#it is easier to move on when you've had clarity all your life

[prosciuttulipa]

Rambling slightly because I think Satoru and Suguru's cursed techniques are important to their characters, and why they progressed the way they did.

Satoru's Six Eyes and Limitless as innately born techniques, things that belong to him so wholly and without question, steeped in the blue of his eyes and bleached into the white of his hair. Who knows his technique the same way a child wears too large uniforms, splitting headaches no different to growing pains. Progress as visible and tangible results. Blue, Red, Purple. Logical consequences to achieving his greatness. Stepping stones already laid out for him since birth, but for his eyes only. Why is everyone so blind?

Suguru's Cursed Spirit Manipulation that inherently requires him to depend on others for power. Black hair and black eyes, just like the commoners. Who tames cursed spirits in the same way one befriends a stray, knowing that their home is on the streets and not with you. The visceral sensation of swallowing down pain so big it distends his throat, going against his gag reflex, his taste buds, every mechanism of safety. Not knowing the defining lines of 'enough'. Tolerance as a conscious choice. Already halfway to a curse user anyway. So what if he joins the wrong crowd?

[5ungchan]

DENIAL ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡. THE FOOL

HIS DENIAL WAS HIS BIGGEST DELUSION. THREADED IN BETWEEN HER FINGERS, SHE TUGS AT HIS HEART STRINGS AND HE IGNORES THE OBVIOUS. HE’D SOLD HIS SOUL LONG AGO. DANCING TO THE TUNE OF THE DEVIL; SHE’D PROMISED HIM A WISH, AND HE’D FAILED TO OBTAIN IT.

WARNINGS: MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, GUILT TRIPPING, EMOTIONAL MIND-FUCKING. LEGITIMATE FUCKING: BRATTY, BITCHY READER. FEMALE BODY WORSHIP, CUNNILINGUS, FINGERING, INABILITY TO CUM, SWITCH IN DYNAMICS, DETAILED CHOKING. SWEARING, ANGST, SLIGHTLY DARK CONTENT. POST-NUT CLARITY, ISH.

WORD COUNT: 5.7K

SHOTARO STRUGGLED WITH STAYING SOBER.

He drank you up like it was the only thing he'd ever known. Having never seen any of your insecurities. Shotaro basked in your presence, admiring everything from the surface. It was superficial. Of course, he'd fallen in love with a facade ⏤ a mirage. A woman that refused to let on more than she should. He couldn't see her insecurities because she'd projected them onto him. Making him feel as though, he was the one that needed to change ⏤ not her. She wanted to be loved, and so she used him to feel important: to feel validated. Forcing him to mould his very mind, body and soul to her standards.

WHATEVER SHE SAID, HE DID ⏤ SHE WANTED TO BE THE ONLY THING ON HIS MIND.

Regardless, he couldn't say no. In fact, he straight up refused to acknowledge the fact you'd contorted him so well. Meshing his mind like it was clay; pulling and twisting, making sure you'd dug your fingers into him. Manipulating his mind into believing that he couldn't live without you. Whatever he thought, you had a say in it. Being the judge of his actions, controlling the bits and pieces of his life. It was all easier said than done. But it felt as though, he was bound to fall apart at the seams. He lacked what you wanted in total. He couldn't always deliver. And when that occurred, you pushed him away. Disregarding everything he'd done for you.

SHOTARO SHOULD KNOW BETTER — SUNGCHAN TELLS HIM.

His best friend Sungchan couldn't wrap his head around what Shotaro saw in you. Beauty? Sure, but that was quickly shrouded by just how nasty your personality was. The tall, overly sociable giant got along with everyone, everyone but you. It meant a lot if he didn't like you. He knew you were two-faced, with an ulterior plan behind every move. Every time you'd pushed Shotaro away, Sungchan was there to help his best friend. Although, it hurt him watching his best friend scurry back to you. He was hoping that tonight, this horrid cycle would end for good.

"Gullible, naive...or are you just flat out refusing to acknowledge the truth?" Asks Sungchan.

Annoyed, he leans against the marble kitchen counter, bottle of soju in hand. Staring down at Shotaro like he was a mother scolding his child.

"She's serious about me!" Protests Shotaro, "...Really, she wants to get back together."

Rolling his eyes, Sungchan can't help but drink his frustrations down. A conversation repeated once too many times. He hated you, hated how you stole his best friend from him. Stepping all over his dignity, Shotaro was no longer capable of making a choice for himself. The bitter words ⏤ insults, that he associated with you get stuffed back down his throat. Chugging his soju, he slams the empty bottle back onto the counter.

"You deserve better."

"She's the only one I want. I think you two just...got off on the wrong foot?" Shotaro tries to offer an excuse, protecting your name despite the fact, you'd never do the same. Sighing, he finds it impossible to make Sungchan see eye-to-eye with him about you.

"Like I said: Gullible, naive ⏤ you're honestly stupid as fuck. You know she's bad for you! Said it before yourself, but you're stubborn. Refusing to accept the truth and settling for something so wrong, since you've never known anything right."

A scowl flashes onto Shotaro's face and his chest pangs, "The fuck are you on about? Who do you think you are? Running your mouth about what's good for me?"

"I'm your best friend Shotaro. Been through hell with you ⏤ had your back every time she had you running back."

"Then be happy for me."

Rolling his eyes, Sungchan can't believe the words that are fluttering past Shotaro's mouth. It was all nonsense, it wasn't like him. Not like the Shotaro he grew up with and knew. Arguing was pointless at this rate. Either he learned through his own boundaries, or fell hard on his face from you kicking him out.

"She'll be here tonight. Prove me wrong then. Show me you can stand up for yourself. That you know better than I do."

It's almost as though the walls have ears. A third eye lingering from somewhere in between the drywall and framework. It has a chill running down Sungchan's spine when he notices his words have an effect. Most people would say that the cat dragged someone in after being gossiped about, but in this case: you are the feline.

Strutting into the room with your shoulders held back, chin pointed slightly upwards. You didn't look at the ground, no, you looked straight ahead. People moved aside at the sight of you and it had an effect. From Sungchan's perspective it's almost as if the room had dimmed down. Everything was much darker than before. Were there always this many people in the room? It almost felt claustrophobic as he watches you scan the room, making your dramatic greetings. A cluster of 'hi's' and 'hello's' mixed in with hugs and waves, to the party-goers you knew. Somehow, you knew everyone. But nobody knew you like he did.

Contrary to his negative emotions, Shotaro is a complete different story. The cold soju bottle squeaks, growing tight within his grasps. The condensation running down the label and into his sweaty palms. He's frozen in awe ⏤ like always. His sugar brown eyes widen, lips falling apart before he subconsciously begins to chew on his bottom lip. You always managed to light up the room. Friendly to everyone, you practically glimmered underneath the lights. The chatter and loud house music falls silent. The world is muted, on pause as the room freezes in time. With admiration, he watches as you turn on the spot, stopping when you spot him from the living room.

A soft smile spreads onto Shotaro's face as he practically beams with happiness. Waving in your direction as you meet his gaze with a blank stare. Monotonous, unbothered ⏤ it felt like you weren't even looking back at him, but at the wall behind. Your eyes dart towards Sungchan who glares in return, rolling his eyes as he slowly raises the middle finger. The fool and his companion you think. Typical.

WITHOUT A SECOND GLANCE, YOU TURN BACK AROUND.

Shotaro feels his heart drop down to his stomach. It feels so empty inside the cavity of his chest that he can't help but feel cold. Maybe you didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone? As if anyone was looking. Everyone was getting to the point of being too drunk. However, he's sure you have your reasons. Perhaps, you wanted to keep things on the down low until things were official.

“See? She doesn't want you. Not like how you want her," Whispers Sungchan. Having leaned in close, he places a hand on Shotaro's shoulder making a futile attempt at consolidating him. "You can do so much better. She's not the only girl in this crowd ⏤ Ningning! Over by the window. She's cute, go chat her up!"

Shrugging Sungchan's hand off, he pushes his half full drink into his hands.

"You go chat up Ningning."

Shotaro immediately walks off, abruptly leaving his best friend in the dust. The sourness from their conversation making him feel somewhat motivated to prove Sungchan wrong. Staggering in your direction, the happiness practically beams from his face.

Awkwardly standing behind you, he pokes at your lower back, "Let's talk please?"

Once he's got your attention, he presses his palm flat against your back. Sliding it over to rest atop your hip, wrapping his arm around you.

"⏤So talk."

"Can we go somewhere more private?"

Pausing, you take a deep breath. Truthfully, you didn't even know if you were serious about getting back with him. What was the point of going somewhere private? Regardless, you didn't want to cause a scene. Shaking his grasps off you and silently departing from the living room.

Shotaro meekly follows you through the hallway, each of his footsteps feeling heavier than the last. He feels as though he's walking towards his death sentence, the unease fills his body as he tries to maintain his composure. He wanted to talk, so he'd talk. You didn't even need to look behind yourself, you knew he was following you.

Stepping inside an empty room, you plop yourself onto the bed. The sound of the frame creaks as you cross your legs and impatiently wait for Shotaro to begin.

"Make it quick will you? I don't want anyone wondering where I am," you say.

Shotaro pauses. Shuffling his feet against the floor, he treads carefully with his next words. He doesn't want you storming out of the room, nor does he want you to leave this room without him by your side.

"What's been on your mind lately?" He questions. Sitting next to you on the bed, he can't help but feel hurt. You don't make eye contact, opting to keep your eye on the door. Was Sungchan panning out to be right after all? Shaking his head, he doesn't want to lose hope, not yet.

"What's it you want to hear?" You prefer to give him a vague response.

"I want you to look at me," he begins, slowly placing his palm on your shoulder and nudging you, "Like how you used to."

Sighing, you turn your head to face him. Meeting his gaze, those soft brown eyes of his practically twinkle with some sort of anticipation and hope. A soft smile stretches onto his face when you follow his request. But it falters just as quickly, unlike him, you don't smile back. You hardly did anymore.

"You used to have all the love in the world for me...where'd it all go?" Shotaro can't help but whisper those words to you. Scared of the truth, terrified of how you'd react to him for asking such a thing.

"You're kidding. What makes you think I had all the love in the world...for you?" Scoffing, you can't help but let out a dry laugh at how ridiculous he sounds.

Tilting your head to the side, you lean back and stare at him coyly, "Actions speak louder than words 'Taro. Don't just sit there mumbling about this and that."

Placing your hand atop his thigh, you gently slide your hand up and down the expanse of the area, "Show me what you mean, and I'll respond accordingly."

As expected, you're met with silence on his end. He's flustered. Evident in the way his cheeks are dusted with a subtle pink.

"Sho’," you begin as you continue to lean back. Moving just until you fall against the pillows with a soft 'thump'. Bending your knees, you split them apart slowly. Allowing your skirt to pool upwards, slyly flashing your unclothed cunt. The missing article of clothing that was in question was currently stuffed into the glovebox of your car. You'd planned this.

"...'Taro. Won't you come and find out what I mean?"

Jutting out your bottom lip, you pout at him as if you were some innocent girl. He's oblivious to discern the fact that you'd just refused to look at him earlier, and now? You had all of your attention focused on him.

Feeling content with yourself when you see him stand up to crawl towards you. His knees buckle with a certain mixture of excitement and nervousness.

"You know, you've always been my favourite dancer, my favourite boy. Always so fluid, so expressive. Willing to comply whenever, wherever."

"I just want to do well for you," he sighs. He’d always tried to have your best interests at heart.

Dragging your index finger against the slit of your folds, and coating the tip in your slick, wetness before bringing it up to your lips; tasting yourself. Swirling your tongue around, before withdrawing it from your mouth with a gentle 'pop', "Mmm. Sweet, always so sweet."

He's already ensnared. Silently accepting your offer with a soft smile plastered on his face. Innocent looking, but truly the opposite when it came to you. Shotaro rests at your legs, wrapping an arm around either of your thighs. His palms gently holding onto the skin.

Leaning inwards, Shotaro inhales the scent of your skin. Admiring the body lotion you'd put on. It's much more faint, than it would've been from it's initial application, but it's a scent he'd recognized. Rubbing his nose against the grain of your inner thighs, he grows dizzy from the scent of those faint roses.

With his eyes shut closed, his lips part, tongue sticking out to lick across the faint stretch marks that decorate your skin. Puckering his lips, he alternates between soft kisses to wet streaks of his tongue. Admiring every inch of your body, that was nestled so closely to where your pussy was.

To Shotaro, this is heaven. You were the very woman of his dreams. He was always eager to please you, never saying no to your advances as he constantly navigated your body. He thought he did a good job, but he'd be foolish to think that he'd be able to dominate you. The tables were always turned against him, he was just too blinded to see.

Suddenly, you feel the tip of his nose poke at the top of your labia. Reaching for his head, you gently fist a bunch of his hair and nudge him forwards.

Shotaro drags his tongue up and down your slit, starting off slow before making contact with your clit. The feeling of the papillae on his tongue is enough to make your body shudder. Flicking the bud back and forth, switching to circular movements around the nerve as you spread your legs further apart.

The sound of his tongue lapping against the vulnerable flesh of your body and your soft huffs is enough to make the room hot. It feels closed off, suffocating even, as he gets lost in between your legs. Resorting to plunging his fingers into your depths as he takes a breather. Lifting his head to watch how you've got yours thrown back, mouth agape as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. He’d always looked up at you, admiring the way you shone with ecstasy.

WITH SUCH A EUPHORIC LOOK ACROSS YOUR FACE, SHOTARO CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL CONVINCED YOU LOVE HIM.

The curvature of his fingers hovers just above your g-spot. The place that always made you shudder, one that you had no trouble reaching yourself. However, for some reason: he never went beyond that. Blindly missing the physical cues your body made. Shotaro couldn't understand why your walls seemed to tense up around his fingers, thinking that this was probably where it felt best. He always guessed incorrectly.

"You're so beautiful. Fuck⏤ it feel good?"

Nodding your head, you silently agree that it does. Until it doesn't.

You hate how he plunges his fingers into you with no objective. Never reaching where they should be. Was he stupid? Huffing, you urge him to add another finger. Maybe now it'll help him reach deeper.

He does. The outcome remains the same.

Instead, you watch as he grows pathetically weak. With his forehead pressed against your pubic bone. Dazed and drowsy, he's drowning in how good you smell. His tongue stretched out to taste you more and more. His free hand moving downwards to palm himself through his sweats.

"Mmph, you're so sweet. So good, so, so..." he doesn't finish as he continues to help himself to your wetness.

Annoyed, you lift your head to stare him down. You always had to cum first, he should know that. He wasn't neglecting you per se, but he grew distracted by how his own length was pulsating against the fabric of his boxers. He wanted to release himself, but he needed to focus on you.

"Fucking hell. Shotaro, stop."

He doesn't hear you, not until you tug at his hair roughly. Forcing him to look upwards. Those brown eyes of his glowing with lust as he freezes when he realizes you're being serious.

"What's wrong? I thought you were enjoying this?"

Closing your knees up, you push him aside as you roll your eyes in annoyance, "Enjoy myself?"

You can't help but feel amused with how lost Shotaro looks. The worry is evident in his face, in his tone, as he sits upwards. Fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

"What did I do wrong?" he asks, as he's eager to fix things.

"You can never do this right. Always starting off well before getting lost in...whatever this is," groaning, you look away from him, "You can't even fuck me properly and yet you're asking if I've ever loved you."

Shotaro can't help but scoff at how insensitive you sound, "What?"

"Do I need to repeat myself? Seriously, you're not good enough for me. Never was, never will be," you complain, having felt so annoyed with him.

Clearly he'd never be able to meet your standards.

"You can't be serious? You know, I'd always told myself otherwise but you really are acting like a bitch."

"Hmm? Well it's about time you started realizing things," You retort. Lifting your hands up to stare at your nails, you brush him off. Ignoring the way he stares at you completely stunned. It wasn't like your rude remarks were happening for the first time either.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Why so quiet? There's no reason to be so surprised."

Shotaro feels as though he's been slapped in the face. He'd been falling for quite some time, but now? He'd finally hit the ground hard. The reality of things made him feel embarrassed. All of it practically soaking into his system: you'd finally awakened something in him.

IT HAPPENS WITHIN SECONDS, CATCHING YOU OFF GUARD.

You're completely shocked when you feel Shotaro's hand against your face. His thumb digging into your cheek, while the rest of his fingers occupied the other side. Roughly turning your head to face him.

"I want you to fucking look at me when I speak," he demands.

Raising an eyebrow, you feel stunned. This was new. The way his face had fallen still, his eyebrows furrowed angrily as the creases around his eyes made him look all too serious. He was no longer cute and soft. In fact, he looked so upset that it was quite comedic to you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd pressed one too many of his buttons. Pushing him into overdrive. You can't help but laugh. Your hot breath reflecting against his palm.

"You're laughing?" Shotaro's in complete disbelief, pressing harder against your face and pushing it against the pillows. "What'll it take for you to finally take me seriously?"

Your laughter persists, the way your voice is almost too shrill for his liking. There was no allure to it, it wasn't seductive ⏤ it made his ears ring.

"For fucks sake! Take me seriously for once!" He demands as he moves his hand away from your face and down towards your throat. Wrapping his calloused fingers around your neck, the pads of his fingertips press down roughly into your skin. His fingernails digging in deep as he squeezes hard against your larynx.

Your laughing comes to a halt, instead, you're gargling. With your spit getting stuck in between your mouth and throat. Your airway's obstructed as you can't help but choke. The sound of your hacking and wheezing echoes through the room as he presses harder.

Somehow Shotaro enjoys seeing you like this. The way your face grows slightly hotter, a darker red. Your eyes rolling back into your head with drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. Releasing your neck, Shotaro can't help but feel proud with himself. Finally, you'd be able to take him seriously.

"See? You're so much better when you're not ordering me around, or talking back."

However, the sudden cockiness in Shotaro's demeanour disappears when he notices how you've refused to move much at all. Your chest heaving slowly as he tries to shake you awake.

"Y/N?" He asks.

He receives no response, no sign. Your body lays there limp.

"Y/N?" Shotaro calls out, shaking your body as he uses his hand to gently slap you on the cheek. The worry is evident in his tone as he calls out to you.

"I-I'm so sorry. I had no idea, I didn't mean to go so far!" He protests as he holds you in his arms.

A raspy cough leaves your body, as you weakly raise your hand to rub your eyes. You couldn't see very well, everything was doubled but you'd managed to focus your gaze on him. Taking in the sights: he was worried, oh sooo worried. The Shotaro you knew was already back. But so soon?

Noticing your consciousness, his eyes widen with joy. Hugging you tightly in his arms and pressing your head gently against his chest. A string of apologies flutter past his lips as he rubs your back gently, using his free hand to pat your hair.

A series of raspy coughs leave your mouth, as you can't help but giggle. Sounding like a broken record as you scratch at your throat, the pain was immeasurable. However, the situation was way too worth it to acknowledge the pain.

"Tha-that...all you got?" You question. Lifting your head from his chest to weakly challenge him. Physically you were shaken up, but mentally you couldn't help but feel turned on.

Using whatever energy you had left, you push yourself off of him. Removing yourself from his grasps and falling back onto the mattress. Huffing slowly, your chest heaves up and down with each breath you take. You're practically shaking as your system tries to level back to it's norm.

"Shotaro," you begin, as your fingers blindly play with the buttons of your shirt. You manage to pop open a few buttons before giving up, flashing bits of your skin and cleavage behind the fabric.

Surprising him with a coy smile, you reach out to pull him by his shirt. He follows your lead, leaning in close as you stare at him dead straight in the eyes.

"That’s it?" You question, "Couldn't have gone all the way huh? Now use that...that rage, to fuck me. I want you to ravage me, pull me apart for everything I've done."

"What? I legitimately thought I'd ended you..." Shotaro mumbles in disbelief.

You scoff in response, "Baby. There's no way you could kill me. If one of us dies in this fucked up relationship; it'll be you."

Shotaro opens his mouth to retort, trying to change your mind and to get you to relax and heal. He gets no chance as you tug at his shirt, getting rid of whatever minimal distance there was and kissing him roughly. Your lips push against his as you slip your tongue in between, allowing the wetness to push through and mesh with his.

You don't let him pull away and he obliges, falling into your grasps like always. Cherishing each kiss as he meets your rough advances with his usual tenderness.

"I love it when you're you," you say in between kisses, "When you disagree with what I do, taking control for yourself."

Shotaro doesn't respond. It's not that he doesn't want to, he just no longer thinks it's worth the effort as he uses his hands to reach for his pants. Tugging them down quickly, his erection having resurfaced. He figures it's pointless to ask if you're ready, to go slow. It used to always be about you. However, things changed after today and it had to progress the way he wanted. If you thought he was still soft with his behaviour, you were wrong.

Pulling his lips away from yours, he looks downwards to line your entrance up with his cock. The tip of his dick is hot, slightly more pink than the rest as precum leaks from it's tip. He doesn't tease you: refusing to rub himself in between your folds, or tap at your clit with his member. No, he just helps himself. Pushing inwards with a groan.

It's unlike anything he's ever felt before. The way your walls squeeze against his flesh, he isn't sure if you're contracting your walls yourself, but he simply doesn't care anymore. The role of pillow princess was no longer yours. You'd simply become nothing more than a cum rag for him.

HE’D BE DONE WITH YOU AFTER THIS.

Pulling his hips back, he snaps them forwards pushing into you with force. Starting a pace that he liked, that he wanted. For once, he's the one looking down at you. Holding your hips in place as he fucks into you roughly. Trying his best to ignore the way you furrowed your eyebrows, whilst biting down on your lip. Your eyes are shut tight, eyelashes fluttering against the grain of your skin.

The bruises that decorate your neck are oddly beautiful. Clearly, you'd enjoyed receiving them too. Then it hits him, the sound of your moaning. Weak, toned down and much more hoarser than usual. The sweetness that typically coated your moans and came out with such femininity was gone now. You were quieter, less whinier and demanding.

He liked you this way: submissive. But did he really enjoy you in this way? Helplessly laying there. Allowing yourself to be fucked at his mercy. You had stars in your eyes looking at him like he was everything. But this wasn’t him, you were enamoured by an amalgamation of him caused by all your manipulation.

Shotaro finds himself falling in and out of focus. The pleasure that he feels practically radiating throughout his body is insane. Although, he can't help but feel somewhat unhappy with himself. He couldn't feel content with what this was. It wasn't right.

There was nothing more that he wanted than to see you genuinely embrace him. Loving him for who he was, reciprocating his actions in a positive way. Such a thing wouldn't have been possible in this lifetime. You just weren't built that way, with absolutely no empathy in your body. He can't help but feel that he's wasted so much on someone who regarded him as nothing.

He can't do this anymore. Watching as you shudder beneath him, the muscles in your body tensing up as your back arches from the mattress, your toes curling in unison. You'd came for the first time; evident in the way your insides clung onto him, your hands desperately reaching out for his body. But he hadn't. He simply couldn't.

Wordlessly pulling out, he searches around for his pants. Putting them on hastily, and patting down his clothes in a weak attempt to make himself presentable. Taking one last glance at you, he feels sick to his stomach. How could such a person force him to go so far as an individual. Initially it seemed beautiful, it felt hot and somewhat kinky. But the reality of things had come unraveled. This wasn’t him.

He couldn't recognize the work he'd done. With your clothes barely covering your body, the slight twitching in your legs as you simply followed him with your eyes. You don't move, he assumes you're too fatigued.

But for once, you've kept your eyes on him and it seems like finally, he's won over your heart. The bliss in your eyes is insurmountable, you're practically glowing with some twisted sense of adoration. The light sweat that adorns your body make it feel as though you're on fire. Just as Lucifer had been cast away from the heavens, plummeting down to the ground. Devilishly attractive, deceiving and cunning: you were sadistic in your intentions. It all showed on the surface now.

"Leaving so soon?" you ask, meekly calling out from the bed as you watch him walk towards the door. He hadn't even helped you clean up. It was unlike him.

"Not gonna help me clean up?" Further questioning him, when he doesn't respond.

Shotaro pauses by the door. He wants to turn around, to give in and go wash you up. But he thinks that if he did, he wouldn't be able to walk away ever again.

"You'll manage," he begins. Turning around to glance at you with a soft smile on his face. The kindness in his body was always overflowing. He was genuine, meant everything that he did, and yet you made him feel like a monster.

"Don't bother calling anymore."

THE DOOR OPENS QUIETLY, SHUTTING CLOSED BEHIND HIM.

Shotaro promised himself he would've walked out that room with you by his side. He'd imagined you'd be hand in hand, laughing with each other. Thinking that things could go back to what they once were. But Sungchan was right about him, he was naive and in fact, he was hopeless. Having faith in things that simply wouldn't occur.

Re-entering the party scene, he scans the room for Sungchan. Feeling surprised when he sees him actually talking to Ningning. His footsteps are quicker and much lighter than before as he pushes past the crowd, approaching the two of them. It feels as though the giant weight on his shoulder has been left behind.

"Guess you took up my offer then?" Shotaro begins as he teasingly nudges Sungchan in the side with his elbow.

Sungchan looks stunned as he looks at Shotaro from head to toe, side to side, "Huh? Yeah, your offer, my idea. Either way, where's...you know?"

"I ended it," Shotaro quickly responds, the smile on his face doesn't falter. As he turns his attention towards Ningning, "You must be Ningning, right?"

The doe-eyed girl nods eagerly, giving him a soft smile. Although before she can respond, her smile falters. Looking straight past Shotaro, she almost looks scared. Confused, he glances at Sungchan for any clue as to what was going on. The look on his face is the same as hers. In fact, he's speechless with his mouth wide apart. It's as if the two of them had seen a ghost.

"Ended what?" A voice asks. One that he knew all too well.

Slowly turning around, he can't help but feel like his souls left his body. You're standing there with a bright smile, and yet the look in your eyes is emptier than ever. The clothes on your body are perfectly normal ⏤ presentable. Even your hair rests nicely against the frame of your face, just a tad bit dishevelled ⏤ one could've assumed you'd been dancing a bit too hard tonight.

Everything about you is normal except for the blue and purple bruises that mark your skin. The array of red and violet petechiae patches on your skin make your neck look as though you'd been attacked. And you were.

The feeling of your arm wrapping around Shotaro's waist makes his skin erupt into goosebumps. He's uncomfortable, but you pretend as if nothings wrong. Tilting your head to the side innocently. Staring at Sungchan and Ningning as if everything was well.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me?" You ask as you stare directly at the girl opposite to you. It was obvious you made her uncomfortable as she laughs awkwardly, scanning the room for any sort of excuse to attend to. Her eyes refuse to remove themselves from your neck. She leaves without a word, practically dashing for an exit.

Frowning, you can't help but pout, "What's her deal?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He hisses. Pushing you off him as he runs a hand through his hair. You made him beyond frustrated, especially tonight.

"Babe?"

"Don't 'babe' me! I told you we're done!" He protests.

"Done? Who said you made the calls again?"

Sungchan can't help but step into the situation, pushing you back a step with his hand outstretched as you swat at him.

"Stay out of it," you warn.

"Leave Shotaro alone. He's already ended things with you," counters Sungchan as he steps forward again, eager to get into your personal space.

You can't help but scoff at his attitude. Did he think you were scared of him? Tilting your head to the side, you purse your lips in thought. Standing on your tippy toes to suddenly grab at Sungchan's throat with your hand. Guffawing when his eyes widen in surprise, "Just kidding~ I wouldn't hurt you."

Instead of clinging onto his neck, you move upwards to hold him by his chin. Tilting his head to focus on your neck, "But I will warn you."

"Seen the damage already haven't you? Yeah. ‘Bet it was the first thing you saw."

Sungchan being much taller and stronger than you, removes your grasp with ease as he glares down at you, "Don't fucking touch me."

"Shotaro didn't end anything. Not after this," You state as you rub against your neck softly. It hurt but you'd toned up your performance, dramatically wincing at how sore and numb things felt.

Pushing Sungchan aside, you motion at him to move over as you smile at Shotaro. The room falls cold as he stares back at you, mimicking the look of a deer caught in the headlights. You'd pushed him to do this. He’d succeeded in complying with your taunting, but failed to keep what dignity he’d had left in himself.

"What do you want from me?" He fearfully questions.

Leaning in close, you force him into your grasps. Wrapping a tight hug around him as you breath down his neck.

"I told you that you were my favourite dancer ⏤ my favourite boy. ‘Told you that I'd play you a tune you couldn't resist. Tonight you proved that, and you'll continue to do so in the following days," whispering into his ear. Your words carry a strong warning, foreshadowing what's to come, "When will it happen? Who knows."

With a quick kiss against his cheek, you detach yourself, taking a few steps back from him. Walking backwards as you head for the door.

"Oh, not to worry though. You'll manage!" You yell out from the loudness of the crowd, "Don't forget to pick up when I call ‘Taro."

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: 5UNGCHAN— 2024 AND BEYOND

[tlous1mp]

Drinking the Pain Away

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you've always thought that ellie loved dina, your best friend.

warning: angsty with a fluffy ending

You ordered another alcoholic drink from Seth, who said, "This is the last one for the night," before handing it to you. A tight smile had assured him that you understood. If it were up to you, you would be drinking until you'd choke. You never drank unless you wanted to escape, and tonight you were escaping the pain you felt in your heart every day.

You loved someone and they did not love you back. They were in love with someone else. They were in love with your best friend. If it was someone else that you were not close to, the pain would be easier to deal with. You and Dina were as close as you could be. Almost always by each other's side. That just made it harder.

Ellie always spoke to Dina first, always closer to her than the others, always looked at her in the eyes. She never did that with you or anyone else that you had noticed. You wished every day that she could possibly not have feelings for Dina, or that the pain would be less and you'd move on. Neither of those was going to end for a while.

You took the first sip from the new glass when someone sat next to you, "Are you going to be okay tomorrow?" she asked, her green eyes stared at you as you took another quick sip.

"I can hold my liquor very well actually," you answered Ellie, "This is like my fourth glass, no need to worry about me."

"I'll be worried about you if I fucking want to be," Ellie said gently and stole your glass so that she could have the rest in one gulp. You tried not to think about how attractive she looked then. You questioned if perhaps she knew about your little secret with that move, "I'll take you home."

You scoffed, "I'd like to stay here for a little longer."

Ellie squinted her eyes, "I am not giving you a choice. I do not care if you kick, scream, whatever you decide to do, I am getting your ass into bed," she promised, "You've had alcohol and I do not trust that guy that has been staring at you this entire night."

You glanced at the man that sat in the corner and rolled your eyes, "On second thought let's go," you whispered. A shiver ran down your back, "Men are so fucking gross," you commented as you pushed through the doors of the diner.

Ellie seemed to stand next to you closely for once, maybe in case you fell over or bumped into anything accidentally. The more steps you took towards your house, the more sober you felt. "Did the drinks help your problems?" Ellie asked.

Your eyebrows raised, "That obvious, huh?"

"No. You have never been that much of a drinker. Whatever is going on with you must suck the living life out of you," she explained, "Want to talk about it?"

You shook your head and rubbed your forehead, "It isn't easy to even think about. I just wanted to have a moment of clarity for once," you said as you stared at your shoes. That was all you would allow to talk about in front of the woman that you loved. You would not be able to handle the rejection that would come your way if you were to confess.

"I'd say the same with me, but I make sure to drink during dinner and the weekends. Makes it less suspicious," she muttered. She stared down at the houses in front of her, "Thankfully we have people like Dina that can help us get through tough shit."

Your heart broke at her name. Of course she would mention her name, everything you knew were to be true. She loves Dina, not you. You cleared your throat, "Yeah, she's great. The best. I reckon you two would make a good couple honestly."

After a few steps you realised that you were the only one walking. A glance over the shoulder revealed Ellie staring at you with sad eyes, "She's not who I want," she said. You felt smacked in the face. If it wasn't her, who does she want? "The only person who I see myself with is you."

Your eyes widened, "This is you taking pity on me because I dare to spend one night drink-"

"I promise you that I am telling the truth," she took a step forward, "I want you, not as friends or whatever the fuck we were. I want you to be mine," she pleaded, "I am all yours if you want me too."

You allowed a small smile on your lips, "I have been willingly to be yours for a while," you stood in front of her, "You are just as stupid as I have been for not noticing sooner," you whispered before cupping her face to kiss her.

[deviant-nomad]

You're not always going to get it right.

"As long as I know I'm doing my best, I can accept the fact I'm not always going to get it right." (x)

You're not always going to get it right, and that's okay. However it's not okay to not hold yourself accountable when you cause harm. even when we live and breathe this work, we will have days when we get it wrong. This work is ever changing, ever growing and we should always be willing to learn and to grow - yet so many of us refuse to view this work from the lens of others. This work is intersectional, and our intersections collide. We have to do this work for everyone, not just the intersections we experience. If we do this work solely for our own liberation then we are not doing this work. If we do this work conditionally and exclude the identities of those who make us uncomfortable, we are not doing the work. If we do this work in a vacuum, we are not doing the work. If we think we are above accountability, we are not doing the work. Regardless of if you've been doing this work for 2 months, 2 years or 2 decades, there will be days where you get it wrong. There will be days where you cause harm. Call yourself in. Have the hard conversations with yourself. We have a responsibility to this work to ensure that we are not just holding organizations and others accountable, but also ourselves. (x)

you’re not always going to get it right, and once you embrace that, it will allow you to make decisions quicker. (x)

Intuition is a practice. Begin by making small decisions: what to have for lunch, what song to play for your solo dance-party, the route to take home from work. Over time, these experiences will give you the confidence to make bigger decisions with clarity. Try it on. When deciding between two options, try each one on. Like you’d try on clothes in a fitting room, put on each decision (energetically) ... Feel and imagine what making each decision would be like. This information may cast light on an otherwise murky choice. Without judgment, imagine yourself having made one decision or another. What is it like? Which feels more resonant? Wear each decision lightly until you’ve had the chance to make sure it fits. You’re not always going to get it right. ​No matter what, you will make mistakes. That’s part of being human. There’s a myth about intuition that it’s either right all the time or that it’s entirely BS.  Grant yourself (and your intuitive decision-making) the permission to screw up from time to time. Perfectionism will stand in the way of intuition, if you let it. The need to be right isn’t serving you, and will actually keep you playing small in order to avoid risk. Sometimes, you need to take a chance, even if it doesn’t work out. You can’t demand right-ness from your intuition all the time. You can only offer it trust. Not every decision needs to be an agonizing one. As I mention above, you won’t always get it right. In certain moments, you just need to make a decision (any decision will do!) so that you can move on. ... Not every move need a pro/con list or a spreadsheet. Offer yourself the mercy of simply moving forward, regardless of whether you’ve analyzed the idea to pieces. Some decisions take more juice than others. Don’t sweat the ones that don’t need sweating, so that you have more energy and space for the ones that do. It can be simpler and easier than you think. You don’t always need to pick the hard way. You can choose the path of least resistance sometimes. There are moments when the choice is crystal clear and you don’t need to bog yourself down with more information. You can choose to let it be easy. You can choose to let it be simple. Simple and easy are not always born from apathy or resignation. At times, they are a gift to ourselves: for life to be uncomplicated and liberated. (x)

[maddieinwonder]

Bait & Switch

Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, super fluffy 

Word Count: 3.5k words 

Plot: Reader reveals that they’re going to buy a Nintendo Switch so Spencer invites them to go together with him. In the process, some feelings reveal themselves.  

Author’s Note: My first time writing about Spencer, and actually, my first time writing a fic in a long time haha. Just imagine that this takes place in 2017, although you don’t have to know anything about the Switch in order to read this.

Masterlist

-------------- 

"What's got you in such a good mood, baby?" Derek asked, leaning over his chair. Even without looking up, you could feel the smirk that decorated his face. After almost a month at the BAU, you didn’t need to be a profiler to expect this much from Derek. "Got a date this weekend?"

You tried to focus on your paperwork before relenting, rolling your eyes. Still, you couldn't hide the smile in your voice when you shot back a reply. "With this job? You wish, Morgan."

"Give yourself some credit, beautiful. With your looks I'm sure you could score a good looking fellow for a night you won't forget."

"I'm sure you would know all about that," you replied, this time grinning from ear to ear.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your seat has always been across Derek Morgan. The guy was a terrible flirt but also one of the most trustworthy people you knew, so you couldn't keep up a sarcastic mood for long.

"Actually," you replied genuinely, "I'll be lining up this weekend to buy a Nintendo Switch." Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense Spencer stiffen in his chair next to you.

"A what switch?" Derek asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

But before you could begin to reply him, Spencer rolled his chair over and opened his mouth. The both of you knew what was coming.

"The Nintendo Switch. A video game console developed by Japanese company Nintendo that's completely one-of-its-kind, on account of its console functioning like a tablet that can either be docked on a home console and linked to a TV, or used as a portable device with two wireless controllers so you can..."

Not being able to help yourself, you giggled at his info dump. You've always admired how much knowledge he could store in his big brain. But more importantly, you thought he was kind of cute like this. A fire would light in his eyes and it seemed like the world around him ceased to exist.

You only realised you were staring at Spencer when the last bits of his question registered in your mind. "...you going to?"

Blinking your eyes, you snapped to attention. Derek seemed to notice, because you felt his signature smirk return to his face.

"Which store are you going to?" Spencer repeated the question. Anybody else might be annoyed, but he only seemed mildly restless. A rare look for the unathletic genius.

"I'm going to the one three blocks down from here," you replied.

"So am I!" Spencer sat upright in his chair, beaming. You think that this is the most excitement he's expressed to you since you joined the BAU.

Then his confidence seemed to waver. He began tugging at the edge of his sleeve, eyes glancing to the side at nothing in particular when he asked, "W-would you like t-to go together?"

A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it. "Sure! Sounds like fun."

Spencer grinned back, and there was a moment of silence before Derek interrupted the conversation that he began. "Well, I'll leave you and lover boy to plan your date. I'm going to spend my Friday night at the bar."

Your heart thumped involuntarily at the word "date", while Derek turned to Emily. "Hey Prentiss, you want to grab a few drinks and dinner? I'm sure I can get the others to leave work for one night."

"Anything's better than this," Emily shrugged, lifting her mug of already-cold coffee.

Standing up to retrieve her bag, she smirked at you and Spencer, having heard more of the conversation than she let on. "Have a great weekend, you lovebirds. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

She and Derek shared a laugh as they moved towards the Batcave to retrieve Garcia next.

As you watched them go, you feel Spencer's eyes on you and a flush warming your cheeks. You knew they were just teasing you with the word "date", but the truth is you've liked the genius almost as soon as you met him.

You may not have an eidetic memory, but you could still remember the flutter of butterflies that exploded in your chest when you first laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid.

He had waved from a comfortable distance, the other hand tucked in the pocket of his dark slacks. He towered over you easily with curly locks that barely touched his sweater vest, and you swore you've never seen anybody more attractive in your life. His intelligence only added to your attraction. 

"Shall I pick you up at 7am tomorrow?"

You turned back to Spencer, who seemed even more nervous now that everybody in the bullpen had left. Yet what he was proposing was rather bold compared to his usual behaviour.

“Pick me up?” You repeated.

“It’ll be easier to find a parking spot that way, and the weather report predicts that tomorrow will be a sunny day, so I know you’d rather not walk three blocks to the store.” He rambled nervously.

“You know me well, Spencer.” A cheeky smile snuck onto your face, and in a moment of false bravado, you said what was on your mind. “7am. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s face turned beet red.

You didn’t wait to dwell on his reaction, dumping the last of your paperwork into a pile and picking up your bag. But as you walked to the elevator, you couldn’t help yourself from grinning ear to ear. It was a date. Kind of.

-------------- 

You couldn’t sleep. You had gotten home earlier than usual, but the extra time to plan for your “date” tomorrow proved to be a bad idea.

What would you wear? What would you talk about? Should you extend it to a meal, or dessert, or maybe coffee?

Although you were confident in the moment, you were beginning to regret teasing Spencer before you left. You’d known him long enough to know how he reacted to embarrassment, and there’s a good chance he might back away because of your forwardness. 

You groaned, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. The reality of the "date" was sinking in now. This would be the first time that you and Spencer would be alone in a non-work setting. To say that you were nervous was a gross understatement. 

But there was something worse than showing up nervous, which was showing up nervous and sleep-deprived, so you turned off your bedside lamp and tried to will yourself to sleep. That's when your phone began to buzz.

You were so on edge that the sound almost made you fall off your bed. Turning over your phone, your heart leapt to your throat.

Spencer, 2:03am: Sorry to disturb you when it's so late, but I realised I don’t have your address. Could you send it to me when you're awake?

You gulped. Just relax, just relax, you repeated in your head.

Me, 2:05am: It’s alright, you didn’t wake me up. I’ll attach my address below.

Spencer, 2:06am: Thanks. Having trouble sleeping?

Me, 2:07am: A little

Spencer, 2:08am: Me too.

What was I supposed to reply to that? You silently screamed. But it turned out you didn't have to figure it out.

Spencer, 2:11am: To be honest, I'm a little nervous about tomorrow.

Me, 2:13am: Why?

Spencer, 2:15am: I suppose it’s because we've never spent any time alone before.

Hearing the genius act so shy made you feel a little more brave.

Me, 2:16am: Well, I'm looking forward to the chance

Spencer, 2:17am: I am too.

Despite your nerves, you smiled at his small confession.

Spencer, 2:19am: We should get some sleep.

Me, 2:19am: I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Spence

Spencer, 2:20am: Sweet dreams.

Your anxieties were washed away and replaced with the biggest smile on your face. Without knowing it, Spencer’s words rippled a sense of calm over you, and you fell asleep shortly after. 

The next morning, you woke up with a newfound clarity. You knew what you were going to wear. 

-------------- 

Spencer couldn't stop tapping the edge of his steering wheel. He knew he was nervous, and admitting it to you last night didn't do much to stop that fact from eating away at him.

He texted you 3 minutes ago that he was waiting outside your apartment, but you hadn't replied. Although he knew that there were plenty of logical reasons why you might have missed his text, his hands didn't stop itching to call you and see if you were alright.

Then out of the corner of his eye, you emerged from the corridor and he felt his heart speed up.

You were wearing a blue flannel that he'd never seen you in before with a pair of dark jeans. Your hair, which you usually kept in a up-do at work, was let down in waves, touching your shoulders. And then there was the pièce de résistance, you were wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt with the TARDIS on it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He didn't break his gaze on you the entire time you got into his car. Even when you beamed at him and wished him a good morning, a small yawn escaping your perfect lips, he was completely tongue-tied.

"Earth to Spencer," you called out, looking up at him curiously. "You there?"

Spencer shook his head suddenly, cursing himself internally for being such a doofus. "Sorry, uh, I was distracted. Good morning." He smiled sheepishly, tucking a stray hair strand behind his ear.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee before we headed to the store? We can make it quick. I know there'll be some people already lining up."

He peeked at you rubbing your eyes and thought it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. “Looks like you might need it," he said without realising he'd just flirted with you.

You giggled, lowering your hands from your face. "Sounds great." 

-------------- 

Spencer wasn't lying when he said it'd be quick, although in truth you could have taken all the time in the world and you would still be happy. The initial awkwardness between you washed away almost immediately as you fell into a quiet conversation about your favourite Doctor Who episodes. 

You wanted to commit the sight of him driving in the morning to memory. The sun had just rose, lighting a gentle halo around Spencer’s messy hair and sculptured face. He was wearing a bigger sweater than usual, the sleeves hanging around his wrists loosely. While his eyes were focused on the road, his lips parted slightly as he softly bantered with you about David Tennant. 

You felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and kiss him despite the driving hazard. And despite the fact that you’ve never kissed him, of course. But you could hope. And hope you did. 

Your hope had grown when he parked in front of the coffee house you’d once mentioned was your favourite. Spencer made your coffee order perfectly and you had found yourself hoping that it was because he’d paid extra attention to you, and not because of his brilliant memory. 

And when you reached the video game store and he opened the door for you, you hoped it was because he wanted to make a good impression, not only because he was a gentleman. 

And when he stood between you and a video game rack in line, you hoped that he was trying to shield you from the other people in the store, and you hoped that he was thinking of pressing you against the rack and kissing the daylights out of you. 

You needed to get a hold of yourself. 

The conversation had swapped to the reason why you two were here in the first place, and you found yourself talking to Spencer about Breath of the Wild, a game that brought you back to fond memories of your childhood. 

“The Legend of Zelda was the first video game I ever played, on the first console I ever owned.” You shared, smiling fondly. “It was the video game that my brother and I bonded over, and we bought every game together since.”

Spencer nodded in rapt. You felt him leaning closer to you, although it may have been your imagination. 

“This is actually the first time I haven’t been with him for a new game,” you realised. “Due to our jobs, we haven’t seen each other in awhile, but we still text each other!” You tried to end on a lighter note, not wanting to bring the mood down on this “date”.

Spencer looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but he kept his lips shut. 

“What about you? What was your first video game?” You threw the question to him, trying to divert attention away from your sad-enough story. 

He blushed in response to your question and looked down at his black converse. You noticed he began touching his sleeve in a familiar motion and you looked at him suspiciously. “Spencer?”

“W-well, the t-truth is, I didn’t actually c-come here to buy a Switch, and I don’t play video games at all.“ The last part of his sentence came out rapidly. You might have missed it, if you weren’t already used to the tongue twisters he spit out on a daily basis.

“What?” You exclaimed a little too loudly, causing the other shoppers in line to glance at you weirdly. “Then... Then what are you doing here?” You said quieter this time. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind scanned the possibilities. 

“W-well, I, uh, wanted to spend time with you,” he blurted out. He raised his eyes to meet yours, his face completely red.

It was your turn to be flustered now. Your voice was quiet and you could feel your hands shaking. “Is this a date, Spencer?” 

“Only if you want it to be, I mean, I want it to be but your opinion matters to me, and I wouldn’t want to bring you on a date if you didn’t want to. We can just hang out like friends if that’s more comfortable--” 

You grabbed his free hand, gently lowering it from where it was moving as he rambled, until your fingers were intertwined. 

“I would like it to be,” a large smile took over your face. You were a little teary despite how weird it was to confess your feelings for him in a video game store of all places. 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, squeezing your hand in return. “Would you like to go for lunch after this? As a date,” he clarified this time. 

"I would love that,” you beamed at him, “as a date.” 

-------------- 

Spencer had always imagined the kind of girl he would fall in love with. Caring, intelligent, had an appreciation for classic literature, maybe. But when he saw you for the first time, every expectation he held flew out of the window.  

You were beautiful. Wavy dark hair tied into a high ponytail, wearing a navy shirt, and funnily enough, a beige cardigan and black converse. Morgan joked that it was like meeting Spencer 2.0, but he disagreed: the two of you were worlds apart. 

You were incredibly tech savvy, although not as much as Garcia, but certainly more than the rest. You loved the smell and taste of coffee without sugar. You were happy to hug everybody you met, from colleagues to victims. You didn’t like paperback so you read everything on a Kindle. 

But the biggest difference between the two of you, was that you were emotionally intelligent. 

All of your brilliance, combined with your PhD in psychology - having worked as a psychiatrist affiliated with Sex Crimes before joining the BAU - you were able to pick out the team’s moods from a single glance. It’s what endeared everyone to you immediately, and what made you such a great profiler.   

But the way you treated him was different. You just, listened to him. While everyone else had gotten into the habit of cutting him off or simply ignoring him when he opened his mouth, your eyes would light up instead. 

He could always tell you were listening because you would look into his eyes when he spoke, and you would ask him questions after he was done. 

It made him feel like the world around him ceased to exist, except for you. 

So he started studying your interests to grab your attention, trying to throw in a few jokes hoping to see you smile. It only took one month for him to seize his chance. Still, never in his calculations did he think you would say yes. 

He smiled at the thought, stroking your hair gently as you cuddled on the couch together, watching you play Breath of the Wild. 

After a more than successful first date, you had asked him to come over the next day to spend more time together. A month ago, he would have politely declined with an excuse like needing to read a new academic journal, but when he arrived at your doorstep he allowed himself to be drawn into your arms, relishing the giggle he earned as a reward for being hugged. 

“Damn it,” you grumbled quietly as you ran out of stamina scaling a cliffside for the fifth time.

Spencer laughed. Without a second thought, he pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. 

In the background Link fell off the cliff once again, the game playing a sound that he came to recognise as Link dying. But there were no curses this time, as you had turned to look at Spencer, nothing but adoration in your eyes. 

“That was our first kiss,” you said so quietly and sweetly that Spencer’s heart melted at the sound of it. 

“First?” He took his chance, leaning closer. “You know, the usage of the word ‘first’ almost always implies that there will be a ‘second’ and a ‘third’ and a...” 

His voice trailed off as your fingers left the controller to touch his lips. Your touch was intoxicating and he wanted more. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Spence,” you started, lifting your finger from his lips. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he managed to get out in a hurry before capturing your lips in his. He felt your astonishment at first, but you quickly lost yourself in the kiss as he brought his hands up to cup the sides of your face, deepening the kiss further. 

You finally broke apart after awhile, both panting for air and smiling widely. Spencer never thought he could be so lucky. “That’s the second one,” he said quietly, bringing up two fingers to indicate the number. 

You looked at him with love in your eyes and abandoned your controller on the table before throwing yourself at him, flattening the two of you against your couch. 

“Ready for the third?”

-------------- 

Derek Morgan wasn’t an idiot. That’s why he could tell that something had changed over the weekend between his desk mate and boy genius. 

The two came into work together on Monday morning, which was weird in itself, but they also took every opportunity to stick to each other, from coffee breaks to disappearing for lunch and “asking” about paperwork. 

When they vanished for the umpteenth time that day for coffee, Derek leaned over Emily’s desk to confirm his theory. 

“It’s not just me. Pretty boy finally made a move, didn’t he?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Definitely. Those two are so obvious that even Hotch has picked up on it. From his office.” She quipped, grinning as her eyes moved to the scene behind Derek. “Speak of the devil.” 

Entering the conversation, Spencer did what he did best. “Did you know that ‘speak of the devil’ is the short form of the idiom ‘speak of the devil and he doth appear’? The phrase can be traced back to the 16th century when mentioning the devil was considered prohibited. In fact, when people were caught saying the phrase--” 

Derek caught your eyes drifting to look adoringly at Spencer. He couldn’t take this anymore. “So what happened between you two last weekend, huh?” he interrupted, smirking. 

Your reaction was better than he gambled. You turned a bright red and your eyes darted between Spencer and Derek in panic, truly flustered for the first time since he’s met you. But Spencer was strangely calm, his eyes travelling from his best friend to Emily in the background trying to stifle her laughter, while a small smile tugged at his lips. 

“We’re dating now,” he announced to the two a little triumphantly, while rubbing your shoulder as a peaceful gesture. 

Derek and Emily were stunned by their friend’s directness, only to be shocked out of it as Hotch walked by. “Finally,” he muttered, loud enough for them all to hear. 

You were the first to crack a smile, then the rest followed suit with laughs and congratulations. Hearing the uproar, Garcia and JJ peeked out of their rooms, joining in and demanding more details about this new but not entirely unexpected development. 

Amidst the chaos, Spencer laces his hands in yours and gives it a squeeze. For the first time in a long time, you feel unequivocally, unmistakably happy. 

[fictionalrambles]

Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Fifteen

Submitted by jwrites_

Five Favourite Fics:

1. What's It Gonna Be by @lemonoclefox

Why I love this fic: I'm a sucker for Pride & Prejudice. San was able to take that dynamic and put it all in a modern day telling of it. I can't count how many times I've read this. Sometimes I read it all the way through, other times I go and find my favorite parts just to get that rush of emotions it never fails to give. The enemies to lovers is done perfectly, the dialogue is great and flows seamlessly, the way she tied in the storyline between Simon, Isabelle, Valentine, and Alec together was genius. I truly love every word of this story.

Favorite scene: Awkward - love - confession - in -  the -  rain

Favorite quote(s):

(Yes. Love confessions are great but have you ever overheard someone say something rude about you and then have the opportunity later that same night to be able to casually call that person out for their comment?)

"Her friend is..." He trails off, as though searching for the word, and Magnus can imagine him gesturing in the meantime. "Interesting," Jace eventually settles on, pointedly.

"Who, that Bane guy?" Alec says, and as he does, Magnus is hit with a wave of intrigued surprise. Does Alec like men? Interesting. The assumption could be wrong, of course, but Jace's tone implies that that's why he's mentioning it. "He's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

He sounds almost disdainful as he says it, as though Jace's mere suggestion is laughable, and Magnus's intrigue immediately shifts to offended annoyance. He straightens a little where he stands, reluctantly affected by it.

--

"I mean, love songs are great," Magnus admits lightly. "But stringing a few pretty words together does seem a bit unoriginal when everyone does it."

Simon shoves him lightly in offense, and Magnus can't help but laugh.

"Then what do you suggest?" Magnus is taken completely by surprise when he realizes that it's Alec who's speaking, and he turns to him. The guy's expression is neutral, but seems genuinely curious.

"Oh, I don't know," Magnus says, swirling his drink around in his glass. He shrugs. "I suppose I'm more a fan of showing and not telling. I'd much prefer someone showing interest in what I like and who I am, than comparing my eyes to the night sky, and whatnot." He gestures airily, then hesitates. He suddenly can't seem to stop himself, the memory of the Lightwoods' overheard conversation bubbling to the surface. "I think most people can appreciate that. Even if some of us are a bit over the top."

--Okay...I'm gonna go ahead and throw in a love confession~

"Look, I don't expect anything from you," he says, as though the words are hard to say. "You've made your feelings pretty clear, and I respect that. But I heard you talked to my mom, and with the stuff you said to her... I guess it just kind of made me a bit hopeful, or something. A bit." He clears his throat, while Magnus just listens. He turns to watch Alec's profile as the young man struggles to find the words, eyes on the view in front of him. "Either way, I'll admit that how I feel hasn't really changed. Maybe it should have, but..."

Alec shakes his head, and Magnus feels his throat go dry. He wants to interrupt Alec, wants to say and show everything that's bursting out of his chest, but he waits. Alec takes a deep breath then, turns to him. He looks determined.

"If you want me to," he says steadily, "I'll go. I'll leave you alone, I promise. You won't hear from me again." He pauses, licks his lips. "But if you don't want me to, if something has changed since last time, somehow... I'd really like to know. Because that would be pretty great."

2. 42 North 71 West by @lecrit​

Why I love this fic: I was blessed with the opportunity to witness Lu working on this fic from its conception to its end. I was there and still I am blown away at the way she was able to work the time jumps. I remember thinking with every chapter I read, 'Wow. The way she is telling this story is amazing. She is amazing.' Lu has a way of presenting so much honesty in her characters. She writes them in a way that feels so real, that you can't help but understand their fears and hesitations even though it hurts. The story is a back and forth told through scenes set in the past and present. You get to see what they were and where they are. The story is beautifully heartbreaking. And she was able to make me enjoy a story that dealt with politics? What? Sorcery, I tell you. -- also, the bench.

Favorite scene: This was almost impossible to choose and I took way too long trying to pinpoint just one. But I'm going to go with one that I hold very dear. When Magnus goes to visit Alec on his birthday and he finds Alec playing the song he only plays when he's sad. That's all I'm going to say because I don't want to spoil~

Favorite quote(s):

“Magnus,” Alec breathes out.

The name feels almost foreign, as if he hadn’t uttered it in too long and now his mind is troubling to catch up with his mouth. Still, it manages to make Alec’s heart stutter.

--

“We should’ve stayed on that bench in Boston,” he murmurs.

--

The good thing is, he knows where to go to find his way back. It is inked on his body, engraved into his soul, sealed into his heart.

3. Lead The Way by Clockworkswan

Why I love this fic: Because it takes the wonderful adventure of Doctor Who and packs it in with Malec. This is the ultimate fun and feel good but you will also cry at one point fic. I always go back to it if I want a wonderfully written Doctor Magnus and his adorable companion Alec. Seriously, even if you're not into Doctor Who, give this fic a shot. It's written in a way that you will get so caught up in the adventure that you won't even realize it's based on something else. And if you're a Doctor Who fan, you're in luck with all the little Easter Eggs Heather left throughout.

Favorite scene: I really don't want to spoil anything. The planet of Ablorix. This will mean nothing if you don't read the fic (so you should ;])

Favorite quote(s):

Magnus extends a hand. It’s just like before, when they were in the hallway a couple of weeks ago. It’s just as inviting as it was the first time.

“How about it, pretty boy? Name a star. Any one will do. Or a date,” Magnus says. The double meaning is evident when he winks. He pauses then, and his expression shifts, growing solemn.

A clear shift in his demeanour happens. Magnus turns from playful to sincere in the blink of an eye. Although, there was also a serious tone to it. Magnus looks at him, and understanding eyes meet Alec’s hesitant ones. “Alexander, you seem like a man in need of a break, and I am very much a man in need of a friend. Adventures are always a quick way in figuring out what you want. What do you say?”

What does he say?

He says yes.

Of course Alec does.

--

Before Magnus can think of a good retort, he tries to ignore the clenching ache his stomach gives at the sight of a confident, smirking Alec Lightwood watching him so openly. He settles for pointing in a random direction. “I have to go and see a dog about a man. Meet back here in five?”

“Uh, isn’t the expression, ‘see a man about a dog’?”

“Not when the dog ran off with the man’s wife. A rather big scandal, it seems. The president wants me to try and step in. Smooth things over, so to speak.”

At that, Alec just stares blankly.

Magnus holds up a finger. “Yes, this is normal for me. No, you may not come along. Go.”

4. Love & Other Drugs prequel of Our Love Is A Harsh Chord in the Semi-charmed Kind Life series by @la-muerta​

Why I love this fic: I'm kind of cheating here by listing two fics but they're a package deal. Love & Other Drugs was a smutty one-shot that left me wanting

more...

backstory. Let me tell you the pining and 'unrequited' love between those two demanded a story to be written. Which is why when la_muerta ran a poll on whether or not she should start it or another series first, I campaigned for this one like it was my job (I lost but I still got the series eventually so did I really lose?) The writing in this and with all of la_muerta's fics will hook you. The sadness over the back and forth between them is done so well. It's angst that will grip you and hold onto you until you eventually finish. Just go on the twitter hashtag of #OLIAHCfic and see my screaming.

Favorite scene: Probably the LSD scene.

Favorite quote(s):

Alec was still here, in bed with him.

How many times had Magnus wished that he could wake up with Alec in his arms? He didn't dare to move, wanting the dream to last a little longer, but Alec was already stirring.

--

he'll wonder if life would be a little easier if he wasn't hopelessly in love with Magnus, but it is a fact of who he is now: Alec Lightwood is 6'3, has dark hair, is gay, and is in love with Magnus Bane.

--

They are lying next to each other now, turned on their sides and face to face. The world is no longer warped and weird, but glowing and perfect. Magnus is tracing a path of lightning down Alec's body with his fingertips, and in a moment of clarity Alec understands that in Magnus' eyes he is as beautiful as he thinks Magnus is (it is the first thing Alec forgets when he wakes up sober later).

--

Words aren't enough to express how he feels, but they've always understood each other better when clumsy words don't get in the way.

5. The Lonely Hearts Hotline by @unrestrainedlyexcessive​

Why I love this fic: It's funny, it's endearing, it's heart wrenching, it's sexy, etc. The way Alec is written in this fic is one of my favorite characterizations. The way his situation can resonate with so many young adults today. That feeling when you're an adult and you feel like you should know what to do with your life and who you should be but the truth is, you're still just as lost as always. Being an adult sucks tbh and even when you're an adult, sometimes life doesn't quite feel like it. Alec's character and growth in this fic is beautiful. (I also really loved Jace in this fic)

Favorite scene: A tough choice. Probably the office party and follow up scene in Magnus' office.

Favorite quote(s):

The problem with being a new grad, in general, is that the world and job force demands you have experience, but you have to live a certain number of productive years on the planet to gain that experience.

Early adulthood is no man's land. You don’t have the experience to matter and no one wants to pay you to gain it, hence how he ended up in the precarious situation he’s in: dodgy sex work by night, an even dodgier roommate, and desperately hoping an internship eventually turns into an actual paying job.

--

Magnus runs his tongue down the knobs of Alec's spine. "You're so beautiful," he says, pausing.

"I'm really not," Alec insists, eyes fluttering closed.

"Why are you so kind to everyone except yourself?"

"I'm a work in progress."

"Aren't we all?"

[crqstalite]

For your fanfic writer Friday: What's your favorite part in the process of writing: planning, writing, editing? What do you hope readers take away from your stories? What's your favorite story you've written?

is day dreaming a sufficient answer?

in all seriousness, i think i love to just write. i rarely go into a work knowing exactly what’s in between my beginning and my end, but i know what i want to do. there’s just not always a clear way of getting there, and letting myself go and just let words flow is probably my saving grace. planning is hard because inevitably, i will drift. the story will probably change beyond recognition and all that planning was for nothing. i despise editing because, again, inevitably i will end up changing a lot. very frustrating, easier to just write what i like and move on.

i really hope people take away that my heroes are still heroes, even though they’re decidedly not at all neurotypical. like that a majority of my ocs have adhd, and a larger majority have anxiety (like me). yes, it will hinder them in some areas, yet they’ll excel in others. annika struggles with planning beforehand and social situations, but she’s a whiz with weapons and armor, and is still a great friend to the crew and platonic partner to tali. but they’re still capable -- if not more capable -- just like the people around them. it’s not a flaw, it’s a feature.

my favorite story to write was shadow of the sith. i hyperfixated bad on swtor in late 2019 and spent that entire period just writing about my characters. i enjoyed it, i loved writing it. unfortunately i ended up getting sucked into mass effect around april earlier this year and just lost touch with the game. and yet? it’s still my prized possession -- it wasn’t even halfway done and i’d managed to write just over 100k words for it. i also loved exploring what the game wouldn’t give me, relationships that developed behind the scenes and characters that changed ever so slightly when you weren’t watching.

(almost like i intend to do with ‘on burning wings’ and ‘i have questions’. how funny lol)

snatched a snippet from chapter 13, but thank you for the ask!

"Khaak...please. There are things I simply can not do for you right now, there are things beyond your understanding I can't even decipher myself." Lana pauses, leaning against her back for support, "I know I've been gone for a long time, and I apologize for that."

"Do you?" It comes out as a rough whisper, Khaak turns her head over her shoulder, still careful enough that she doesn't accidentally hit her with her lekku, "Are you really sorry, Lana? For putting me through all of that?"

"I-" She starts, but Khaak doesn't let her finish. Won't let her finish. Can't let her finish. If she just bows down and rolls over again, this conversation will be closed off again. And if it's closed off, she can forget about ever getting her wife back.

"Lana I waited for two years for even a word from you. I trusted your life in the hands of a man from the opposite faction, trusted that you'd come back to me whole, and you brushed me off as soon as I wanted to come down and help you! Those two years were a living hell for me, it was like being all alone on the Clarity again, but instead all I had were memories of you. All I had were old holos, your clothes, everywhere you used to be! All in favor of what, some stupid fucking SIS agent?!" Khaak whips around fast, a grimace on her lips as her lekku smack the blast door anyways. If she did have hair, she would've been yanking on it by now, "Now you're back and trying to act like nothing has changed, but you were the one who changed!"

"You don't need to yell, Khaak." Lana answers, her gaze darkening as her tone hardens. She's still terribly intimidating in her dark colored sleep clothing, and her hair mussed. But for now Khaak doesn't have a reign on her emotions, she couldn't care less if she was magically the damned Emperor staring her down with lightning at her fingertips, she would not be quieted again. It's all tumbling out, and screw if Lana wanted to hear it or not, "If you had an issue-"

"'I should've just told you'. Do you know just how well that worked out on this front, Lana? Do you know how many times you told me to go home and wait? How many times I did? How many times I had to chase away people who wanted to take me away because I was an alien in one of the most expensive apartments in Kaas City?" She balls a fist, not entirely sure she even wants to hear the rest of Lana's argument. Khaak doesn't want to hurt Lana, and she's not going to, but it would be a firm lie if she said she wasn't going to punch something once she got out of here. She's already heard most of it time and time again, and she isn't going to be shut down again, no matter how childish she seems, "How many times I was terrified you were dead, or worse?!"

"Don't throw yourself into a tantrum, Khaak. I had a mission to complete, and at the risk of seeming apathetic, you had my approval to stay here through my absence. Whatever they did was illegal." She answers, raising her voice to meet Khaak's tone. It wasn't unusual, but she flinches at the change in volume anyways, possibly instinctively, "The Empire was under attack, and I was going to fight for it. I had access to Arkous' files long before they did, I had to fight Revan before he killed us all."

"What about us!? Were you going to fight for us too? Or was this mission and your damned faction more important than what we have?!" She barked. Khaak wasn't stupid, she knew the Empire always came first because Lana was Sith first and foremost. She had grown up a drifter, never tied to one faction or the other. She traded with the highest bidder, not the most morally close to her own actions. She always tried her best to understand the nationalism that most on Dromound Kaas and Lana felt. But she can't help feeling hurt because of it, fuck her original faction and what they asked of her. She couldn't just dedicate her life to her and then turn away as soon as a mission got tough, "Your damned Empire was worth keeping me away from you when you knew I needed you?"

"I wasn't going to let you run out there and risk your life like you always do! That's what I was aiming to do before you tried to shove yourself into a literal conspiracy!" Lana contended back, "This wasn't your war to fight, it was mine!"

[everwitch-magiks]

somebody save your soul 'cause you've been sinning in this city

Slowly, Will walked up the steps to his apartment complex. He was feeling a bit tired, maybe a little hungry, but mostly he was happy to be home. More importantly, though, Will wasn’t feeling completely exhausted, drained of all emotions with his mind wiped blank.

And that was new.

Before, whenever Will came back from a visit to his folks, he used to feel a sort of aching emptiness, as though everything he knew himself to be was suddenly gone from within him, his sense of self broken into fragments that he couldn’t seem to piece back into a whole. It would always take him days, sometimes even weeks, before he felt like he’d regained some semblance of clarity. It had gotten to the point where he’d found himself coming up with weaker and weaker excuses in order to avoid, or at the very least put off, his next trip home.

But that was before he’d told them.

Because he had told them, finally. Nearing a breaking point, Will had decided that their disapproval couldn’t actually be much worse than the constant feeling of living a double life. And so he had stopped. He had stopped carefully omitting anything that could give too much away about his life in the city. He had stopped the white lies, dropped all pretences and faced their shock and disgust with his head held high. He had told them, his voice trembling with a conflicting mixture of anger and fear, that if they had any problem with his choice of partners, that was on them. And he wasn’t going to deal with it for them.

It hadn’t been their most joyous Thanksgiving dinner.

Will’s uncle had been the first to come around. Jeremy Pointdexter was as traditional as they came, but he did have a big heart, not to mention a great fondness for his youngest nephew. That Christmas, Jeremy had made the trip to New York, demanding that Will show him all the sights and ignoring every call from their outraged relatives.

Will had never been so grateful for anything in his life. (And he didn’t even like sightseeing.) He had been struggling to come to terms with the fact that he was going to spend his first Christmas by himself – the first of many, if the whole situation didn’t improve – and finding himself in the company of his favourite uncle, instead, was in no way an unpleasant surprise.

His mother had held out until Easter, before she’d finally called.

Little by little, things had gotten better. It had been a lot of work, with many difficult conversations and near-arguments, and Will often had to remind himself that at least his parents were trying – for so many, that alone would’ve been a blessing. Slowly, things became a bit easier – not perfect, but so much less awful. Good enough, maybe.

Which was why, when Will walked into his tiny apartment in Morningside Heights, letting go of his duffel bag and closing the door behind him, all he felt was a distinct absence of emptiness.

Before, Will would have been out the door within minutes. He’d have taken the subway all the way down to 18th street, walking into one of his old haunts and quickly finding an appropriate distraction, someone with eyes to get lost in and touches that would render him blissfully incoherent. Someone who could make him feel less shameful, and dirty, and disposable. Someone to make him feel like he belonged, if only for the night.

Now, it was almost two hours before he got on the train.

Stepping into his favourite bar, he found himself looking around for familiar faces. Out on the dance floor, there was a tall brunette with a great ass who definitely rang a bell, and it was possible that he’d at least had a chat with the cute blonde next to him. But the one who made him grin widely was the all too familiar lady who was perched up on a stool by the bar.

“Dexy, my man,” she greeted him when he’d made his way over to her, already sliding a shot in his direction. “You’re later than usual.”

Will shrugged, then downed the shot.

“I had things to unpack.”

“Emotional baggage?” she teased, yet there was a hint of concern in her voice. “More shots?”

“No more shots,” Will decided. “And no, Lards, I’m fine. It wasn’t even bad, this time.”

Will had met Lardo shortly after he’d moved to the city. A coworker had introduced them, and it was only after he had not-so-subtly disappeared, leaving the two of them alone, that Will had recognised the situation for what it was. He’d panicked for a moment, unsure of what to say to her – he wasn’t anywhere near ready to come out to anybody, and definitely not to somebody he’d only just met – but to his relief, Larissa had beaten him to it.

“Wow, this is awkward. See, I’m pretty exclusively into women. No offence.”

“None taken,” Dex had breathed out, beyond relieved. “Actually, I’m not really looking to date anyone right now, so. It’s all good.”

That had made Larissa raise both of her eyebrows.

“Not looking to date, huh. You do realize I know what that’s code for?”

Will had frozen, his expression probably betraying far more than he was prepared to reveal. Larissa’s smile had softened immediately.

“It’s all right, Pointdexter. Let me buy you a drink, okay?”

That night, when Larissa (“call me Lardo, only my mother calls me Larissa”) had slipped him her number, Will had no idea that over the course of the next four years, she was going to become someone incredibly important in his life. His best friend, maybe.

“It’s good seeing you again. I’ve been so bored without you.”

“Yes, these two days have sure felt like a lifetime,” Will told her, rolling his eyes. “Going soft on me, Lards?”

“Quite the opposite.” Lardo grinned. “From now on you’re never allowed to leave New York, ever again. I need my daily dose of Dexness.”

“That still isn’t an actual word.”

“It can’t not be a word – I just said it.” For some reason, Lardo sat up a little straighter, her eyes suddenly focused on something behind Will. “And more importantly, it looks like I’m not the only one craving it.”

“Huh?”

“I spy tall, dark and handsome looking your way.”

“Really?” Dex asked, barely resisting the urge to turn around. “How handsome?”

“Handsome enough. Trust me.” For some reason, Lardo smiled sweetly, then made a vaguely beckoning hand gesture. “Awesome, he’s coming over.”

“What?” Will exclaimed, unsettled. “Wait, stop. How do I look?”

“Decent enough.” Lardo slipped off her stool and picked up her last shot glass, shooting Will a wicked grin. “He’s all yours, darlin’. Now behave yourself.”

“Why do I always let you do this?” Will called after her, but Lardo ignored him completely, quickly disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

Will barely had the time to take a deep breath, before someone spoke up behind him.

“Hey.”

Slowly, Will turned around.

Lardo was right. This guy was more than handsome enough.

There was a playful gleam in his brown eyes that immediately sparked Will’s interest. He was wearing tight jeans and a white crop to that just might be one or two sizes too small – it was absolutely perfect. His black skin contrasted beautifully with the white, almost sheer fabric, leaving Will torn between leaving it on and tearing it off.

By the time Will actually looked back up to meet the stranger’s eyes, he was met with a wide smile, one that quickly blended over into what was probably supposed to be a less ridiculous, more laid-back grin.

Well.

“Hey, yourself.”

“Dance?”

“Okay,” Will agreed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the guy’s rather poor attempt at playing it cool. “Let’s go.”

The stranger‘s grin widened as he took Will by the hand, leading him out into the sea of bodies. It was a little crowded, but not so crowded that the guy had to press himself this close to Will, his hands loosely gripping Will’s hips. Will let him take the lead, at first, following his movements as they swayed to the beat, but after a while he reached up to wrap his arms around the guy’s shoulders as he carefully pressed his lips onto bare skin, dipping out his tongue teasingly. The guy’s breath hitched, and suddenly Will found himself smiling into a quickly deepening kiss, his body hot all over as they both tried to pull the other even closer. The music changed, turning into something more up-tempo, yet neither of them cared as they stayed entangled with each other, each desperate kiss blending over into the next.

After a while, Will broke them apart, taking a small step backwards and trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was incredible.”

Will smiled – the guy looked completely wrecked, his lips swollen red and his breaths coming out in short gasps. Not so cool and indifferent now, huh.

“Please tell me I can take you home,” the guy continued, his tone actually frantic. “I mean, only if you want to – it’s like super chill if you don’t, no worries, it’s cool. You can, like, take time to make up your mind and stuff. Or, we could-”

“If you say like one more time, I’m not fucking you,” Will interrupted him, speaking firmly. “Okay?”

The guy just looked at Will for a moment, his eyes wide. Will frowned.

“Unless you don’t want me to?”

“No, no – I want to.” The guy stepped closer to Will, lowering his voice a little. “It’s just… You would fuck me? As in, top…?”

“I mean, yeah. I want to.” Will tried his best not to feel self-conscious. “Unless you-”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

Will blinked, startled. The guy was smiling again, almost shyly this time, except there was nothing shy about the way he took Will’s hands in his, pulling him back in to lick a slow stripe along Will’s neck, all the way up to his ear.

Ah. Okay, then.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Of course this guy lived in a spacious fucking studio apartment in Chelsea, of fucking course. Will held in several comments about trust funds and income inequality as he was led past the kitchen area and over to a wide alcove, where the bed was. He barely had time to take in the silk sheets and dark red throw pillows – fuck, that was velvet, wasn’t it, what the fuck – before a bottle of lube and several packages of condoms were pressed into his hands.

“They’re different sizes,” the guy said, hurriedly. “You know, in case…”

“Ah,” Will said, taking a look at them. And then, abruptly, he realized. “You do this a lot.”

He regretted the words as soon as he’d spoken. Why did he always do this, why. For once in his life, couldn’t he just think before he opened his goddamn mouth?

To his great relief, the guy merely shrugged, his smile bashful rather than forced. And suddenly, Will realized how much this guy reminded him of himself, from a couple of years ago. From before, when he hadn’t quite settled into himself, back when he’d still been searching for some sort of elusive clarity that he didn’t even know how to properly define.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“So we’re the same age,” Will concluded, tilting his head curiously. “What’s your name?”

“Derek.” For some reason, Derek gave him a strange look, as though the question seemed out of place to him. “Uh. Should we…?”

“Yeah.” Will grinned towards him. “We definitely should.”

When Lardo called him the next day, as per usual, Will would purposefully make his answers short, claiming that it hadn’t even lasted that long so there wasn’t very much to say about it. He didn’t like lying to Lardo – didn’t like lying to anybody, least of all to his friends – but this time, he did, the words just slipping out.

Maybe, Will simply hadn’t been able to find the right words to describe how it’d felt. How Derek had been so eager for it, more so than almost anyone Will had been with before. How they’d moved together easily, so easily, in almost perfect synchronization. Just as if Derek was Will’s lover of many years and this was far from the first time Will had him pressed up against a bedroom wall, fucking him good and fast and going deeper and deeper, his teeth scraping against Derek’s neck as Derek finally came with a low groan, Will following only a moment later.

It took all of Will’s determination to keep them both upright – Derek had gone completely limp in Will’s arms, leaning all his weight on him and breathing deeply. Carefully, Will managed to maneuver them both to the bed, where they collapsed in a graceless pile of entangled limbs and discarded clothes.

Will let himself lie down for only a couple of minutes, before he got up.

Quietly, he made his way over to the side of the room that functioned as the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from a shelf and filled it with water, gulping it down in one go before filling it again. Then he made for the bathroom, finding what looked like a clean towel and pouring some warm water on it, before returning to the bed.

“Hey,” he said gently, setting the glass down on a bookshelf that also seemed to function as something of a bedside table. “How’re you feeling?”

Slowly, Derek’s eyes blinked open.

“You’re still here.”

“Obviously.” Will held out the damp towel towards him. “Here. I got you some water, too.”

Derek took the towel, staring at it for a moment before he looked back up at Will.

“Why are you still here?”

Will paused, taking in Derek’s expression. He could just leave – he would, if Derek asked him to. Yet there was something in the tone of Derek’s voice that made Will feel curious, rather than deterred.

“I’m not in a hurry,” he settled for, after a moment. “And I wanted to make sure you’re good.”

“Huh.” Derek looked back down at the towel in his hands, before wiping himself over a little self-consciously. “Did you… Water?”

Will handed him the glass, and Derek finished it even faster than Will had, before handing it back.

“Thank you.”

“Do your partners not usually stay?”

Derek blinked, looking a little bit surprised. And, Will realized a moment later, a lot hesitant.

“I guess that’s none of my business,” Will added, because really, it wasn’t. “It’s just… If I’d walked out of here, leaving you without as much as a word after I’d gotten what I wanted, I would’ve had very little respect for myself.”

“But you’re not my boyfriend, or anything like that.” Derek was speaking slowly, his expression vaguely confused. “There wasn’t even a date. You clearly don’t have any kind of emotional obligation, here.”

“Emotional what?” Will exclaimed. “Oh, my God. Please tell me that isn’t something you had to hear from someone you slept with.”

“That is definitely none of your business.” Derek didn’t quite meet Will’s eyes as he continued. “And okay, maybe it wasn’t articulated perfectly, but it’s not wrong. If I had a boyfriend, and he  walked out without a word after sex, that would’ve been a serious level of dickheadedness. But when it’s someone I’m just sleeping with, it’s different. You walking out on me would’ve been fine.”

“It would not have been fine.” Will took a deep breath, trying his best to keep his voice calm, but still firm. “Even if you’re only with someone once, it’s not too much to ask that your partner should make you feel cared for, and safe. It’s not. I don’t know who you’ve been fucking, exactly, but please consider fucking someone else. Anyone else, really.”

“And if it’s everyone I’ve been fucking?”

That made Will fall silent. Derek was glaring at him, now, the look in his eyes defiant.

“If you could tell me where to find one of these brilliant guys who’d go the extra mile for someone they might never see again, that’d be great. But until that happens, I’m going to keep fucking whoever I’d like, and you can go fuck right off.”

“You could just fuck me, instead.”

And this time, Will didn’t regret speaking before he had thought things through. Because for once, he didn’t want to take it back.

Derek was staring at him, his expression completely bewildered.

“Did you not get the part where I told you to fuck off?”

Will paused.

“Right. You kind of did, didn’t you?”

“God, why do you have to be such an idiot?” Derek groaned, hiding his face behind the towel. “The sex was great, okay? It’s not that. It’s definitely not that.”

“Okay,” Will said, feeling a little helpless, and a lot awkward. “I guess I’ll, uh. I’ll just see myself out, then.”

“Oh, screw it. No.” Slowly, Derek peeked out from behind the towel. “I mean, I guess you could, like, stick around for a while. Stay the night, if you still want to? As long as you shut the hell up, that’d be somewhat chill.”

“You actually use the word chill unironically.” Will shook his head, but he couldn’t quite keep himself from smiling, just a little bit. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“Yeah?” And suddenly, Derek’s tone was oddly nervous. “You really don’t have to just because you feel sorry for me, or whatever. I can take care of myself.”

“I want to, though.” Will reached out his hand tentatively, holding Derek’s gaze as he gently brushed his fingers across Derek’s cheek. “For completely selfish reasons, actually.”

“Okay.” Derek took a deep, steadying breath. “Okay. Good.”

“So. Big spoon, or…?”

“You really didn’t get the part about shutting up, did you?” Derek sighed. “I’ll spoon you.”

“Right. Okay.” A little awkwardly, Will got into the bed. “I never told you my name.”

“And what a tragedy that is.”

“It’s William,” Will supplied, despite Derek’s apparent disinterest. “Most people call me Will, though.”

“Isn’t that fascinating,” Derek muttered, even as he gently wrapped his arms around Will. “Can I sleep now, William?”

Will smiled.

“Sure. Goodnight.”

Derek made no answer.

Will stayed awake for awhile, quietly enjoying the feeling of strong arms wrapped around him and quiet breaths behind him. He wasn’t sure if Derek was awake, too, or if he’d fallen asleep instantly. Either way, he seemed relaxed, and that was all Will needed to know.

As Will finally drifted away, his thoughts of Derek followed him into his dreams, where he found them both years away in a distant future, in a time and place where Derek didn’t have that vaguely uncertain look in his eyes as though he was silently wondering whether or not he deserved to be comforted, or loved. Whether or not he deserved to feel more than disposable to those around him. Will had adored Derek’s smile that evening, but the smiling Derek in his dreams seemed even more radiant, somehow. Even more beautiful.

The next morning, Will left with the memory of a gentle kiss on his cheek, and a new number among the contacts in his phone.

[calleo-bricriu]

You've been doing a lot of FB verse stuff lately so: Those cards want to gossip about anything or anyone tonight?

It’s early and I’m sober; a better question might be do I want to gossip about anything or anyone this morning.

I don’t, as an aside, but if you’ll scurry away if I do...

Give me a couple of minutes to get rid of the sober part.

Right, well, either the deck’s not in the mood either or it’s just describing me. Can it be gossip if they’re talking to me about me? Wouldn’t that just be me telling you something anyone else would consider mild to moderately embarrassing?

So, it probably is me I’ll be gossiping about tonight and while that ace is one of the few generally positive swords it points itself at things like new careers, new starts, new environments which sounds essentially like I’ll be getting a slightly different job and moving or moving and getting a slightly different job, it isn’t clear which it is and I don’t particularly want to do either. Also as to do with clarity, focus, and a lot of intensity so maybe I’m just moving and keeping the same job in a different place.

Not a fan of all these swords, I have to say.

No, never mind, that sword is okay. Five swords are apparently terrible and bad tempered but six are calm--ugh, travel again--what I'll never fully understand is why this card indicates both calmness and healing as well as the calm before a storm. Those are two distinctly and markedly different types of calm.

It's not very calming at all, nor does it point toward anything approaching stability.

Given the last two--well, hm, the first two equal six, maybe that's what it meant; I, the bad tempered and unpleasant five will be hooking up with an ace in the reasonably near future and that's either going to make things all nice again or make things all temporarily nice again before something qualifying as a storm happens.

Wonderful.

Maybe it'll clarify.

Hm. Well, someone is going to get what they want and since I'm that five, I get to be the one stuck at a crossroads so whoever the lucky future pain in my neck is, they'll be getting what they want with whatever option it is that I choose.

I really hope I don't have to travel for this.

We've gone from repeating swords to repeating pentacles now which is perfectly fine as those tend to not always come off like they're gleefully reporting on upcoming terrible things that will be happening to you.

Anyway, this one--it--apprenticeships, studying, collaboration--first of all, I'm nearly fifty-eight, who in the actual hell would I ever end up apprenticing under and for what?

It must be all those work hard and get on with other people at work and you'll be rewarded and recognised as a dedicated, committed, detailed, successful employee and that had better come along with a pay rise because if they want me to be all of those things and not get paid extra to put on a good show of also being cheerful and well rested, whoever tries to implement that has clearly never met me.

Better not push that pay issue as we're back to swords again.

Oh, no, not quite that, I think it's describing what a garbled mess of a person whoever that new employer is because this one can represent a lot of completely opposite things like fear, anxiety and stress but also rest, relaxation, and peace.

So whoever this is looks to be a little prone to wild and sudden mood swings. I say whoever this is on account of me not being that way so we're not talking directly to me about me anymore, it's shifted its focus to the hot mess this other person is.

This particular queen doesn't sound at all like it's also describing that hot mess of a four there so we appear to now be jumping around again. Whoever this third person is they're witty, intelligent, candid, protective, quirky and a lot repressed.

Sounds like a hot mess queen.

Fair enough, that's what my sword filled five of a self tends to attract anyway.

Moving on again, she looks about as done with this conversation as I've felt since the beginning!  Anyway, more creativity, desirability, turning into a niffler in the face of being offered an opportunity to learn More Things, and unattainability.

Hm, so either I'm unattainable, the first hot mess is unattainable, the second hot mess is unattainable, or all three of us are OR it's an indicator that if I try to attain both neither one will be attainable and just repeat that for the various combinations. Typically, unattainable things are only that way if your expectations are complete nonsense.

...huh, this one is definitely @directoryandle . That can't be good, especially if we're gossiping about me because that's bound to mean I'm going to either do something or someone that's going to make his life or job difficult or at least a little bit annoying.

If I take this one literally, he's going to be getting some solitude that--enough with the swords already!--military and law enforcement look like they're going to tell him to just deal with it as it's not rational for them to deal with something I've done that's made the Director's life mildly irritating.

So, he'll have a decision to make on account of being less than pleased with probably still what I'm allegedly going to start doing this year.

And, we get no more details on that because this one's swung back to me and apparently just wanted to scold me for whatever's going on with me and the two hot messes up there, it's making the Director think that I really will be the cause of his last few dark hairs going silver instead of the fact that he’s almost 140 being the root cause for a minute.

Back to Gossiping About Calleo with your host, Calleo.

On the upside, and possibly to spite Director Yandle somehow, whatever's going on it looks like I click with the hot mess ace/four--which, I've just realised does come out to five swords. Huh, twice now one or more cards have linked back to the five like that--and the hot mess queen.

A lot of clicking via good connections & compatibility.

Good thing these two hot messes are completely different in terms of personality as I can manage both of those personalities at the same time which is why I get to be the five. It's only polite to meet others where they're at in terms of energy.

Good. More swords. Of course. Upheaval, absence, unhappiness, loss, conflict, trauma, severe misunderstandings, division, betrayal--hm.

And I'll be switching jobs--back? Which will leave me as exhausted as this conversation but hey, at least whatever's going on up until the time I drag myself back to the Ministry using the power of pure spite (or strength of will, persistence, and perseverence).

This must be long term, as in over the next several years long term because there is no possible way I'd have the energy to get through all of that in the next few months.

Hopefully the deck listens to my 'wrap it up'.

Reminder to not take the easy road when making major decisions and it'll all be fine, which is oddly ominous somehow. The way this card doesn't normally describe people who were previously described as swords makes me think it's just a nicer, additional description of the hot mess queen.

Here's the thing, though: There isn't just one interpretation of this. It could be showing me that IF I make decisions that are easier and will click with that hot mess ace/four that it's going to cause unnecessary conflict for other people as well as myself with someone getting significantly hurt.

It could also just be describing the various people who will be peripherally involved to whatever ill-advised thing I'm going to fall face first into.

Or, it could describe, in a general sense, what I'm going to end up doing, where I'll temporarily be, and where I'll wind up in the end.

The last one seems more likely, considering I like to think I know myself well enough to know that anywhere I'd go that takes me away from where I am would only ever be done if I knew it would only be temporary and, once the temporary new thing finally falls over, apart, or does whatever it does that results in me no longer being there, I'll end up back here to pick right back up where I left off with the hot mess queen.

Deck was just scolding me about whatever I do making Director Yandle's life difficult, I guess.

Probably means I can also look forward to doing a lot of Divination transcription whenever I roll from my new, temporary job back to my old, permanent job again.

Serves him right, he knows I don't like to travel and would only go if forced, which means he'd be the one to tell me to do it so he'd deserve having his life become more difficult .