child.

If you have a problem with the censorship comment I made, I'd like to point out at least one writer friend is LEANING INTO the fandom as a way to process their own trauma. Suffice it to say they survived a very similar situation. They see it as empowering to take the stories away from the abuser and use the characters/settings to make something new.

I get the ick. I have it right now. But I'm not burning every copy of his work I own (full disclosure I have... *checks shelves* a copy of Neverwhere and The Sandman series). Doing so is totally valid, and if that helps you process and feel better - go for it!

But this is not the same as Rowling and the only ones you hurt by declaring your "judgement" is a complex group of individuals who are able to enjoy fiction, remain aware of potential social consequences, and found a place that doesn't align with your black/white morality.

With that said, judge away! I better not see any stories from Charles Dickens, anything in anyway associated with the Weinsteins, Nickelodeon shows, Charlie Chaplin references, or Francis Ford Coppola films touch your feed. If you scratch the surface, you'll find more things to judge others for enjoying, and they will inevitably find something to judge you for, too.

[justafewberries]

Themes of Implicit Submission in The Hunger Games (Book One)

I’ve just finished re-reading The Hunger Games (book one) and there are a few themes that I expect SOTR will develop based on Hume’s implicit submission theory. Specifically, these are the main six tactics I believe the Capitol uses to thwart another rebellion present in the first book alone: 

Societal Pressure:

District 12 has a “keep your head down” culture. Any talks of rebellion are frowned upon. Any anti-government statements will cause social repercussions. It’s not just Katniss rolling her eyes at Gale in the woods, it’s how she has been groomed by the culture to keep quiet about the issues pervading life in the district:

“When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol. Eventually, I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school. Make only polite small talk in the public market. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob.… Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be?” (p.6)

All of this proceeds the statement:

“Even here, in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you.” (p. 5)

Under this point, it is also telling that during the reaping ceremony, Katniss says the “boldest form of dissent [the audience] can manage,” is silence. Not outrage, not yelling, not like district 11, but silence (p. 24).

2. Division between Classes 

The Capitol has created conflict within the districts to draw hatred to a local target. In the case of the first book, Gale remarks tesserae is a tactic to keep them divided. 

“Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I’ve listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. “It’s to the Capitol’s advantage to have us divided among ourselves,” he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.” (p. 14)

Interestingly, tesserae is already known as the “courtesy of the capitol” as stamped on Haymitch’s shorts in SOTR. The Capitol markets tesserae as something it does out of goodness. It attempts to make itself seem well-intentioned via the distribution of necessary goods. It’s their courtesy, after all. 

This point also includes the division between the districts. In the games, Katniss remarks how allying with the careers is essentially traitorous. 

“No one from District 12 would think of doing such a thing! Career tributes are overly vicious, arrogant, better fed, but only because they’re the Capitol’s lapdogs.” (p. 162)

By treating certain districts better, the Capitol promotes distrust between the districts, dampening potential unionization with planted hatred. By choosing favorite children, the parent that is the Capitol forces the districts to fight. 

3. Weaponized Language

The name of the Treaty of Treason, the treaty that makes the Hunger Games necessary per the law, is definitive of how the districts are forced to see themselves. They are the ones who committed treason by rebelling, and therefore they are guilty. They must repent by sending the children to the games. The permanent treaty, read during every reaping ceremony, enforces the guilt the districts are supposed to feel. In turn, the fact it is a “treaty” means the districts must have agreed to and signed it. Regardless of the circumstances around the signing of the treaty, the capitol then has the ability to wave it over their heads henceforth. 

The name itself points a finger and keeps the districts forever at fault. 

Furthermore, the fact Katniss is referred to by her district number until and even after she is given something to remember her by (the fire) further dehumanizes the tributes. During the parade, she says the citizens of the capitol have liked her and Peeta enough to "read the program" and learn their names (p. 70).

There are many more examples of villainizing and dehumanizing language in the book, but I have chosen those examples for the sake of brevity.

4. Propagandizing Education

A major theme in many dystopian novels is how the system treats education. In District 12, Katniss tells the reader:

“Besides basic reading and math, most of our instruction is coal-related. Except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem. It’s mostly a lot of blather about what we owe the Capitol.” (p. 42)

A weekly lecture in a school is quite a lot of time to devote to any one subject. Seeing as how the rest of their curriculum revolves around district-specific content, the weekly lecture must be mandated across all districts, likely leaving the rest up to the discretion of the district itself. The Capitol once again emphasizes how the districts were wrong. It is repeated week after week, and eventually, it becomes ingrained in the social psychology of the district. 

5. Hunger and Deprivation of Needs

Continuing from the section about Katniss knows the weekly lecture must be propaganda, saying,

“I know there must be more than they’re telling us, an actual account of what happened during the rebellion. But I don’t spend much time thinking about it. Whatever the truth is, I don’t see how it will help me get food on the table.” (p. 42)

This point coincides with my second point about the division of classes. By keeping the people hungry, they are too busy thinking about the lowest rung on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. They see those who have food, and they are the opposition in front of them, rather than examining the source of the problem. By keeping the people hungry, they are less likely to have the time or ability to even think about a collective uprising. 

6. Limiting Flow of Information

The Capitol limits the flow of information between districts. In doing so, the districts are forced to make bridging assumptions about one another. This is revealed through Katniss and Rue’s discussion in the games: 

“It’s interesting, hearing about her life. We have so little communication with anyone outside our district. In fact, I wonder if the Gamemakers are blocking out our conversation, because even though the information seems harmless, they don’t want people in different districts to know about one another.” (p. 203)

By keeping them separate, they can turn any district against another. They rely solely on the Capitol for information about other districts, and therefore the Capitol has all of the power. 

Interestingly, another division between classes is shown through Peeta’s knowledge about other districts. He knows the different types of bread from the districts, implying the merchant class may have more access to information than those of the seam, leading to further division between classes. 

All in all, these are the themes I expect to be addressed in SOTR based on the pretense of implicit submission.

See Catching Fire's themes here

See Mockingjay's themes here

[spitefulsatanfics]

𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞...

— by little devil 🕯️

pairing: sam winchester x she/her reader

tone: soft angst, domestic fluff, soulbond-core tenderness, supernatural vibes

genre: canon-compliant headcanon list told through mini fanfiction scenes

rating: pg-13 for language, emotional content, and yearning synopsis: falling in love with Sam Winchester is quiet at first. And then it's everything.

📖 Waking Up to the Sound of Pages Turning

Sam doesn’t sleep much—not deeply, anyway. But when he does, it’s always with his hand on your hip and his brow still slightly furrowed, like even in his dreams he’s working something out.

When you wake, it’s to the sound of gentle page-flipping and the steam of early morning coffee. He’s at the table, glasses low on his nose, wearing the flannel you slept in last week.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice still sleep-warmed. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You shuffle over and drop into his lap. He doesn’t even blink—just adjusts his book so you can read too.

🌧️ Rainy Day Research Dates in Crappy Motels

You're both cross-legged on the bed, books open, laptops glowing.

“So I’m thinking maybe it’s a Mayan vengeance spirit,” you say, frowning. “Or a Cihuateteo,” he offers. “They target families—specifically mothers.”

Outside, rain patters against the window like a lullaby. Inside, Sam passes you half a granola bar and smiles like it’s a gift from the gods.

You lean your shoulder into his. He leans back. It’s the simplest form of intimacy, but it anchors you both like magic could never do.

🐺 Sam’s Protective Streak is Quiet but Deadly

“He was looking at you weird,” Sam says after the hunt, jaw clenched. “He was the bartender, Sam.” “Still.”

He doesn’t snap or growl or flex. He just goes still—that eerie, watchful calm that only Sam Winchester can pull off. But when someone threatens you? That calm becomes a calculated, terrifying storm.

“Touch her again,” he says to the creature in the alley, “and you’ll never see daylight again.”

You’ve never seen anything die so fast.

🌌 Midnight Talks That Spiral Into Existential Philosophy and Hand-Holding

You’re lying on your backs in a field post-hunt. The stars are out in full force, and you both smell like sulfur and smoke and victory.

“Do you ever think about fate?” you ask. “Every day,” he replies, voice low. “Especially since I met you.”

You turn to look at him. He’s already watching you.

Your pinkies brush. Then your hands thread together like you’ve always known how.

🥣 Surprise Domesticity That Feels Like a Lifetime in a Moment

You come back from the laundromat and Sam’s in the tiny kitchenette making soup. The kind with real vegetables, not just noodles and hope.

He looks up, sheepish.

“Thought you might be hungry.”

You stare at him in his hoodie and bare feet, stirring soup like some impossibly tall dream. Something about the whole thing hits you like a truck.

“Marry me.” “What?” he laughs, blinking. “Nothing. Just—thank you.”

You’ll ask him for real someday. Probably. Maybe.

📚 Reading You to Sleep Because He Absolutely Does That

He picks out classics and mythologies—stuff he knows you like. Sometimes it’s lore, sometimes it’s poetry, sometimes it's just his voice.

“And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting—” “—on the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,” you murmur sleepily.

He smiles and closes the book, letting his fingers brush your hair back.

“Goodnight, Poe girl.”

🧃 Remembering the Smallest, Strangest Details About You

You once mentioned you liked grape juice. Like... once. In passing. Six towns and three hunts later, he places one beside your coffee.

“They had it at the gas station,” he shrugs, eyes gleaming. “Thought of you.”

Sam Winchester doesn’t just remember anniversaries. He remembers the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating, the time you cried during that one commercial, and the exact brand of pens you like.

🩹 Tending to Your Wounds With Holy Water and Shaking Hands

He’s patching you up. Again. You’re making jokes to distract him, but his eyes are locked on the wound and his jaw is tight.

“Sam, I’m fine—” “You almost weren’t.”

His hands pause. His voice breaks.

“I—I can’t lose you, Y/N. I won’t. I won’t survive it.”

You take his hand, press it to your ribs where your heart still beats. He closes his eyes like it’s the only sound keeping him sane.

✍🏻 Writing in His Journal About You (Even If He’ll Never Admit It)

There’s a page with your name on it. You catch a glimpse once when you’re looking for lore on a curse. Just your name. A few bullet points. Little things.

Makes really good coffee when she tries

Calls me out when I overwork myself

Laughs in her sleep

Beautiful even when she’s pissed at me

Might be it for me

You don’t say anything. Just press a kiss to his shoulder and pretend you never saw it.

🕯️ The Quiet Kind of Love That Fills the Cracks in Your Soul

Sam Winchester won’t shout it from the rooftops. He doesn’t need to. His love is in the way he double-checks your seatbelt, the way he hands you the good pillow, the way he says your name like it’s a prayer.

“You’re it for me,” he whispers one night, voice barely there. “If I get to keep one thing, just one… I want it to be you.”

And you know—no matter how dark the road gets, how bloody the work becomes—his hand will find yours in the dark. Every time.

𓆩📖𓆪 Loving Sam Winchester feels like ancient poetry, like library dust on fingertips, like firelight and absolution.

He doesn’t just love you. He believes in you. In your goodness. In your strength. In the fact that maybe—just maybe—you’re the only light worth following.

𓆩📖𓆪

[polysprachig]

Polyglot Checklist for Setting Reasonable Language-Learning Goals for 2025:

List out your languages (main(s), target(s), side(s), etc.).

Write 1-3 main areas of focus, project ideas, books to read, films to watch, studies to complete for each language. If you have more than 3, you might list 3 main and 1-3 side aspects you would like to focus on. If you are unsure what to focus on, consider your strengths, weaknesses and as of yet unexplored topics related to the language or culture in specific, then choose 1-3 aspects which speak to your interests the most (regardless of whether they are connected to your strenths, weaknesses or the unexplored).

After making your list, view the points you've listed en masse. Rank the activities in order of most-to-least intersting or most-to-least crucial to your studies and long-term aims.

Now, look at each point again. Ask yourself: how long would it take me to complete this task if it were in my native language? How long if I had C2 level? B2 level? A2? Ask yourself: given my current knowledge base/level, usage (vocabulary + grammar + accuracy with or without resources), and access to the materials required to engage with these points/aspects, how long would it take me to prepare, collect resources, study, and practise/learn the skills/vocabulary/grammar required to engage with each of these points?

Ask yourself: Is my focus something that requires time in order to achieve? Is this skill a grape on a vine to be ripened? Is it a bottle to be cracked open? (For example: If, say, your goal is to write a short story in your target language and you already have a working knowledge of sentence structure and the tenses most required to write fiction in that language, you may be working with a bottle. Expanding your vocabulary/range of expression in order to improve your writing in that case is simply adding spice to mull the wine. But if you are still in the growing phase, your skills hang as grapes you must cultivate in a rich soil. Tend to them first.)

Use this reflection to help you reconsider your list, but do not do away with it entirely. These are interests which you may return to at a later time or in a future level.

Ask yourself (whether you like to focus on one task/language or more at a given time): what are reasonable expectations for me to have for myself, my time, my learning and my output at my current level and considering all my other interests and obligations?