#and i have really good days and really terrible days and hes not a Job hes my nephew and i want to treat him like my nephew

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 14

Let's just ignore I've updated this story three days in a row, @ailithnight asked me to make them cry, so we're giving the challenge a shot. This was written today and may very well have typos. Also it literally can't go on like this, I have work tomorrow.

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Jason had called ahead to let them know he was coming to the cave and then promptly turned off his comms again. He didn’t need to hear their questions. Not on comms. It was bad enough he had to face them. 

He drove into the cave, his resolve the only thing keeping him from turning right around. Everyone but Bruce were in their civvies at this point. Jason shouldn’t be so surprised Bruce had called it a night. Not after ghost jumping off a roof in front of them. 

Bruce did care, and Jason could tell himself that now without poison dripping into his ear about how it was only to keep his little soldiers at the top of their game. He was too exhausted to appreciate the missing put at the moment, he just wanted to go home and try to forget for a moment that Ghost had left again, but he had to do this. 

Dick was sitting with an arm around Tim on the meeting table. Tim looked wrecked - good, he thought grimly and immediately felt guilty. He didn’t even have the pit to blame and yes Jason was angry about what had happened tonight, but really he was just as angry at himself. Jason might have tried to make them understand that Ghost needed help, but he’d done a poor job of it and they didn’t hear his grief for themselves. 

They hadn’t felt Ghost’s terror in their electricity trap, his desperate fight to control his panic, they hadn’t felt it as he fell or the shock of pain as he landed. They hadn’t felt the panic reach a fever pitch and then utter silence.

They hadn’t been 50 yards away on another building, running, because they knew something terrible was about to happen. They weren’t the ones who thought they might have already been too late even as they caught him out of the air. 

But Ghost had been alive. He’d been breathing. Panicked, but breathing, yet still utter silence. 

Jason had been terrified. 

And yes he was angry. He should have never let it get so far even in his desperation. They needed to stop chasing him. It wasn’t working. 

It had nearly cost him his life. 

He was a fucking burglar, not a rogue! He wasn’t a murderer who would kill someone if he wasn’t stopped. They should have never used this level of force. They never would have used this level of force if it wasn’t for Jason and his erratic behavior. It was on Jason, not Tim who was a seventeen year old kid just trying to keep this cursed family together. 

Damian was sitting at the meeting table a few seats away from where Tim and Dick were sitting on the table and for him to willingly be that close to Tim without any needle-ing commentary it was practically the equivalent of a hug. 

Jason sighed, then pulled off his helmet and left it on the bike. He couldn’t hide behind the safety of its smooth surface, not for this. He walked over to the meeting table, knowing it would draw the rest over there.

Damian took one look at him, with that sharp judgment that was always in his eyes. “You let him get away.” Jason grit his teeth, refusing to rise to what was just an observation, but it had been a trying night and it was tempting to snap, that he didn’t let him do anything. 

“His powers returned,” he said finally, carefully even-toned.

Tim looked up shortly at that and Dick squeezed his shoulder. Normally, Tim would have been on that detail like a hawk. How long did it last? Did the powers return gradually or all at once? Were there other adverse effects? And probably more questions Jason had not even thought to consider because that was just Tim. Now, Tim was silent.

“Jason?” Bruce asked carefully from somewhere to Jason’s left. Jason couldn’t look at him. Last time they’d been this close Jason had almost shot him. 

Stephanie and Cass joined Tim and Dick to sit on the table, and Damian allowed Cass’ hand in his hair only because she could kick his ass six ways ’til Sunday. Duke was the last to join their loose circle standing to Jason’s right. 

Jason didn’t have any excuses left. He even saw Alfred standing a ways further by the wall. Everyone was here. Babs was definitely still on comms with Bruce, even if the cowl was pulled back. 

He tried to take a steadying breath without being too obvious about it. He probably failed, horribly. 

“You have to leave Ghost to me.”

“Jay… you’ve not exactly…” Dick said carefully, the only one willing to even go near the fact that Jason should be the last person to go after Ghost. That he had been far from rational about the whole thing. That he was invested, personally more than they could even guess. 

“I need-“ Jason looked to the ceiling, breathing for just a moment, before looking down again. “I need you to trust me on this, to let me handle it. What happened tonight… it cannot happen again.” 

He clenched his hands, gathered every shred of courage, then looked to Bruce. 

“Dad, please…” He ignored the gasps from his siblings, from shock or outrage that he of all people pulled this card, maybe both, it didn’t matter. Jason only had eyes for Bruce’s stunned face, for the way his jaw tightened and his eyes were moist under pained brows. He only had ears for the way Bruce’s voice broke partway as he said: “Of course, Jaylad.”

“Thank you,” Jason whispered, afraid his voice would fail him if he spoke any louder. He held Bruce’s gaze with his as he said it, because he deserved to know how much that meant to him. The urge to go over to Bruce was strong, to see if his dad would hug him if given the chance - he thought he would, but that, that would be too much, and the pit would be back in a couple of days. 

Jason couldn’t handle any more tonight. 

He gave Bruce a tight nod and turned to leave, avoiding looking at the reactions of his siblings. 

Out the corner of his eyes as he left, he absently noted the purple backpack he’d stolen from Ghost sitting by the evidence board and that metal cylinder, Ghost had left behind the night Jason had met him, sitting on a shelf amongst other knickknacks. 

In the back of his mind an idea was taking shape, but he'd only realize that the next day.

-

I made myself cry writing this, that happens very rarely. Jason has had a really bad day, but it was the father-son feelings that did me in.

I do not know when I will update next time, the chapter this part belongs to is like 2/3rds done now, but it's the middle I need to fill out. Oh well, I'm enjoying the writing bug while it lasts.

#dp x dc #dead on main #Jason is catnip to Danny #missed connections #Next part is Danny pov

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling a friend about a job I know for certain is terrible?

I have a degree in a creative field of work. Years ago I applied for a job in a city out of state, for a small business. I lowballed on the expected salary because I was desperate to get the job and get established before I moved. I figured once I got my apartment squared away I could look for a better, higher paying job.

Well, I got the job, and it turns out I actually really enjoyed working there. It was a pleasant work environment, I had cool coworkers, the boss was understanding and generous. So I stayed despite the low pay. I did get yearly raises, but even with those I was still below the average salary for my position.

That all changed earlier this year, when the old boss decided to sell the business due to health reasons. The new bosses made their fortune in a completely different industry, and knew nothing about our industry. They are in way over their heads.

They don’t fill out orders correctly. They take on orders that are physically impossible and expect us to do them anyway. They buy expensive new machines, don’t train us on them, and immediately start taking huge orders for them when we haven’t ironed on the kinks. We can’t focus on any complex orders because they’re constantly making us switch gears to personal projects, or forgotten orders, or different huge rush orders. The wife has a habit of rearranging our spaces and messing them all up, sometimes when we’re still in them trying to finish projects. They switched to a new shop management system that is counterintuitive and has too many moving parts and as a result mistakes have been piling up. Did I mention I was the only person in my particular department? Because I am.

It got to the point where I was having breakdowns every day. I have reached the point of total burnout. I finally decided enough was enough and turned in my two weeks’ notice plus however long it takes to train someone new.

Well, my “two weeks plus whatever it takes to train the newbie” has turned into six weeks and counting. They didn’t realize how cheap a date I was. They’ve interviewed people, but they’re all asking for twice the salary they’re offering. Which, good for them, get that scratch, but it means I’m languishing here, still suffering.

Now here is where I feel I MBTA. I have a Facebook friend, an acquaintance I met on another creative project, asking around for any local jobs in (creative field). He also lost his job recently, so he’s pretty hard up. I told him about the position opening up. I did not give him any details why I was leaving, or the pay, or the clusterfuck environment.

I feel like I’m leading him into a trap. But I’m so desperate to leave. I don’t want to leave without a replacement in place, because I like all my coworkers and without that one department the whole business will go belly up and they’ll all be out a job.

Am I leading him into a trap? AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole

[fairy-verse]

The Horror in this universe makes me go mad man. Pretty big fairy... IUuhhUHuhuihIUYGUFdestDYfuygub <3 <3 <3 ... I'm personally really keen to know more about his background, such as: Members involved in the cave-in? Horror's opinion on Error? If the 2 met what was the initial impression / interaction like as I believed it was most likely Error who gave Horror the spot / semi job to patrol around the edge of his domain or was it Horror's own claustrophobia that made him leave? Did any other fairy try and help Horror with his trauma after he was saved? ... Sorry for the amount of questions being thrown at you but I am very very invested in his character (as well as his relationships) and would love to see his reference sheet one day! <3

Friends… The fairies that were unfortunately trapped together with Horror were his friends, good friends, fairies he’d shared meals with, fairies he’d taken steaming baths with in the deeper bowls of Error’s domain, fairies he’d shared nests with as they grew closer. Horror can recall memories of kissing one of them, a sweet one that had such a pretty laugh and always made such luxurious sets of armour… they’d been one of the wounded ones as the rocks and boulders came tumbling down, and they’d been the first to die. Horror wouldn’t know it just then, but it’d been a merciful fate compared to the horrors he faced. Fairies are good to each other, loving even in rivalry, but desperation and starvation can turn even the loveliest of fairies into something horrible, and so it came to be as Horror’s friends suddenly came down upon him, begging his forgiveness even as they caved parts of his skull in their attempt to eat him. He’d been the largest in the group, even back then, but nothing compared to what he was nowadays. He’d only been a little bigger… just a little… but that had been enough for him to be seen as a proper meal.

In the end, it was him who came to weep as he fed on them, keeping them alive but unconscious for as long as possible, but even after they’d turned to stardust, he tried to eat that, too… And then he was found. What a Horror he must have been to witness.

He can’t remember the name his mother gave him…

Horror never had much of an opinion regarding Error. He was their Winter Queen, King Winter, their leader, a pretty, prickly fairy with the brightest, bluest wings Horror had ever seen, and now he stood above Horror with a look of unconcealed distraught upon his face. Of course he’d be upset, Horror has not only confessed to eating his fellow fairies but was even caught in the act of feasting upon their stardust, too. A terrible act to commit, for now his fellow fairies will never be a part of the wind.

Horror expected no mercy, expected to be either cast out of killed for what he’d done, but Error did no such thing. His eye lights had lingered upon the jagged hole in his skull, upon his unnaturally bloated eye light, upon his chipped and broken bones, upon his malnourished body… He felt so ugly….

“Do you wish to stay in these halls?” Error had asked him.

“N…no,” he’d replied. “The rock… th… the… rocks…”

Horror hated being surrounded by cold, stony walls. These halls had been his home, had been his parent’s home, and he’d rarely left them throughout his life, yet now he hated them. He hated them. He hated them.

He hated them!

So, Error allowed him to leave. He allowed him to live outside but to stay within the domain itself and guard its southern borders, for that was to be his punishment. Mercy was the fact that he wouldn’t die, that he wouldn’t be forced to stay in the halls, but he’d still done the unspeakable. He’d still eaten the stardust of a fallen fairy, and thusly couldn’t be granted full mercy, yet Horror was glad despite his grief and anguish. He was permitted to stay outside, to go as he pleased by the southern borders of Error’s domain, and that is all he could ask for.

He was alone after that. None of his remaining friends came for him, none wished to approach, none wanted to take the risk of being eaten. It wounded him. Horror hadn’t wanted to eat any of his fellow fairies, he hadn’t wanted to do it. He wished he could tell them that, but his slurred and broken words made him sound dumb and primitive, made his desperate, engorged eye light seem far too eager when they came too close.

His pathetic whines as they fled from him made him angry… and terribly, terribly sad.

It was becoming difficult to remember things. It was becoming difficult to speak. His back began to hunch as he grew, the side effects of consuming other fairies kicking in. He couldn’t stand going hungry, he always needed to eat the second he felt his stomach twist.

Horror’s muddled memories of his first years in the forest by the southern border are… difficult to comprehend, but there is a light in the form of a golden begonia somewhere in them. He cannot remember her face, but he remembers the warmth she brought, and most importantly of all, the fresh fruits she gave him. A rare treat for a winter fairy to have in the middle of winter.

Few and far between did this flower come to him, but her very last meeting had been the most important one, for she’d brought with her a fairy. A weak, petite, beautiful summer fairy. Dust. She’d given him Dust to care for, and care for him Horror had done. He’d given Dust his bed, fed him with his food, kept him warm by always keeping the fireplace lit with the wood he’d chopped. It had felt so good to care for another fairy again, to have the company of one, even if Dust could hardly stay awake the first few days there.

Horror had prepared for him to leave once he recovered, had mentally prepared to be alone again, to be shunned by other fairies again… But Dust never left. Dust didn’t want to leave him, he’d said, and Horror hadn’t been able to keep himself strong just then, so he cried, and he cried and cried and he held Dust so close that he feared he might crush him, but the cold summer fairy in his arms only cradled his skull, and kissed his forehead so sweetly it did nothing to halt Horror’s tears.

The past is something Horror doesn’t wish to think of. He doesn’t want to ponder on how things would have turned out if past happenings had been different, because in the end, everything that has happened to him has led him to where he is now…

“Bunny?” Whispered Horror, afraid of disturbing his mate should he already have fallen asleep.

“Hm?” Replied Dust, sleepy, but still awake in Horror’s arms. He adjusted himself a little and nuzzled deeper into Horror’s chest, savouring the warmth he emitted.

“I love you,” said Horror, and held Dust ever closer to himself. “I love you,” he said again, the tremble in his voice poorly hidden. “I love you, Dust.”

“I love you, too,” said Dust only after a short pause. “I love you, too, Horror.”

#aufairyverse #utmv #ask for the fairy #fairy!horror #horror sans #canon

[ros3ybabe]

Where Have I Been?

hello lovelies. so, I started the challenege, did one day, and all of a sudden I feel off the face of the earth. I fell into a bit of a depression, and while I've managed to pull myself out, life has been busy busy busy! This is probably the 2nd busiest week of the year (the 1st will be in August, and you'll find out why). Here's an update on life:

I fly to Colorado on the 16th, so....under 5 days now. I haven't packed or anything yet, but I plan on doing that either tomorrow or Thursday. And I have to clean and prepack for when I return because....

I signed a new lease for a new place to live! I'll have roommates who I haven't met yet (I'm taking over someone lease, actually), but my lease starts August 18th. I return from Colorado on the 14th of August, so....I'm going to be very busy once I return.

I decided to call it quits on getting a 2nd job. It's going to mess up the schedule with my first job, and it would only make me 200$ more a month, which I'm not worried about missing our on since I'll still sell stuff on depop once I return from Colorado and I'm going full time at my current job.

I've gone out to lunch with my dad a few times as well, it's been really nice hanging out with him and spending time with my dad. I lucked out in the dad department and spending time with him is one of my favorite things!

I've been debating going to San Fransisco in October for an XG concert, but I don't know if I'll have the money or ability to anymore. (thank you new apartment and all those fees and expenses!)

my anxiety has been terrible. I haven't changed anything about what I do, but I did squish a lot of anxiety inducing things into the span of two weeks, which....my bad on that. Now I know, don't do that to myself.

I bought new makeup! The juvias place bronzer, charlotte tillbury setting spray, nyx eyebrow stuff, and blush, ughhh I love buying new makeup, I just wish it didn't cost money!

I've gotten better at doing my makeup! I've had people not even notice I'm wearing it because it looks natural despite being like, a full face! Thank you perfect color matches on my skin tint, foundation, and concealors!

I went to two movies with a friend. We saw the new Strangers: Chapter One and the Planet of the Apes movie. Both were definitely good, in my opinion.

I now have to plan with my boyfriend for when he needs to come down here and get his stuff and work out changing the utilities to our roommates name since I'm leaving. I don't feel like it should be my job to coordinate that, but oh well. I guess it's too hard for him and his best friend (my roommate) to call each other for once?? Ugh, men get on my nerves sometimes.

I need to ask my dad and a friend to help me move upon my return, which also means I won't be able to work that weekend, which kind of sucks.

I need to declutter my room and start throwing away things I don't want or need anymore this week to make it easier on myself when I return from Colorado but hahaha I procrastinate a lot.

I'm stressed about paying rent. I'll have to pay rent for here and rent/fees for the new place before august and then September's rent for the new place, and my new rent is about double what I pay now. so yayy, adulting and finances. I don't feel qualified to be an adult, but here I am, age 21, an adult.

That's about it for now! Lots of stress, lots of anxiety, lots of stuff happening super close together. But that's life, I guess. Forgive me for my absence from my blogs. I also stopped studying spanish for now, and my routines are non-existent. Colorado will change that, tho, for sure. I do plan on updating a little more frequently once things settle down when I'm in Colorado. but for now, it'll be kinda here and there with my posting.

thank you for all the patience and kindness, lovelies. til next time 🩷

#pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #self development #wonyoungism #it girl #mental health #self care #that girl #physical health #self love #pink academia #pinkcore #pink aesthetic #pink #pilates aesthetic #clean girl aesthetic #clean girl #green juice girl #that girl energy #becoming that girl #it girl self care #it girl energy #studyblr #uniblr #lifeblr #college student #university student #health and fitness #feminine energy #daily routine

[milf-harrington]

where im at mentally these days: my mum hugged me and said im doing a good job and i burst into tears <3

#i mean it was a little more fleshed out than that #i asked for a hug and she asked if i was okay and i didnt say anything so she said something about me feeling like #untethered. just kind of floating through life. and i said yeah. and she told me im doing a good job like. getting through the day basically #and i cried about it because i dont even know why its so hard #and i feel so shitty all the time because i just feel like a shit person like i dont try hard enough with my nephew #and hes so little and so smart and im so awful and every day im worried hes going to stop liking me bc im still learning how to be. gentle. #because i grew up with yelling and a locked pantry and an older sister who had to raise me #so i dont know how to not yell and not escape into my own world when i cant be bothered #and i have really good days and really terrible days and hes not a Job hes my nephew and i want to treat him like my nephew #and it feels so selfish to say im tired and that its hard and stressful and i dont know what im doing #bc my sister has to do it too and she doesnt get breaks like i do #she doesnt get to just decide to leave for the night - and i mean i dont do that but i have the option #and everyone keeps. like. telling me im doing good and im helpful and my sister especially tells me often shes grateful for me #and it makes me feel Awful bc i feel like i dont do enough and that the stuff i DO isnt good enough and just argh #anyway #vent over i need to go to bed its 1am and i have to get up in 5 hours #captain speaks

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

the way teachers and principals have accepted the ever increasing documentation, the way principals and their bosses have accepted all kinds of "new" trends based off pseudoscience, the way all this new research aims to make every lesson "exactly the same" as if that's beneficial to anyone except for the fact that teachers will then become easily replacable (bc if there's a universal lesson structure you don't need to educate teachers, just give someone the template and set them loose), the way kids don't get properly taugHT to read when they're young, especially the dyslexic ones who get handed a piece of technology with audiobooks instead bc it costs less than having a qualified adult help them one-on-one. the complacency.

#i just really keep finding it more and more depressing to be a teacher #bc so many things have gone so terribly wrong #and the result is that we get 15 year olds who can't actually read at the age level they should #my grandfather went to school until age 12 and he can read but 12 year olds nowadays? can barely read #it's completely fucked #i like my job but i hate what it has turned into #you need to really be lucky to find a principal who can be realistic and wants to actively try and solve problems and help the kids #rather than hire specific roles that sound good but only sit in their offices all day and write reports but never actually help kids in any #real way. which is what my new school has. special education person who never helps kids one-on-one #what the fuck is her purpose in a school if she never interacts with kids? god only knows

[wolves-in-the-world]

[edit: this is accidentally a net zero information post my apologies, except that the colour symbolism referenced below is still incredibly cool and possibly still fits]

—

the 'bad thing on the left, good thing on the right' symbolism is such an ingrained thing in the western cultural consciousness that it's done without really thinking about it, to the point where I cannot remember a quinn-and-companion artwork that doesn't do that (with quinn as the sinister one, obviously), and yet

in the last dam job, except when they're sitting around the table planning with the team (when they meet in kyiv, when they encounter and leave dubenich, when they shake hands and walk away at the end), it's always quinn on the right and eliot on the left.

and that's interesting. because eliot is grappling with a big messy ethical quandry (do I kill this guy so my friend & leader doesn't have to, do I fall back on old awful habits so at least it's me doing it) basically the entire time. we see eliot in his don't-mess-with-me-I'm-eliot-spencer hitter getup and he never changes out of that red shirt*, he runs right at someone firing a gun at him and tells him the gun is what makes it fair-

(*it has been pointed out to me that it's a different red shirt, which is very cool on the colour symbolism front)

he is, the entire time, closer to the darker side of the eliot we know very well by the end of season four. and quinn is… quinn we met as a fast-hitting curly-haired bastard and are becoming familiar with again as someone eliot trusted enough to hire, a decent ally at least when he's paid to be. he banters. he threatens. he does the work.

he offers to kill dubenich for eliot with none of the angst eliot's dealing with, apparently none of the weight on his soul, and we all collectively went hm, amoral bastard, with less in the way of shadows in his heart than eliot has.

maybe it's a stretch to say this symbolism is partly why but I am delighted it ties in well.

#quinn is friend-coded even in the left/right symbolism in this essay I will (and apparently have-) #like I have toyed before with the idea that ethically eliot is. worse off? than quinn? because he knew what was bad and he did it anyway #whereas quinn is on some level. wrong. broken. no compass so less weight to his actions. #still capable of such terrible things but with a different purpose & experience behind it. #and I LOVE that the symbolism matches up with this. eliot sinister quinn good they just have to deal with it. <3 #(except when they're around the team because THEN eliot's a friend and teammate and quinn's a stranger on par with chaos) #HI BRAIN BUZZING ABOUT THIS VERY MUCH ACTUALLY #very normal day I rolled out of bed post-nap to do a quick post about symbolism and oops #LIKE because I genuinely just posted about this I think it still Makes Sense that quinn's often put on the left in artworks #the last dam job is a specific situation where eliot's working through a specific thing and we see him nearly kill a guy. you know? #to say he's especially morally grubby in that episode would be an understatement. and quinn really is so well-behaved. #nice besuited hitter for hire does as he's asked and doesn't have any extra fun on the job (unless you count joking with eliot) #it Makes Sense that when incorporating quinn in a more permanent fashion the rules would change.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#Jesus. just finished my interview. no idea how it went #i think it was much too rambling on my part and they asked almost exclusively sciency questions #ugh hopefully i didn't look like a completle moron. the guy was sorta inscrutable so no idea what he thought #and he was like hmm whats ur competition here? and i dont give a fuck abt competition and also it doesnt really matter #fuck. i should have said. it would b fine if they were doing the exact same project bc we would b evolving different strains and it would b #interesting if they evolved even the exact same traits. fuck #i think objectively i probably looked like someone who halfway knows what theyre doing without the specific knowledge #which is exactly true. like mother fuckers ive got a full time job to be overworked in. i dont have time to memorize details of every #pathway change in every desert cyano #uuuuugh its just annoying bc my brain doesnt work well in the moment. i need time to process and knit together an answer #so i wouldnt b surprised if i was ranked low. oh god i was told the interview was prob a formality unless it goes terribly #itll b real embarrassing if i dont get passed this stage now #whatever it was a bit chaotic on their end too bc one guy didnt show up until halfway thru so i kinda had to go back and say things twice #uuuuuuuuuuggh. well that kinda sucked. at least its done. out of my hands now. #i was getting too excited abt it anyway. this will reaffirm my: obviously im not gonna get it vibes #i mean thats what i get for trying to join a very competitive program. like i am not a competitive person #rip to my lab mate who im gonna whine at all day abt this. i have to meet him in less than an hour #welp. there r other schools. god i hope at least one of them accepts me #ugh i just think its kinda annoying they they want u to be perfectly qualified for things lol. like i would need someone to step thru the #lab process with me literally once or twice and then id be good to go #like maybe a couple hours of someones time to remind me. thats it. humans r adaptable #i can obviously carry out a project to its conclusion and i have a lot of passion. not that they asked. but yeah #oh well. i should have breakfast before i freeze in the desert all day #unrelated

[deus-ex-mona]

stuff’s wildin’, my dudes

#auhxhsjahs i n c o h e r e nt rambling coming right up you’ve been warned o k ie~? #so the other day i finally found out about that [redacted thing (if ykyk)]’s (thankfully outdated) mistranslator masterlist and stuff #and i googled the op of that list to see what others had to say about ‘em #(cuz personally i found the dude’s tone through it all to be. pretty mean actually??) #(like h e l p tling probably isn’t these people’s day jobs; they’re probs just hobby tlers?? ease up my g~~~) #b u t i digress. despite having searched for the op of that post i somehow found a post by another fan tler who seemed to have vanished? #*vanished from that [redacted] tling community i mean. they just stopped uploading years ago. prolly bc their main yt channel was terminated #and they??? despite having not made a single post in almost 10 years??? seem to be alive and well in this current age????? #like yoooooooo i’ve legitimately had the thought that something bad had happened to ‘em for y e a r s but they!!! they’re alive!!!!!!! #they seem to have stopped tling for good but!!!!! they’re alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #so i guess i can say that i went hunting for trash and found treasure instead o o o p— #but on another note. i think gatekeeping tling isn’t cool at all. #like yeah there can be some really fishy tls (including official tls a he m) but being mean about it helps no one at all #and so! that’s why! i keep my big mouth shut whenever i see fishy tls floating about the vast open sea in front of me~~~ #i mean. quite a number of those fishy tls are mine anyway. so. um. i don’t have any room to say anything really ahaha~~~~ #but please!!! feel free to blast my tls if you’d like!! my absolutely terrible daikirai tl is a free for all!!!!! #g o d i should really revise that soon. it’s terribly mistranslated and i cringe and wilt inside. #it is suiyoubi my dudes #well. not anymore but… it is still suiyoubi in my heart <3

[shadyhouse]

i think the worst part of all of this shit in my life rn is that they didnt give me enough notice for anything so i had no other choice but to just Quit my job without notice. but that means i can never go back to work in any store in any location bc its their policy or whatever. so i don't have a job to go back to at all

#like. i dont know whether im an idiot for all this or if i really had a chance at it #i do terribly on phones what was i thinking. if not today i wouldve gotten fired at some other point #like a good trusted friend has worked there for 2 years its a legit company its just. EXTREMELY fucking picky i guess. #the second worst part is that the instructor asked me what name i preferred to go by bc i was trying to ask him ALL DAY what to do about my #legal name. and he didnt get to me until 6 hours later exactly the monent he learned that my computer didnt have enough ram #so fucking dumb like dude you cant wait TWO WEEKS out of the FOUR WEEKS OF TRAINING for me to get a new computer #is this company really going to onboard like. Every single fucking person like do all the paperwork and everything #just to immediately fire them if they have ONE THING MISSING on day one #im actually so mad about this like. are you serious. are you for real. #'apply again in 30 days. goodbye' ?!?!? what are you TALKING ABOUT what am i going to be doing 30 days from now. i quit my job to do this

[arthur-r]

!!!!

#i emailed them when i woke up pretty much and then i was distracted and busy but they got back to me!! #basically i emailed asking if i could conduct email interviews with any interested staff members #where i could learn about what they did for college what they do on a typical day and stuff like that!! #cause im still trying really hard to figure out what kind of degree i want to be a museum person #and like. if i get a masters in public history and library science would it actually apply to somewhere like mia? #and what kind of job within a museum would best fit my personal skills and limitations and just. stuff like that #and they emailed me back which is great #anyway hi world it’s been a minute i’ve been sequestering myself inside of my mind and disintegrating on the daily #because my dad is terrible at single parenting and my mom is missing in action (she’s on a planned trip don’t worry) but im not good at #taking care of myself my dad thinks cooking is womens work (unless it’s grilling which he has loads of books on and sometimes does) and i #don’t care enough about my own well being to make myself food half the time. so i just haven’t been eating haven’t been getting out of bed #but as of today i just had a shower i have laundry in the laundry machine things are looking up a little #and my sisters murder mystery party is later today i have to dress up as a victorian lady named starr dangerfield #im going to wear my own clothes mostly so there shouldn’t be too much dysphoria. but i will be putting my hair in tiny pigtails #which is something i did every day when i was a cisgender high school freshman. my current hair is like my old pigtails hair but just erase #the pigtail part from existence. like the reason i always had those pigtails was so that most of my hair would be what im actually #comfortable with which is what i have now. but even my short hair is still capable of the smallest little pigtails. and thats what i will do #idk i might be able to get by having my regular hair. that would be very much preferable #my sister is going to give me some crazy dramatic makeup though too. wish me luck :( #oh but the cool thing about starr dangerfield is that she’s the curator of the carnivals wax museum!! which. i don’t like wax figures but #as evidenced by the email exchange that’s going on right now i do love museums and curating so!! that’s good stuff #anyway i have to go see if my laundry is moveable. but just. yeah. mini life update #me. my post. mine. #delete later

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

#sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #big brother!sukuna

[incognit0slut]

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ◞ 𝑳𝑵⁴

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⤫ fem!bsf!reader x lando norris

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ in which lando always misses his best friend (you) terribly when he travels as much as he does. so when you travel with him to the Chinese GP, he couldn’t be happier to have you by his side. However when you spend a few hours with Lily when lando and alex are busy with meetings, he can’t help but feel a bit of separation anxiety settle in.

✰ 𝐜𝐰 ⤫ just some fluff!

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ my first time writing for lando!! the friends to lovers trope just never gets old and thus I shall never stop writing it.

lando was laying on his hotel bed, debating whether or not he should get up and retrieve the TV remote. he knew he wasn’t going to pay much attention anyway. his mind was elsewhere. specifically on that old brown clock on the wall, the obnoxious sound of tik-tik-tik making him hyper aware of every second that passes. every second that he was stuck in that hotel room and you were somewhere else without him.

he wasn’t stuck exactly. it’s not like he’s a prisoner that couldn’t go anywhere, he could very well call or text you, find out where you and lily have wandered off to and join the two of you. or simply snatch you away and bring you back here.

lando would like to say that he wasn’t usually this selfish with you, but that would be a lie. ever since he met you at that one karting event, lando’s been jealous of anyone else who gets to spend time with you.

he still remembers the day he met you like it was yesterday. it was just during the time period when lando began to really get into karting, he was maybe six or seven. he was good at it too, relishing in taking the number one spot on the make shift podium every time. and that was the case that particular weekend as well, although from the way everyone seemed to flock to you afterwards, you wouldn’t have been able to tell who won.

lando was really annoyed by it, making assumptions in his anger that maybe they only focused so much on you because you were the only girl, but later he would learn that it wasn’t the case. people flocked to you simply because you were… you.

lando wasn’t immune to it either because by the third time you guys raced each other, you had become best of friends. and even years later when your interest had gone beyond the race track and lando’s passion for it only intensified, you had still remained close.

therefore it wasn’t a foreign concept for lando not see you often. he was travelling most of the year, rarely in one country for more than a couple weeks at a time. and he knew how serious you were about your studies and now your job, you weren’t going to follow him around like a lost puppy, although he had tried to convince you more than once already.

on the rare occasion that you did fly out and visited him, he wanted every minute of your time to be spent with him, which is why he’s a little pouty that his meeting stretched long today and you had decided to occupy your time by going to explore the city with lily.

lando was aware that his mindset was a tad bit childish, but he hadn’t seen you all day and that justifies —

his thoughts get halted by a beep in the door, followed by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen making her way into his room. lando moves so fast he almost trips multiple times on the way to you. he’s sure he’s mimicking an over excited puppy. who’s been waiting all day for their owner to come home (as he has been) and getting excited and flocking to them as soon as they walk through the door (as he did) and then following and clinging to them for an ounce of attention (as he’s about to)

“hi lan,” you greet him, putting your shopping bags down against the wall and removing your jacket, hanging it behind the door

he doesn’t respond verbally, instead just wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards the bed.

“lan,” you giggle as he falls on top of the bed, pulling you with him. he tightens his arms around you and rests his head on your chest sighing constantly as your hands run through his hair

“lily asked if we wanted to go to dinner with her and alex tonight. I said I’d hear what your plans are first,” you say

“no. I’m not in the mood for other people. I only wanna see you right now. I really missed you.” lando says and you laugh softly

“you just saw me yesterday,” you say softly and lando purses his lips, resting his chin on your chest to look at you

“so? am I not allowed to miss you? are you saying you didn’t miss me?” lando asks, gasping in mock hurt and you laugh

“no I did. I always miss you. cause my best friend just had to go and choose one of the jobs where he’s rarely home and I barely get to see him,” you say dramatically, a smile on your face but it quickly fades when you see the solemn expression on lando’s face

“what’s wrong?” you ask, gently caressing his cheek and he leans into your hand

“nothing,” he replies but you give him a look and he sighs before saying, “I just wonder if it’s worth it sometimes. all the travelling, the never being home, the missing out on seeing my niece grow up. all the things I could’ve had by now,” lando says, looking at you as if he wanted to add to it but he’s holding back.

“what things? lan racing is all you’ve ever wanted to do. it’s your dream. your passion. it’s everything to you-“

“well maybe it shouldn’t be. maybe I wanna prioritize my personal life too. and maybe I wanna see you more than just three times a year,” lando says and your heart squeezes at the longing look on his face

“maybe I wanna stop being scared and tell the girl I’ve been in love with my life that I can’t go three hours without seeing her, let alone three months,” lando says, playing the the strings of his hoodie, vulnerability shining through

“you never said anything,” you reply, your heart beating so loud in your chest you can hear it in your ears

“cause it’s selfish. what can I offer you? I travel all the time. I’m barely home. I won’t be able to be there for you in the same capacity you’re there for me. and it would be unfair to ask you to travel with me all the time. it’s just unfair, and I won’t do it to you. but the idea of giving up racing…”

“is utterly ridiculous and you would be so unhappy,” you say and lando lets out a soft laugh. his heart swelling at the fact you know him that well

“yeah,” he agrees. furrow between his brows as he lets out a sigh

“the thing about racing is that there are so many things out of your control lan. and relying on that for your happiness is setting yourself up for failure,” you say

“well… there are certain things I can control,” lando says, looking at your lips briefly before lowering his head to yours, your lips connecting in a soft kiss that sparks butterflies in your stomach

“should’ve done that a long time ago,” lando says softly and the grin on your face mirrors his

“do it again,” you say and he laughs softly, pressing his lips to yours once more

lando knows in a few days he’s gonna have to miss you all over again, but as long as he gets to come home to you at the end of the day, everything’s gonna be okay.

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✗ LN4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader

[lovebugism]

can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[chilumi-shipper]

From Me, For You

Childe x GN!Reader / Alhaitham x GN!Reader

Summary: You love creating something special for them, it's your love language to say the least, it's the way you show love for them. But at some point, it seems like they stopped caring for the things you make, and in a moment where the stress was getting to them, they even said something so hurtful about your favorite thing to do for them.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt with Comfort, Crying, Childe coming home with blood covering him, Hurtful Comments

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Childe

Your relationship with him is... surprising, to say the least.

You're just a baker in Liyue that happened to sell one of the best Shezhnayan pastries that a certain homesick Harbinger was really craving. One thing led to another, and now you're in love and in a relationship with a Fatui Harbinger.

It's not like you didn't try your damn hardest not to fall for his charms, but seeing him eat the pastries you make and jokingly sob about his home, with the pastry's filling staining the corners of his lip, it just touched your heart.

But you forgot for a bit... he's a Harbinger...

He's not always gonna be the Ajax that taste test your baked goods every other day and would give the biggest smile with the usual comment of "Everything is perfect! You're perfect!"

And that's increasingly becoming more prominent.

You looked at the Shezhnayan baking book intently, making sure you follow the way of making a local pastry filling to a T. This is very important to you, your boyfriend's birthday is just around the corner, and you really really wanted to give him a taste of home since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his home nation.

You have to make sure to not screw up, so you're practicing early on.

The sound of your front door opening perked your ears up, making you put down the bowl of filling you were working on and skip on to your living room.

"Jax!" You affectionately called for him before you could even see him clearly.

The sight that greeted you, however, promptly stopped you from jumping at him for a hug.

Blood...

Whether his or someone else's, it mortified you. You were speechless.

"What...?" Childe scoffed at the sight of your shocked expression. "This is what being a Harbinger is." He looked down at his soiled clothes, feeling rather uncomfortable. "You should get used to this, babe."

The usual warmth of his presence in your house changed into an atmosphere that made you sick to the stomach.

"Please..." You started, your heart beating rapidly and your voice laced with disbelief. "Wash up... I..." After such a sight, could you really ask him to taste test one of your many endeavors in baking again?

This man... this Harbinger... he wasn't the Ajax you wished to see. But that's still him, just not the version he made you become privy to.

However, after so many days and nights that he showed up like... that, you got used to it, got used to the slow uprising of a worse version of him, the version of him that didn't give a fuck about what brought you together in the first place, the version of him that no longer accepted welcoming hugs and kisses, the version of him that made you feel so... worthless.

"Are you baking again? I know it's your job and all, but could you like... just not bring it home?" The ginger said that one time, rather hypocritically considering that he brought that terrible attitude from his job to your home.

"I'm working on something important..." You excused his rather hurtful words, you were rather sensitive when someone mentions something negative to you about the hobby that made you so happy. "Can you try it and tell me what you think?"

"Not in the mood." You knew that he was rather tired from taking care of something for his job, but that dismissive tone made your heart ache... and just when you think you've finally perfected his childhood favorite treat.

A moment of silence fills the room before a quiet "Please..." escapes you in a very hesitant tone. You worked so hard... finding an actual Snezhnayan baking book with local recipes, practicing over and over to make it perfect, even making sure to add your own little touch that compliments the taste.

Maybe you shouldn't have said that, otherwise, he wouldn't have stood up from the couch to face your smaller figure holding onto the tray of baked goods, looking up at his looming figure.

"You know, Y/N..." Your breathing already became heavy at the cold call of your name. "There are so many more useful things you could do than bake all day. This..." A gasp escaped your mouth when he grabbed the tray from your hands and threw it down on the kitchen island.

"This is just worthless."

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, and you could no longer hold in the sob in your throat, as you started crying pathetically right in front of him. You whimpered as you tried to control your falling tears and your harsh breathing.

You couldn't say anything back, your cheeks and nose only reddening at the rapid emotion that's escaping you. No longer being able to handle being right in front of him, you ran up to your room, closing the door and face planting on the bed, muffling your cries with the sheets.

Back downstairs, Childe was still processing everything.

"There's nothing to process, you are a dick." His inner self told him, and he completely agrees as he sighs, dragging his fingers along his ginger hair in frustration in himself.

Why did he do that? Why did he say those hurtful things? Why did he treat you like you were one of his targets that he was assigned to manipulate?

Work got to him, it has been for weeks, but it was no excuse. He brought a monster he couldn't control into your house, and now... you were hurt.

His blue eyes darted to the pastries he haphazardly threw on the counter, most were still on the tray, in a mess and no longer in a firm order in which you like to arranger your treats.

A realization hit him... they look a lot like...

Childe then remembered the look on your face when you whispered a plea. Your eyes were hopeful when he stood up, and then your body shook when you realized he wasn't intending on tasting anything.

A memory flashed in his mind, even intensifying when he picked up a treat and bit into it, a sweet, warm filling coating the inside of his mouth. It was delicious... and just like in your Y/N way, everything you make made him feel better.

His senses getting better meant the pit in his stomach got worse, the regret of going off on you consuming him more and more.

He then hurried up to your room, gently opening your door to not startle you. His heart broke at the sight of you, your face buried into your pillows, your shoulders shaking and indicating that you're crying still. He knows that after what he did, he has no right to even feel hurt at the sight of you... but he loves you! And he knows he hasn't been showing it.

Without a word, without turning around to face him, you spoke. "P-please... L-le-leave me a-alone." Your words were muffled, and you were stuttering due to the sobs you still couldn't control.

"Baby, I... I'm so sorry..." Childe knew that those words could never be enough to make you feel better, but he at least needed a chance to say his piece, even though he may not deserve it. "Work has been... it's been making me like this... but, I know I can't use that as an excuse..."

"I've been a prick..." You didn't respond to him, but your sobs did die down to little sniffles. "And I don't deserve someone like you..."

"You just made the perfect replica of one of my favorite treats, and you probably did so much for this. Archons, babe, you're amazing. And so so caring." Ajax felt tears starting to form, his vision getting cloudy as his eyes water. If you forced him to leave, he would, but he wanted to pour everything in his heart for you out, and finally finally let out the emotion he had to keep in due to his job.

"I love you so much, Y/N... for being such an amazing person that lit up my life." He walked closer to you, prompting to sit on the bed beside you. Still, you give no response. "And the fact that you love me... that... you loved me...."

"I'm so honored that you even let me be your taste tester." The ginger chuckled a bit, reveling in the sweet memory.

"And I can't fucking believe that I just hurt you like that. I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." Finally, the tears in his eyes fell, and his voice broke when he spoke.

He wasn't use to fear, but at that moment, he truly felt the fear of you rejecting him.

After a few seconds, you turned to him, and he felt even more guilty to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

"C-Couch..." You whispered while pointing at him, making the ginger tilt his head in confusion. "S-Sleep on the couch." You stuttered out, and Childe immediately nodded, accepting your statement.

"A-And no more hugs and kisses, no p-pastries either." You firmly stated (as firm as your sniffly state could say at least). "For a month."

"Okay.... Yes, understood!" Childe wiped the tears on his face, answering you with determination. If that's what it took for you to forgive him, he's gonna do it with ease.

"And no coming home with b-blood on you. Please..." He got off the bed to get on his knees in front of you.

"I promise..." With many of his promises, he had an instinct to kiss your forehead as a reassurance, but you avoided his hand before he could hold your head to go in to press a kiss.

"Wait a month." You let out a strained giggle, and he smiled at how sweet it was despite his lips tingling in the anticipation of a kiss.

The whole no hugs and kisses is gonna be hard, and the no pastries means that he's not gonna get a taste of your love for an entire month!

But he will persevere, just for you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Alhaitham

You have a knack for crafting little momentos and preserving memories by creatively incorporating moments into the trinkets that you make.

It's your favorite hobby! And you're rather proud that you can make such cute little things that don't look tacky.

Kaveh was actually pleased the very first time Alhaitham came home with a decor you made, an embroidery of an irritated dendro slime reading a thick book that he can hang on a wall. You presented it to him with all smiles, saying that that was how you saw him the first time you saw him in the House of Deana.

"Finally! You actually got something to hang up that doesn't embody your atrocious taste!" Kaveh was enthusiastic, yet still managed to diss the gray haired scholar while giving out a compliment.

The first thing you ever made for him was that embroidery. And Archon's did your heart flutter and leaped with joy when he actually accepted it. What you were expecting was a comment from him like "I think it's silly to represent me with a slime. I would say that my IQ level is much higher than those elemental lifeforms."

You were both just acquaintances when you gave him that gift, but that sparked something between you. You were smart, creative, and didn't speak to him all stiff and nervous like many of your peers. You make the atmosphere easy to be in, and Alhaitham happens to like it when things are easy for him.

You liked his company just as much, finding his calmness and straightforwardness so tranquil and refreshing, not to mention his funny smarty pants attitude. You liked him so much that you would sit by him in the Akademiya or in the library and do your handy work.

it basically progressed from that. "I enjoy being with you, and you kissed me that one time and I liked it. And I can see that you enjoy being with me too. So we're together now." He stated, and you were in shock, he's always been straightforward, but that was truly unexpected.

"Y-You haven't even... taken me out on a date yet!" That was the first thing that you thought to say, still processing everything.

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, "You don't call this and our every other meeting a date? We are together and we're doing what we want to do." Damn it, he made a good point.

"B-But..." You stuttered, making him sigh.

"Do you not want to be with me?"

"No! I-I mean... yes... Yes! I do, but you just dropped it all out of nowhere." You argued, seriously having a love-hate relationship with his unapologetic honesty.

He ignored your comment, only choosing to hear that you want to be with him. "Good, you're my partner now."

And then... with you being you, every milestone, every special event in your relationship, you'd make something for him.

First anniversary? A custom picture frame with 12 pictures of both of you in it to remind him of the 12 months you've been together.

His birthday? A crochet little plant in a pot, the plant seemingly just sprouting.

Just a random day? Well, you got something for him anyway. :D

You love him to bits and you wanted to show them in your very own love language, crafting little gifts!

Each one, Alhaitham accepted in an uncharacteristically bashful yet still pleased manner, muttering a "Thank you..." or a "You never fail to impress me." and then you are presented with a great honor of a smile from the scribe.

Making him feel happy and warm inside (though he would never admit that he was, but he really was) by making things for him made you so happy!

You managed to fill his desk with your creations, not just decor, but some useful trinkets too! Like a functional hourglass, a lamp that he can write on, and an organizer for books because you swear that he literally just lets the books litter his office since he reads lots of them on and off, and you needed to do something about it.

The main thing is... he loves your love for creativity.

At least... that's what you thought...

But ever since he became the Acting Grand Sage...

Alhaitham has always been an honest person, never one to beat around the bush or spare anyone's feeling by keeping his opinions to himself.

And he sure has gotten colder, much more poky, probing at the weaknesses and insecurities of many scholars in an attempt to only let researches and works he finds worthy to continue. The rest shall no longer be conducted.

Apparently, that included your work.

"I don't see a use for such an object. I prefer things in my desk to be practical."

"The way you designed it is rather... silly. Far too childish to be of sensible use."

"Decors are not necessary, there's better use of your time."

You took all of his critiques, from then and now, to heart, making sure to reflect on his words to improve. But when he was still the Scribe, he at least commented on how to improve.

Now, it's like... he wants you to stop.

You're currently in the office of the Acting Grand Sage, you brought your crocheting kit with you to pass the time, hoping to just have a quiet afternoon with him while you both do your work, much like what you did in the past.

"Alhaitham, what'cha up to?" You asked innocently, still working on your crochet as you were seated on the floor. He was working on something on his desk, his brows pulled together as he frowned at the report in front of him.

That was what you usually do, ask some questions about each other's business, encourage each other if it's really stressing you out, or jab at how you could never do his work, and he would not have even a quarter of your patience to finish a craft.

This time, however, he does not grace you with a response, preserving the quietness of the room. You got the message, so you opted to keep quiet and keep on crocheting a blanket with a print that you were planning to give him, maybe a fluffy blanket will keep out his cold mood.

A few minutes later though, you don't know exactly what made him snap, you don't know why he suddenly called your name, and you don't know why he looked at you with such a frustrated look.

"Y/N, just drop it." Alhaitham suddenly blurted out to you. Making you jump and pause what you're doing.

"W-What?" You stuttered, confused and worried at the same time.

"I saw that you've been struggling on that thing for hours, can't you just move on to something more useful?" The gray haired man sighed. "You're so creative, and you're wasting your time with that." He said it like so condescendingly, that such a calm sounding comment penetrated your heart more than an actual insult could.

"I mean, look at all this." He motions to his desk. "A bunch of junk that serves no purpose. I really don't see why you need to do all this." Tears started collecting in your eyes, and you heard his words as if you're the junk that serves no purpose.

"B-But... those are all presents for... y-you." Your voice was shaking, and you could only manage to whisper. "I wanted to make them for you."

"Then perhaps it is me that don't want to receive them anymore."

And that's what got to you. What you do to show your love, what you try to do for him, he doesn't even like. So does he even love you at all?

Tears streamed down your face, and what initially started as sniffles turned into sobs that echoed around the large room. You stood up, stuffing your things into your bag before aggressively wiping your tears away, though more seem to fall anyway.

Without another word, you ran to the elevator before rushing out of the Akademiya, running back home with a broken heart. It was a miracle you didn't trip with how cloudy your vision got from the tears.

...

"What are you doing here?" Alhaitham raised a brow, seeing Kaveh in his office, sweeping everything on his desk into a large bag.

The blond architect ignored him, clearing out the desk before heading for the wall with a few of your works filled the space.

"Did Y/N make this?" Kaveh questioned, finally looking at his roommate. Alhaitham merely nodded, though even more confused when the architect took the pieces and shoved them in the bag too.

"What are you doing?"

Kaveh scoffed, shaking his head at the Acting Grand Sage's pathetic ignorance. "You don't deserve these things!" He then proceeded to glare at him. "Saying such mean things at Y/N, they did nothing wrong and you started acting like some obnoxious fucker that just wanna bring people down."

"I mean, I know you like doing that. But to Y/N?" Kaveh questioned in disbelief. "Yeah, you don't deserve any of this."

And so Alhaitham was reminded of his words from yesterday, as well as you're crying face as you ran out of his office. He (rather stupidly) thought that you'd get over the comments, after all, you didn't mind his critiques from before.

"I wanted to make them for you." He remembers what you said, all the things Kaveh had in the large bag were for him. You wanted to make those for him.

You made them because... you love him...

And he fucked up.

Kaveh was done with his sweep, leaving him in a eerily empty room, free of everything that made it a bearable to work in. He hated the office of the Grand Sage, but your presence, the presence of your creations... made it that much better.

He had to fix this.

...

You heard knocking at your door, but after looking at the peephole and seeing a gray haired scholar for the fifth time that day, you didn't bother opening the door.

"Darling?" You ignored the endearment muffled by the wall separating the both of you.

On the other side, Alhaitham sighed before resting his head on your door. He's been trying to talk to you properly for five hours, but he didn't just want to say what he wanted to at your door, risking you not hearing what he has to say for himself.

"Listen, Y/N, I'll just be here... working." He didn't leave just yet. "You can join me, if you want. Just like before."

He sat back down on the bench that was right in front of your house. He brought the work he has to get done with him, and trying to swallow down the guilt yet again, he proceeded to work into the well hours of the night before leaving with yet another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you.

For many days, it was like that, he stayed outside your home. Whenever you needed to go out, you ignored him, even if he followed you, even if he tried to talk to you, you wouldn't give him the time of day.

"I think this type of yarn would be good for structure." Alhaitham held a roll of yarn in his hand, looking you and anticipating a response.

Though you said nothing, you confirmed that you at least listen when you plucked up another roll of the same yarn and paid for it. He smiled a little, though you didn't wish to humor him further.

Everyday, Alhaitham would be working in front of your house, maybe knocking once in a while to check in on you. It was rather heartbreaking to see, from your window, you saw him sit there, looking like he isn't even getting work done, just staring at the reports and trying to make something of it.

And finally, it was night yet again, a particularly cold one this time around. The cold breeze as the sun sets in for the night sent goosebumps down the Acting Grand Sage's spine, but it was far too early to leave, so he didn't budge.

You don't get it, you don't want to feel sorry for him, he couldn't just say something so harsh yet act so stubborn to force you to forgive him!

But tonight... he does look rather cold, and from what you learned the days before, nothing will make him move from that bench until you let him talk to you properly.

There was a soft warmth that ingulfed Alhaitham as he was busy with his work, from his peripherals he could see the makings of a blanket, effectively shielding him from the cold.

Looking back, he saw you dressed in your pajamas, not bothering to make eye contact with him. "You looked cold." were the only words that you said to him.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was working in front of your house, you joined in on his day, finishing the blanket you were planning to give him before his outburst.

It felt like such a waste to scrap it, especially since you were half done with it already...

He stood up from the bench, looking uncharacteristically enthused at you. "Thanks..." He was looking fondly at you, but you still refused to meet his gaze.

You also noticed from watching him a bit that he wasn't really eating much throughout the day, so before you could stop yourself...

"Would you like to come in for dinner?"

...

You were quiet for most of the meal, but his ears perked at the occasional sniffles you let out, implying that you were trying not to cry. Alhaitham felt shitty for thinking he even had the right to feel bad when he was the one that caused all this.

After dinner, it was still silent, but Alhaitham proceeded to evaluate the blanket you gave him in your living room. It was crochet with, yet again, an irritated dendro slime on top of a building that resembles the Akademiya, you must have observed him and his sour mood from being the Acting Grand Sage.

"Do I get to keep this?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.

You bit your lip, anxiously twiddling your thumbs. "Umm... It's... not of much use." You replied, earning a sigh from him.

With your comment, Alhaitham made his way right in front of you, making it perfectly clear for him see that tears have started to fall from your eyes. "I-I think... it would be best if you g-go now."

You were looking down, still trying to cover your face despite knowing that he knew you were crying.

"Would it be okay if I talk to you properly first?" Something in you wanted him to leave because you thought that he deserved it, but you still wanted answers. Why did he say all those mean things to you? Why did he hate what you make so much? Why was he persistently outside your house all the time to persuade you to finally talk to him?

You didn't answer, but didn't motion at all for him to leave, so he took his chance before it was too late. "There's nothing I love more in the world than you. And to lash out on you for doing something you love was absolutely idiotic of me."

He took your hands in his, "I hated being the Grand Sage, I hated having to deal with the shit I don't care about. That hate just continued to build up, and I... you were the one that unfairly received it all."

"You didn't deserve any of that. And I know I can't use being stressed as an excuse for hurting you, that was my own stupid act. But I am truly sorry."

"I-I would have stopped making things for you if you hated them so much." You finally looked up at him with wet doe eyes, effectively clenching his heart even more.

"No, no, darling... I love what you make, every single one. Because I know that making them makes you happy, and I love seeing you happy." He lets go of one of your hands to wipe your tears away. "I'm so sorry about everything I said, darling. The moment Kaveh took everything from my office, I realized how empty it was... without you..."

"He did that?" You asked in disbelief, your question laced with a strained chuckle. He nodded, a pout forming on his face.

"Yeah, and I realized how terrible it was..."

You laughed, though your cheeks were still stained by dried tears. "Do you like the blanket I made you?" You asked him, and he gave you a rare genuine smile.

"I love it, you're a star for making it for me." He closed the gap between the both of you, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace.

"I love everything you gift me. I love you..." He whispered as he hugged you warmly.

"Even the plushie on your desk that doesn't do anything and always falls over?"

"Even that..." Your heart fluttered, your body cuddling with his to receive more of his warmth.

"Okay..." You responded, smiling against him. "You can tell Kaveh to stop keeping my gifts hostage..."

...

"There's somethings missing..." Alhaitham gave Kaveh a pointed look, making his blond roommate scoff.

"Well, everything I took I brought back here! If you lost a few things then that's you're fault!" Kaveh has always been a big fan of your crafts, and Alhaitham has a gut feeling that he liked a few things that he took.

The gray haired scholar merely raised a brow, making Kaveh sigh dramatically.

"Fine! But I'm keeping the plushie!" He left before Alhaitham could argue with him, leaving him only to sigh.

Your giggle occupied the room for a bit. "I'll tell him I can make one for him."

"Alright, but I'll appreciate if his isn't as cute as mine. Thanks." He said, and though you know he's joking, he still had that stoic face that makes you laugh when he says those unserious things.

"I'll keep that in mind."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

This is like almost 20k words, so I really hope that you guys liked it :D

It's been a while, (as always with my writing, but it's summer, so apart from work, I've been pretty free to write, which makes me really happy) enjoy!

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