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#and there are feelings and hurt/comfort too
day-dreamed · 2 days
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spencer reid x reader
spencer forgets his lunch at home, so you decide to bring it to him. what’s the worst that could happen?
cw: fem!non-bau!reader, roommate!spencer, angst, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mutual pining
note: this is the longest thing i’ve written on this blog 😭 little nervous abt posting it ngl but i hope you guys like it 💓
You’re puttering around in the kitchen when you notice it on the counter. Spencer’s lunch, a sticky note with his name taped to the front. Immediately you grab your phone to shoot him a text, saying that you’ll bring it to the office for him. It’s your day off, so it’s not like you have any other plans.
The drive there doesn’t take too long. You hit some traffic, but it ends up moving quickly, which you’re grateful for. When you arrive at headquarters, the process of getting in is easy. Spencer had given them your information, like your ID and your car’s license plate, so you’re in their databases. You’re not sure how you feel about that, but since it makes things easier, you let it slide.
Once you’re in the building, it doesn’t take too long for you to get lost. The place is huge, a maze of long hallways that seem to lead everywhere and nowhere all at once. You’re about to panic when you spot a directory sign that has the Behavioral Analysis Unit listed, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you make your way towards it.
When you walk into the bullpen, you freeze, your eyes flickering about the room for any sign of your roommate.
“Can I help you?”
You jump and turn towards the source of the voice, face growing warm. “Um, hi! You must be Mr. Hotchner, right? I just—I’m looking for Spencer, is—is he here?” you stutter out. “He… he forgot his lunch,” you hold it up lamely, giving the man you’ve heard so much about a sheepish smile.
He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, you spot Spencer coming up behind him. A close lipped smile adorns his face as he sidesteps his boss to get to you.
“Hi. What—what are you doing here?” he asks. His gaze travels from your face to the lunch bag gripped in your hands, and his mouth parts slightly. “Oh. You brought my lunch for me?”
“Mhm,” you nod, holding it out to him.
When he takes it from you, his fingers graze yours for a moment, making your heart flip. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you seem to remember that Spencer’s boss is standing about a foot away. Your roommate jumps and turns to him with a sheepish smile.
“Oh, Hotch, um, this is—this is my roommate,” he says, his face turning red.
“It’s great to meet you, sir,” you say, holding out your hand.
The man reaches out to take it with a small smile on his face, his handshake firm but gentle. “Please, call me Hotch. We’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally be able to put a face to the name.”
You stare at him. “What do you mean?” you ask, your heart doing somersaults as you glance sideways at Spencer, who’s got a panicked look on his face.
“Reid is always—”
“Hey! Um, I could give you a tour, if you want?” Spencer blurts out. “You know, since it’s your first time here.”
Your face burns. “Sure,” you say, clearing your throat. “It was great to meet you again, sir.”
Spencer is grabbing your hand before Hotch can respond, and you stumble after him as he pulls you away. You don’t get very far, though, before a woman appears in front of you, all bright colors and smiles.
“Oh my god! You must be Reid’s roommate,” she exclaims, immediately reaching forward to wrap her arms around you. “I’m Penelope Garcia, the BAU’s amazingly wonderful tech analyst.” When she pulls back, she rests her hands on your shoulders. “Wow. Spencer always talks about how pretty you are, you know. And he’s right.”
“Garcia!” you hear Spencer groan, but it sounds far away.
“He does?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, suddenly feeling like the air has been stolen from your lungs.
A man appears from seemingly nowhere next to Penelope, his smile wide and bright as his eyes flicker between you and Spencer. “You’re pretty boy’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”
Penelope slaps him on the shoulder. “Derek! You can’t just ask that.”
“Why not?” he frowns at her. “I’m only joking.”
You gape at him, your brain scrambling as you try to find the right words to respond. Spencer comes to the rescue, thankfully.
“You guys, she—she’s just my roommate!”
“Okay, man, whatever you say,” Derek grins.
“Hey, don’t listen to him. He’s just being a jerk, okay?” Spencer says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
But you don’t hear him, still too busy thinking about the word Derek had said earlier. Girlfriend. Your heart pounds in your chest, breath caught in your throat.
“Sorry, I—excuse me,” you mutter. “I—I have to go to the bathroom.”
You avoid looking at their faces as you turn and flee, nearly running until you manage to find your way to the restrooms. The door slams behind you once you’re inside, and you cover your face with your hands, attempting to take a deep breath.
Everything that’s happened since you got to headquarters replays in your mind. Hotch saying that Spencer always talks about you. Penelope telling you that he’s always saying how…pretty you are. And then Derek, calling you Spencer’s girlfriend.
It’s all too much. Too overwhelming.
You’re so in your head that you don’t hear a knock at the door, followed by Spencer’s voice calling out your name. “Are you okay? Can I come in?”
“I’m fine,” you call out, but the crack in your voice says otherwise.
“I’m coming in.”
“Spence—”
Your protest is cut off as the door opens. A frown curves his lips when his eyes land on you. “What’s wrong?”
You just shake your head and let out a teary laugh, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing, Spence. It’s stupid really. I think—I’m just gonna go.”
“But—”
“I said I’m fine, Spencer.”
That shuts him up. You don’t usually use his full name, so when you do he knows not to push any further. “Oh. I… okay. Will you be okay getting back?” he asks softly.
“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding.
“Text me when you get home? Just so I know you made it safe.”
For some reason, his request makes your stomach twist and a lump form in your throat.
“Yeah. I will,” you breathe out, desperately hoping that he didn’t hear the way your voice trembled.
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rxmye · 1 day
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" 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 "
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𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍!𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 — he let his dove soar a little too high for comfort, and now they pay the price . .
nsfw(?) / sixteen + content / gender neutral reader / dead dove do not eat / yandere content / age gap (Soleus is reader's caregiver since they were young, reader is currently an adult) / possessive yandere / body mutilation / caregiver x reader / huge size difference (like his wings are already like 2-3x yours, let that sink in) / manipulation . . . you've been warned.
masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: read the warnings, half completed his intro but I might redo it . . dead dove do not eat, he will only get worse from here !!!
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It was cruel, he knew it was cruel . . His fingers touch your featherless wings, now only bone and flesh, he reached out plucking a stray feather off, as he watches you wince in pain . . He hopes that you know, that he didn't intend to do this . .
He loved watching you fly, his little dove . . watching you soar up in the perfect blue sky, that smile that had him enamored . . He loved watching you, he let you be free. You were an uncaged bird, a perfect angel.
Everything about you was perfect, after all, he raised you to be perfect.
He lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes trailing over you, as you cling to him—a voice in the back of your head screamed at you for doing so, yet he was warm, comforting, despite his actions . . he was all you knew, you deserved this and he'd never hurt you without reason . . he surely wouldn't . .—sobs left your throat—he couldn't tell if it was of pain or the feeling of loss—his wings wrapping around you protectively, trapping you in a cocoon, a sweet embrace.
He wrapped his large arms around you, his hand reaching to rub small comforting circles on the small of your back, a chorus of "i'm sorry" 's left your mouth, a plethora of pleas for forgiveness leaving your lips in harmony.
He gently lifts your chin, watching as the wingless bones of your wings twitch nervously at his actions—he didn't pick the act apart though—instead he shushed you, his voice soft, nurturing as he spoke, "shh . . my lovely dove, it'll be fine, we'll work this through together . . ", his voice numbed the pain, the agony, the feeling of loss, he caused you for a brief moment, and you listened . . your words melting in your throat.
"It's okay . . I'm sorry, you know I'd never hurt you without a reason right?", his words laced with honey, as he plucked the last feather from what's left of your wings, this time, you didn't feel the pain, only a etching feeling of numbness . . as a burning sensation grew in the lower pit of your stomach, any thoughts of protest, bargaining, or running away melting upon hearing his honeyed tone.
"We'll get through this together, my dear . . You made a mistake, mistakes can be corrected, just as flaws can be fixed . . Right?", he asks, and you mumble out a soft 'yes' almost instantly, as he presses your head to his chest, you could feel the soft thumps of his heartbeat, as he kissed your forehead, "Sleep now my dove, we'll fix everything in the morning, like we've always done . . "
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@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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miharuki · 3 days
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𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒) 2
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You woke up with a headache, feeling your head throb painfully. For a moment, you really thought you were in your real-life home until you looked up and saw the bed canopy, adorned with fine, luxurious fabrics. A typical bed of ancient nobility, you couldn't even sit up without your head pounding from the pain. Who would have thought that crying so much could make you feel this bad?
In pain, you turned, now looking out of the bed. For a moment, you began to notice that the furnishings in the room were more refined, even though they were of a different color. You started to think that this room wasn't, in fact, yours. Looking at the door, you noticed the luxurious details that accompanied it, making you realize that you were neither in your real-life bedroom nor in your noble bedroom in this world.
You started to think a lot, which made your head hurt even more. But you finally managed to understand what happened last night and how you agreed to go with the young man. Now, finally turning to look at the ceiling, you sighed, knowing you were probably not in extreme danger and that being kidnapped was off the list since you had agreed to the situation.
Placing your hands on your face, you thought about the situation at the ball, now considering how your family in this world would probably disown you. What initially seemed like a simple matter turned out to be much worse. In this world, being disowned didn't just mean being removed from the family's inheritance; it meant being officially regarded as not part of the family at all. It was as if they erased you not only from their will but also from their lives. In more extreme cases, it could even mean being expelled from the house.
"Are you alright? You were quite warm last night; you had a fever," said a familiar voice. Turning, you confirmed it was the same young man from yesterday.
Forcing your aching body, you managed to sit up in bed, placing a hand on your forehead as the dizziness from the headache set in. "Yes, it's nothing serious. I apologize for my manners," you said. It was evident that simply lying in a bed that wasn't yours while the host stood by was considered almost impolite in this world.
"Liar… please, miss, don't push yourself too hard. You still seem unwell," the young man said, his voice calm and concerned. If you could look now, you would see the care and worry in his eyes.
"I've been sick many times before," you found yourself thinking, almost mocking your own situation. The boy seemed to sense your sadness and silence. He raised his hand and gently placed it on your shoulder.
He had already felt he was violating your space by touching you the night before, but the pain of seeing your sick body had pushed that feeling aside. Now, with you safe, he felt he needed your permission, but he couldn't help trying to comfort you, the same person who seemed broken and exhausted when he brought you here.
"Forgive me… you went to the trouble of bringing me to your home because of my actions. This is not appropriate behavior for a girl like me. I apologize profusely for invading your residence like this," you said, lowering your hands to your lap and bowing your head in a formal gesture of apology, even while lying in bed.
Nomura noticed that you referred to yourself merely as a girl, not as a lady, which would have been more appropriate. He understood that what happened yesterday had deeply wounded you, so much so that you began to see yourself as inferior, no longer worthy of being called a lady.
His free hand clenched into a fist as he thought about the castle and the ball from last night. He knew who was responsible for this, and he couldn't help but feel anger. At that moment, all he wanted was to drive a sword through the heart of the crown prince, the first prince, and especially his former best friend.
"Please do not apologize, miss. The events of last night were not your fault, and bringing you to my residence was my decision. I had every right to do so, especially when I saw you in such a vulnerable state," he said in a sweet and gentle tone. You turned your head to look at him, observing those kind eyes that looked at you as they had last night. But just making that movement caused your head to throb again, and you placed a hand on your head, wincing in pain. This made him place his hands on your back, gently guiding you to lie down on the bed.
"Please, miss, you are not in the best condition. Lie down and rest. I will accept nothing but your rest," he insisted. With your eyes squeezed shut from the pain, you allowed yourself to lie back down, sighing as you felt his touch slowly fade away.
Nomura watched as you complied, stepping back slowly. He looked at you with sadness before leaving the room. As he walked down the corridor towards his office, he couldn't help but look at the floor, feeling nothing but anger. Calmly, he entered his office and closed the door behind him. His teeth clenched in fury, and only one thought filled his mind: "I want to kill him!" Finally, he sighed, running his hands through his hair before sitting in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.
"Even after countless times, or timelines, you remain the same Prince Luka."
"Miss? Your tea." An maid entered the room with a cart carrying a teapot and a white porcelain cup. She sat down on the bed, and you were beginning to feel a bit better. Before you could say anything, the maid delicately placed a tray on your lap and set the cup on it.
You pondered for a moment. You couldn't stay here forever, even if your parents had disowned you. Eventually, you would have to return home just to gather your belongings, assuming your country in this game had indeed expelled you. If so, you needed to plan where to stay, especially since the Diamond Wars were looming.
"But what stage of the game are we in now? I mean, why should I worry? She's the protagonist and a princess, not me. She can handle things on her own," you thought to yourself as you glanced down at your lap. Your head still ached, but it was less intense compared to when you first arrived at the lord's house.
"Miss?" the maid's voice called out, and you lifted your head to look at her. She was pointing to the cup of tea. "Your tea, if you don't drink it, it will get cold." You turned your head, picked up the cup, and murmured a thank you before taking a sip. Lowering the cup, you continued to stare down, then glanced back at your lap.
"If I may ask, do you know of a good area where there might be houses? Preferably in the countryside," you asked calmly, surprising the maid with the sudden question.
"With all due respect, ma'am, why do you ask?"
"I need to find a place before I'm kicked out of home all because the protagonist is a little princess with her harem on her side, not to mention they humiliated me and literally labeled me a liar in front of high-status people and people from other regions," you thought of saying, but bit your tongue and shook your head. "Forget about what I asked," you said, looking down at the empty cup in your hands.
A few minutes of silence passed before the maid carefully took the cup and bowed respectfully before leaving with the cart.
"It's what she said," the maid recounted the situation to the man in front of her, who could only look thoughtfully out the window. "Poor Lady," Nomura thought, watching from the window as the carriage took you back to your home.
"I apologize, my lord, but do you think Lady might be considering moving away?" The thought of you being away from him was making him nervous.
"I need you to deliver a letter for me…"
pt1
"I'll possibly do Part 3."
@aiimee9 @chlov @uhkaey @notleclerc @taylorazureeee @sassykitkat22 @zuumaa @mononlogue @party-9 @endaculi @heartless-tate @mel-vaz @poptrim @kitty-chan33 @surprisemodafakas @reni502 @slowlysweetnightmare @hotnbloodied @yandereoverlord @mel-star636 @aphrodit333 @hotvinimon  @cupidsgift @bien-bonjour14 @l0v3rrl @heraxochi @yamekocatt @lovorette @acenby-weirdo @kisalovesoobin @wutap @ron000 @lazydelusionsimp @kthehoeforfictionalmen @forbidden-sunlight @bubbles2416 @rosegracewood09 @b2mmyy
@julietdelamare @snowlotr @kitkatmochi @happydeertraveler @lem-hhn @crazytacokoala @mitzukichan18 @hey-im-bored504 @resident-cryptid @thefbiiswatching @beardedblizzardexpert @mymemd @smilefortae @emperatris-rinaka
@pinkrose1422
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reidsdimples · 2 days
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Feverish
Spencer Reid x Reader
18+ ❤️‍🔥
Spencer can’t keep his hands off of you in his fever induced delirium.
Inspired by a scene from The Tearsmith (on Netflix)
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“What happened?” You ask Morgan who’s got Spencer’s arm draped over his shoulder.
Spencer is out of it, delirious, coated in sweat. Yet he grins at you.
“Popped for the flu, probably from those kids earlier this week,” Morgan answers as he puts Spencer in the passenger seat of your car.
“I knew the flu shot was a waste of time,” Spencer muses. “It’s an educated guess at best as for what strain will circulate through the population,” he scoffs and shoves on sunglasses.
“Wonderful,” you groan.
“You’ve already been sick this season, you’re probably fine,” Spencer mumbles and lulls his head back in the seat.
“I think that’s why he said to call you,” Morgan smiles.
“Well, it’s great to see you again. Stay safe,” Morgan hugs you by way of farewell.
Taking care of your sick ex boyfriend on your long anticipated three day weekend was not high on your bucket list. But here you were.
You drop into the car next to him and he’s already fast asleep. Feeling his forehead, you confirm that he’s burning up.
You and Spencer had ended things amicably four weeks ago. Your crazy schedule as a labor and delivery nurse didn’t mesh well with his chaotic FBI job. It didn’t mean you didn’t care for him. Perhaps that made seeing him so sick that much harder.
“Come on,” you help him from the car and into your house.
He stumbles up the front steps but you’re able to hold him up.
“Sorry, dizzy,” he murmurs.
“It’s okay,” you place your hand at the center of his chest, pushing yourself under his arm further to support his tall frame. The heat coming off of him could almost burn you.
You had never been more grateful that you opted for a one floor house. You imagined getting him up a flight of stairs would be impossible.
“Here,” you sit him on the edge of your king sized bed but he just flops onto his side, tucking his face into your pillow. He breaths in deeply, you can hear how congested he is.
You hurry to your medicine cabinet to get him a concoction of fever reducers.
“Take this,” you sit him up.
He barely opens his eyes, just groggily obeys and trusts the pills you’re giving him. He knows you’d never do anything to hurt him.
You wipe the water from his lips gently. He purses his mouth as though to kiss the pad of your thumb longingly.
You slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, you needed to cool him down. He’s drenched in sweat.
“Sit up,” you pull him up with a hand on the back of his neck and push the shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes trace his body longingly, but only for a moment.
You gently lay him back down and start undoing his converse so he can get more comfortable. He groans at the movements as you tug the shoes off and discard them, adoring his mismatched socks.
You brush his hair from his forehead and prompt him to open his eyes. He does but they’re heavy with fatigue.
“You’re going to be fine Spence, just tell me if you need anything,” you whisper.
You gently caress his cheek, his eyes fluttering closed. You relax your hand in the center of his bare chest, unable to help how drawn to him you are. You missed him. His lean body with the thin sheen of sweat had your heart fluttering. Touching him was too much, too overwhelming. You sigh and stand from the bed.
His arm wraps around your waist and he tugs you weakly back into the bed. You fall half onto him and half next to him.
“Don’t go,” he murmurs and buries his face in your stomach like you’re all he’ll ever need. You run your hands through his long hair and hold him close to comfort him. It doesn’t even bother you that his hair is damp, you just want to help him.
He pulls you more onto him and twists his hands into your shirt. You’re nearly straddling him now, leaning over him as he groans and begs for you to be closer.
“Spence,” you warn.
He nudges his face into your abdomen, between your breasts. He’s so out of it you doubt he’s even aware of his actions. His mouth clamps over your nipple which is hardening through your shirt. This is so wrong, but it feels so fucking good.
Your body reacts to him, your hips grinding down against his. You can’t help it.
Your tank top rides up and his mouth trails sloppily against your now exposed skin, causing you to suck air through your teeth harshly. He’s kind of kissing you, but more seemingly needing to touch you with his mouth. He leaves moist trails of kisses against your stomach. He grapples at your body, he’s needy, he’s panting. He’s whimpering against you.
He’s burning up.
“Shhh, Spence,” you sink down next to him and nestle into the crook of his arm.
You push away your arousal. That was not happening right now.
Besides, clear headed Spencer wouldn’t touch you that way after breaking up.
“Need you,” he moans.
“Not right now baby,” the nickname slips out. It was habit.
His buries his face in the crook of your neck, he’s breathing hard as his hand trails down your body. He digs his nails into the soft skin on your hips and squeezes lovingly. His fingertips move down the plane of your stomach and graze just under the edge of your waistband but he goes no further. You take in the sight of his large hand on your body again, those fingers, the way the muscles and veins move as he does. Your traitorous pussy clenches around absolutely nothing. Ugh.
He begins to kiss the soft spot of your neck and you can’t help but to tilt your head to give him better access. His hand moves up to squeeze your breast, pulling a moan from you. God you needed him so bad. But he was so sick. His desperation for you was driving you mad.
You hear him shudder as a chill washes over him. But he ignores it, moving so his laying on you, kissing your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. His eyes are still closed, heavy with sickness. But he slides his strong arms under you to hold you even closer to him as he continues to kiss and sucking at your neck. He nudges your tank top down and pulls your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
“Ah, Spencer. Baby,” you writhe beneath him, but he’s got you pinned.
He kisses you until he can’t anymore, until his grip on you grows weaker and his mouth lingers on you longer.
He grows tired and rests his head on your chest. He keeps you beneath him, most of his body weight laying between your legs. His head rests on your stomach as he starts to doze off. His warm breath fans against your skin.
You push your hand into his hair to keep him right where he is. He’s absorbing your body heat, his breathing beginning to slow.
A content sigh escapes his chest and he finally falls asleep.
You can still feel the ghosts of his hands and lips, messy and needy on your body. It’s like he was devouring you, like you were the only thing that could save him. He was absolutely out of his mind, acting on instinct and primal need despite being sick. It’s like he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself from touching you.
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jjkilll · 2 days
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—---✫ ROS | JJK ✫---—
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— pairing | CEO jk x Y/n
— summary | Jungkook is obsessed with you in every way possible and would take the moon and the stars out of the sky and gift them to you if he could.
— warning | smut, fluff, mentions of rough sex, hair pulling, jk proposes to y/n, unprotected sex (please use condoms i'm begging), creampie, oral (m receiving), idk some cute shit I was thinking of.
— word count | 1.8K
— song | ROS - Mac Miller
Jungkook met you when you came in to interview as his secretary. Ever since then, he's craved you. He knew he had to have you. So, he asked you on dates, which at first you declined. You tried the workplace romance thing and dating your boss didn't seem like the smartest idea. But after he asked the fifth time, you figured why not? Hot rich boss buying you food? Deal. He charmed you, he was funny and smart. He talked so dearly of his mother and he really made you fall for him. What you didn't know is that he fell harder. Your smile that night is burned into his brain. Your giggle made it easier to breathe. You smelled of flowers and fresh air, your voice was soft like honey and you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on.
After a few months of dating, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You of course said yes. He made it his top priority to find out everything you've ever loved or hated. He watched and listened being the most caring boyfriend in the world. Anything you wanted he'd find a way to get it. Anything you'd touch in the store he'd take a picture of and surprise you with something special every other night. He made you feel like a princess. "My love" he'd call you. He was always so gentle with you.
Except when he was fucking you. He didn't have an aggressive personality, but he loved fucking you until you couldn't take it. Jungkook was hands down the best dick you ever had. He had a huge dick and knew how to use it. He'd never seriously hurt or make you do something you couldn't handle. You and your safety were always his top priority. After a rough round, he'd kiss your face and ask "Was I too rough my love, I'm sorry if I was, I will be more gentle." He had never hurt you and you loved it when he fucked you like you were a little ragdoll, but you loved that he always considered you. Jungkook never came first. NEVER. You were always the first to come, and he made sure of it. You were sure if Jungkook looked at you and told you to come you could. He knew you just that well.
Jungkook was never the type to get nervous around you. You always made him feel comfortable enough to be himself. So why was he shaking right now? Oh, he was gripping a small ring box in his hand and was praying you'd say yes to marrying him. He didn't really think you'd say no, but maybe you saw someone hotter than him yesterday and wanted to leave him. You didn't and you don't, but what if you did? He stood behind you with his hand in his pants pocket gripping that box like it was your ass while you rode him.
You were in the Louvre, one of your favorite places to be in the world. He rented it out, which cost a shit ton of money but no amount of money would be worth your reaction, well at least he hoped.
Your back faced him are you admired the piece you loved so much. Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, reminded you of you and Jungkook. Your love always felt fresh and new, it felt soft and sweet, and it was something you knew you wanted to feel forever. So when you turned to face him and he knelt before you with a ring in his shaking hands you felt like the world stopped spinning and you two were the only people on earth.
"Please..." He started. Suddenly the long speech he had talked himself through slipped his mind. All he knew was that the girl he wanted forever stood before him and he wanted more than anything for you to say yes.
"I knew the moment I met you that I wanted to marry you. I never shut up about you. I could write so many books about you and our love because our story is one that is so beautiful that it has to be shared. I'd rather die than not be with you because loving you is like breathing air. I need you and more than anything, I want you Y/n. Will you marry me?" He said everything his heart felt, it was like his heart spoke for him.
You dropped to your knees in front of him. Your eyes brimmed with tears and you began to sob. He was quick to grab and hold you as you cried. "Are you okay my love?" All you could do was nod. You look at him and he smiled, he couldn't help it. "What did I do in my past life to deserve someone like you?" you sniffled and all he could do was pout, "If I could take the moon and all the stars in the sky and give it to you, I would," Jungkook responded. You kissed him softly but deeply. "I would marry you a million times over." You say kissing him again. He felt like his heart was doing jumping jacks. You said yes, those three letters sounded like the sweetest coming from your lips. He pecked your lips one last time before showing you the ring. Holy shit it was beautiful, you couldn't even imagine what it could be worth. He slipped in on your finger and you held your hand up to watch it sparkle. "Pretty right? It's custom. I had some jewelers in France make it for me, well for you." He smiled watching you.
"I'm going to give you the best head of your life," you say so suddenly. Jungkook laughs at your statement his eyes never leaving you. He stood and reached for your hand to help you up. You took his hand and stood. You kissed him again. "Thank you Jungkook," you said. "Anything for you my love." He spoke softly.
"Anything?" You look up at him. He nods surely. "Absolutely anything." You smiled. "Okay, then can we go home?" You ask. "Are you sure you don't want to look more? It's just us here." You looked at him with your fuck me eyes. "No, because what I really want to do is have you fuck me until I can't stand." You whisper lowly to him. He stiffened, "Let's go," He said simply grabbing your hand and nearly started running out with you.
It was something about the sex you and Jungkook have. It was like you were made for each other. So when his girl wanted to fuck, he was going to dick you down like he had to start a journey of celibacy the next day. Whatever you say goes.
✫ -----------------------✫
You arrived at the vacation home Jungkook surprised you with a month prior. Sloppily you shuffle through the door shedding each other of your clothes. Making out passionately you back him up the wall in your foyer. His eyes are dark and hungry. He needed you so desperately. You suck his neck while your hands undo his pants. His hand grabs at your waist. You stroke him over his clothed cock. He groans kissing your lips again. You break the kiss, "Let me suck your cock, please." You say it almost begging him. He nods quickly and surely. You grab his hand and drag him onto the couch.
He sits and you kneel before him. He watched your every move. You shuffle his pants and boxers down to his ankles, watching his cock spring free. You bite your bottom lip which turns him on to no extent. You pump him a few times before making eye contact with him and you put him in your mouth. His breath hitches and he groans as you bob your head your hand resting on his pelvis he glances at the ring and then back to your eyes. You're driving him crazy you take your mouth off him, still looking at him you collect the spit in your mouth and let it slowly drip on the tip of his cock. You are the hottest sight he's ever seen. You stroke him again before taking all of him in your mouth. "Fuck baby, just like that." He tosses his head back uncontrollably. He quickly sits his head up and he can feel the tip of his cock touch the back of your throat, he grabs a handful of your hair pulling it gently. You moan on his cock and it sends him into a spiral. "Fuck stop I'm going to come." He says breathily. "Come in my mouth," you say simply.
"My love you know you always come first," he moans struggling through his words as you stroke him. "This one time? Please? I thought you'd give me anything I want." You pout. He smirks at your cheekiness, using his own words against him. He nods for you to continue. You smile putting him back into your mouth. You suck him a little more and you hear his breath quicken. "Fuck I'm coming baby, fuck fuck" He moans before he empties his load into your mouth. You keep your lips wrapped around his tip making sure you get every last drop. You open your mouth to show him his mess. You look him in the eyes as you swallow.
"God, you are so fucking hot," he says with a chuckle. "Take your panties off and get up here." He demands. You stand take off your panties discard them and straddle him. He strokes your pussy with his index and middle fingers. "Sucking me off got you this wet, Jesus?" You smile kissing him once. He lined up his cock with your entrance and slowly you sat on his cock. You moaned as he stretched you out. You never really got used to his cock, he was so thick and long it drove you crazy every time. He grabbed your ass, slapping your left cheek before gripping it once more. "Shit, baby." You moan. "Fuck me, baby," You say softly. He grabs the underside of your ass and helps you bounce on his cock. He is losing his mind in you. He slides down a bit so he could fuck you a little deeper. Good call on his part because as soon as he starts fucking into you he hits that spot that drives to you nuts. You moan as he fucks into at the same pace, "Fuck there, Kook, right there!" you scream out. "God, I'm coming." You shake as you come undone on him and he empties himself into you.
"Thank you...Thank you." you shutter coming down from your high. He smiles when he looks up at you. He kisses your nose lightly. "You okay my love? I wasn't too rough right?" you nod. "You were perfect baby" you say looking at him lovingly.
"My pretty fiancée coming on my cock, You're so perfect." you blush. "Come on baby, Let's get you cleaned up." He said sweetly. He got his dream girl and couldn't be happier. “I was thinking round 2 in the shower?” You suggest. “If you can handle it.” he teases. Him and his pretty fiancée had the brightest of futures ahead.
✫ -----------------------✫
a/n: just a lil something something hehe. thanks for reading if you made it this far. feed and request are appreciated!! mwah!!
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uzurakis · 19 hours
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hi :D can you do jjk boys doing like a tiktok prank and telling reader to shut up but they've a really bad day and either get mad/really sad? angst with or w/o comfort plz
CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR A SEC?!
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featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.
n. some comfort and some w/o comfort lol. thanks for the req babes, not breaking my angst writing stride. if you could understand why i wrote gojo like that, then you paid attention to s2. enjoy </3
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GOJO SATORU. you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, hoping to find some comfort in his presence; finding your boyfriend lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to the tv screen.
“satoru,” you said, voice tinged with fatigue. “i had a really bad day today. the higher ups are a fucking pain—“
“shut up, babe, i’m watching tv. see?” without looking away from the tv, gojo cut off your words.
you froze, the sting of his words hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at him in disbelief, feeling a mix of hurt and anger rising within you. “wow. thanks for that. really needed it today,” you said laced with passive aggression.
gojo finally turned his head to look at you, but it was too late. you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. you pivoted and exited the living room, displacing him in the process.
as you retreated to the bedroom, you could hear the faint sound of the tv continuing in the background. the reality of the situation settled in, and you felt the tears spill over, silently streaming down your face. you sank onto the bed, burying your face in your hands.
moments later, the sound of the tv stopped, and you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. it opened slowly, and gojo stepped inside, looking all confused and a tad concerned. “babe,” he said softly, “seriously, what’s going on?”
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “can’t you see i’m busy? can you shut up for a sec?”
you froze, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. your shoulders slumped further, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. “i don’t need this today. just leave me alone,” you muttered, turning on your heel and heading towards the door.
megumi’s head snapped up as he realized something was wrong. “wait, hold on,” he called out, but you didn’t stop. “hey, i was just joking. come on, talk to me.”
your pace quickened as you left the dorm room, but you remained silent. you needed to leave before you totally lost it because you could feel the tears starting to burn in your eyes. megumi's voice could be heard calling after you as you went down the corridor; growing more concerned with each attempt.
“please, wait!” he shouted, tone now filled with worry. “fuck, i didn’t mean it like that! it’s a tiktok prank, babe!”
you kept moving, the door closing behind you as you stepped outside into the crisp evening air. you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. the last thing you needed was more pain on top of an already unbearable day.
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ITADORI YUUJI. anger flared within you and your eyes widened. “why would you say that to me? what’s wrong with you?” you snapped, voice sharp as a knife.
yuuji’s gaze moved to look at you, and he immediately saw the pain in your eyes. his expression shifted from surprise to regret. “wait, wait, baby, i’m so sorry! it’s just a tiktok prank. i swear i didn’t mean it like that. please, forgive me.”
“a tiktok prank? do you think this is funny?”
he scrambled off the couch and came over to you, face earnest and pleading. “no, no, it’s not funny. i thought it would be harmless, but i can see now that it wasn’t the right time. i’m really sorry…”
“forgive me, please?”
you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. the sincerity in his voice and the worry in his eyes made it hard to stay mad at him. “yuuji, i’ve had a really bad day. the last thing i needed was for you to tell me to shut up.”
your boyfriend nodded vigorously, looking like a guilty puppy. “i know. i messed up big time. can we start over? we’ll order your favorite takeout and watch a movie? my treat!”
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GETO SUGURU. your frustration, already simmering beneath the surface, boiled over. “excuse me? you don’t get to talk to me like that, geto suguru. especially not today!”
“whoa, hey, calm down. it was just a tiktok prank. i didn’t mean it seriously.”
“and you think that’s funny?”
the guy stood up, hands raised in a placating gesture, trying to approach you cautiously. “okay, okay, i get it. not funny. i’m sorry. how about we forget about it and i make it up to you?”
you could see the genuine concern in his eyes, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet. “you really don’t understand how bad my day has been, do you? and you choose today to pull something like this?”
suguru sighed, taking a step closer to you. “i do understand. i’m sorry i made it worse. i was just trying to be playful. let me make it up to you.” he dropped his voice to a softer, flirtatious tone, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “you know i can’t stand it when you’re upset with me.”
“you damn flirt,” you huffed, trying to maintain your anger, but the familiar charm in his voice made it difficult. “you can’t just flirt your way out of everything, geto suguru. i’m still mad.”
he stepped closer, gently taking your hands in his. “maybe not, but i can try. let me make it up to you tonight. we can do whatever you want. i’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”
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@uzurakis
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reidrum · 1 day
Text
two millimeters | s.r
a/n: this was literally born bc i saw reid lying on the couch in the jet at the end of demons and thought ‘i would literally sit against that wall to watch over him on the way back’ so i wrote it
summary: spencer gets hurt and you’re not leaving his side
cw: season 9 finale spoilers for angels & demons, cm violence, hurt/comfort, unestablished relationship
wc: 0.6k
___________________________________________
two millimeters to the right, and it would’ve hit his carotid.
the sentence replays in your head like a cursed mantra, rendering your other senses useless. you couldn’t hear the doctor say you could see him now, or feel penny tug your arm towards the room. and you certainly couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw spencer reid in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and iv drips, with a big fucking gauze dressage on the side of his neck.
you knew your line of work was dangerous, being a federal agent who hunts down serial killers should be enough to prove that. but it never surprised you seeing the panic that overtook all of you when one of your own was hurt.
the pure terror you felt in this moment though, was something without parallel.
two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.
you’re not even sure how it happened. they were on the way to tell the preacher he was innocent, and instead he opens fire on federal agents? it was a cruel twist of fate, spencer doing what he could to protect his people and pushing blake out of the way but getting hit himself. it wasn’t anyone’s fault either, the preacher had military grade machine guns, and spencer would have done what he did for anyone. you made sure to tell blake that.
but your spencer was hurt. and all you wanted to do was take away his pain somehow, and toss it in a river to never be seen again.
two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.
“hey,” you hear a voice pull you out of your head. looking up you’re met with tired soft brown eyes lying down on the jet’s couch, “i’m okay, honey. please go sit on a chair.”
if spencer had all his strength he would lecture you on the dangers of not being properly restrained on an aircraft and the statistics of plane related injuries. but that was the problem, he didn’t have all his strength. and you were not going to let him out of your sight.
which is why you are sitting on the floor of the jet, perched in front of the couch where spencer laid, resting your head on the cushion his head was on, body leaning against couch’s frame. and you planned to stay right there until you landed back in quantico.
“looks like this flight is overbooked,” your section unit chief teased upon seeing you on the ground, “hopefully the brass sees our good work and gives us a bigger jet next year.”
morgan, hotch, even jj offered you their seats to at least get some rest, something you hadn’t had in days.
“i’m fine right here.” you spoke softly.
jj and penny looked at you in concern, but knew you wouldn’t be swayed to move anyway. your stubbornness always acted as a curse and a blessing.
spencer moved his hand to graze your cheek gently, “the doctors fixed me up really good, i promise i’m okay.”
you move your hand to rest on top of his, slowly rubbing your thumb into the curve of his palm, “and i promise i’m okay right here. i’m not moving.”
two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.
two millimeters would haunt you for many years to come, but maybe right now you could use it to measure how much closer you can get to spencer till there’s only two millimeters between you.
spencer knew this was a war he was not winning, and let his hand intertwine with yours. if you weren’t so close to him you might’ve missed the faintest “thank you” escape from his lips. the jet takes off and the two of you are lulled to sleep almost immediately. the rest of the team unspokenly watched over you both, making sure you weren’t rattling around or spencer rolling around too much. and penny couldn’t help but take a few pics to show you later.
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Text
— your wounds make me bleed.
synopsis. you, being the oh so powerful sorcerer you are, did not even realise the extent of your injuries until you found out that you couldn't stand without the support of something— after defeating the curse, of course. shoko's busy, so, satoru, being the gentleman he is (and also the strange source of comfort you have) decides to take matters in his own hands— while being a pain in the ass, obviously.
however, you joking about your death does not help— and satoru's carefree façade manages to slip, bringing back some memories he had tried to forget.
genres/themes. satoru gojo x reader, hurt/comfort, satoru and reader are highschool friends (frenemies ?), satoru and reader bicker a lot, satoru being a menace, reader is also a menace (lmaoo), mentions of blood (reader is injured), mentions of satoru's past, reader comforts satoru.
author's notes. i miss him so much that it physically hurts me. send help LMAOO—
word count. 1.8k
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“tsk. and here i thought that you could take care of yourself, at least,” the white-haired man tuts, and you feel yourself roll your eyes to the back of my head for god-knows-what time again— and that of course earns a smirk from him. “how disappointing. and ah, don’t roll your eyes so much. you might just have a view of your non-existent brain and pass out on me. jeez, i wouldn’t want you to dirty my couch.”
“how fascinating to hear that you care about something, satoru,” your voice feigns bewilderment— a simply amazed look in your eyes as you heave a blissful sigh. “at least you’re not as heartless as i thought. hang on there, expensive leather couch.”
“so you’re admitting you’d pass out, and the fact that you don’t have a brain,” satoru huffs out a laugh, finding amusement in the way you let out a small ‘tsk’ of annoyance.
something about satoru comforts you.
no, it isn’t the comfort that people idealise— no physical contact, no silly gifts or acts of service— it was his mere presence that soothed you, while irritating you at the same time. every word that flowed between you two was either a sugary sweet taunt or a blunt insult— yet, you two found solace in each other in a way that was beyond the comprehension of everyone around you.
including you two.
“if not having a brain will make me cope with your ass, then so be it,” a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you watch satoru wrap the bandage in a firm, yet gentle grip around your arm, relishing in the way his eye twitches and his usual shit-eating grin widens in annoyance.
“at least i didn’t get my ass handed back to me by a grade one curse,” the man lets out a scoff. “seriously, how do you even get this beaten-up?”
“hey, ’t wasn’t my fault i only noticed my blood after defeating it,” you say, shifting your position on that damn couch of his, as you felt a sudden urge to fidget with something, “at least it got exorcised.”
“sure,” satoru says, and you swear you could feel him rolling his eyes even through the confines of his blindfold, “very impressive. at least it got exorcised.”
hearing him say those— your— particular words in that mocking, sing-song voice makes an irritated scowl break out into your face, and oh how it makes satoru smile so smugly— making you want to curse the hell out of this menace of a sorcerer.
“you’re applying too much pressure, dumbass,” you mutter, trying not to wince as his fingers tightened the bandages which covered the skin of your hands.
satoru raises a brow, tightening them even more. “deal with it,” he deadpans. “ ’s your fault, ya know? if i keep it loose you’ll start to bleed. again. over my couch.”
the damned couch again.
honestly? you knew that he couldn’t give lesser shits about the furniture, and that he was just saying that to piss you off. and what was even more infuriating was that it was working.
really, years of experience with satoru gojo had changed nothing— and everything in your feelings towards him.
“get it over with the couch, will ya?” it’s your turn to let out an annoyed scoff, which undoubtedly makes the sorcerer let out a snicker of his own.
“sometimes i wonder how you even ended up becoming a sorcerer,” satoru wraps a band-aid around your scratched fingers, “thought you’d leave the job and become a farmer or somethin’, y’know.”
“unlike you, i had spent too much of an effort in the projects yaga gave us in highschool, so there’s no way i’d let it go in vain,” you shake your head, “it would be too embarrassing.”
besides, you’d rather die than see satoru’s laughing face if you ever decided to change your profession just because you weren’t able to handle a curse or two.
“you never change, do you?” satoru huffs out a laugh, and oh god if he didn’t wipe that agonizing smirk off his face within the next second, you’d gladly do the honours— if only you weren't in so much pain, though, “always so damn reckless. it’s a miracle you have me to tend to your wounds, or else just where you be?”
“dead, most probably,” you say with sarcasm dripping down your words, expecting a scoff of amusement in response— but it never came.
you tear your gaze away from the dried gash on your arm to meet satoru's piercing, piercing stare— it was really a wonder how that guy manages to make you feel his eyes bearing into the depths of your soul even though you couldn't quite actually see them because of the shield his blindfold created.
satoru feels a whirl of emotions in him— eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, and you just know that he is not, in fact, amused.
not even in the slightest.
his heart is racing— and if he had his blindfold off, you’d see how his usually bright, azure eyes had a darkened glint in them— something which just screamed out the fact that he was unsettled, uncontrolled— afraid.
as the tense seconds pass, he gives you a little glare, his expression hardening.
“. . that’s not funny,” he utters, before averting his gaze down to your arm. his efficient hands wrap the gauze around your limb almost in a mechanical movement— the little frown never leaving his face, lips pressed into a thin line.
oh.
your gaze softens, watching the sorcerer quietly tend to your wounds, noticing how his gaze lingers on a particularly deep gash on your leg— how his fingers tremble ever so slightly when his touch stays on the burn for a little too long— you notice it, of course you do.
he's thinking about suguru again.
there wasn't quite a time when he didn't— at least he didn’t show it to anyone. but you, you see him for who he is— the lonely man who’s just wanted some love, and not just the title of being ‘the strongest’— the man who still yearns for his best friend to come back, even though he's . . . gone.
you always see through him.
you should've considered your words before joking about something like that, really.
no matter how much of an annoying bastard satoru may be to you, but still, he was satoru to you. not 'the strongest', not the guy who always had that stupid smile plastered on his face at all times, not the guy whom the world saw as undefeatable— no, he was something much, much more.
you watch his tense demeanour threaten to consume him alive— how his hands shake no matter how much he tries to make them steady, how his shoulders go rigid when they were usually slumped carelessly, how his bottom lip quivers— it was just a tiny movement, yet you manage to see.
how could you not see earlier that you words would've affected him? god, you felt so stupid.
“ . . hey,” hearing the soft tone in your voice makes something inside satoru snap— raising his head to forcefully avert his gaze from your injuries to your face— heart beating so loud that he’s unsure whether you wouldn’t have noticed.
but then again, you were you, and satoru was, well . . . satoru.
his eyes widen— seeing you open your arms with that soft, apologetic smile— and before the sorcerer knows, he’s burying his nose into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around your injured frame; his lower body on the floor as he nuzzles into your arms on the couch.
most people would’ve hesitated, casted him a wary look of disbelief— the satoru gojo, reduced to a trembling mess just because someone joked about their death? the satoru gojo, who still blames himself for his best friend’s death? the satoru gojo, who’s known as ‘the strongest’— being vulnerable?
indeed, it is the satoru gojo, clinging onto you like a lifeline, large hands of his gripping you so tightly that he's afraid that you might disappear the moment his hold loosens.
your satoru.
arms wrapped around his neck as you shush him, bandaged fingers running through his snowy white strands whilst his shoulders shake— oh how you regretted saying that.
“ . . i hate it when you say stuff like that,” he mutters, and if you didn’t have a knack for noticing subtle things about it, you wouldn’t have seen a barely audible crack in his voice.
“ ’m sorry,” you say in a quiet, soothing tone, pulling away a bit to stare at his face, and god did your heart wrench— satoru's bottom lip was red from him biting on them so much.
gingerly, one of your hands unlatches itself from around his neck, going to gently slip under the hem of his blindfold — as you slowly pull it down, revealing those mystical eyes of his— so terrified that you feel the fear radiating off him.
he seems so, so vulnerable like this— a desperation and fright seizing his entire soul as he stares at you. you cup his cheeks, thumbs caressing his soft, warm skin.
“don’t . . . don’t joke about stuff like that,” he says in breathless, shaky whisper— eyebrows furrowing even more as his breath stutters, and from this moment on you swear to yourself to never say something like that again. not if it hurts satoru.
ever.
“i won’t,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his, “ ’m sorry, satoru.”
you pull his head down so he’s laying it on your chest, arms wrapped around his neck as you massage his scalp soothingly.
satoru’s shoulders relax, his heart easing a bit from hearing your gentle tone, panicked eyes fluttering close as he lets out a small, shaky sigh, burying his face into your chest— so desperate for comfort, for some kind of reassurance that you are okay, that you won’t leave, that you’ll . . .
stay.
you run your hands through his fluffy locks, gently easing the tension that had accumulated within him with simple movements of your fingertips— earning a soft, relaxed sigh from him.
“keep doing that,” you hear him mutter, and you let out a hum in response, continuing to massage his scalp. “don’t . . . don’t stop. please.”
this is how two you seeked comfort from each other.
something that was beyond words— something that was beyond everyone.
including you two.
as you two lay on the couch— two souls craving reassurances from the other— time ticks by, but oh do you care? not even a bit.
“don’t leave me,” satoru whispers, and you find yourself letting out a murmur of approval, caressing his hair. “i was so scared, i can’t lose you too, i—”
“i’ll stay, satoru.”
and so, you do. as long as you’re here with satoru, he has nothing to fear.
as long as you stay.
☆ @dontcarehowlongittakes on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works without my permission.
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So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!
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No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)
25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim
This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!
OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:
WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3
Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)
I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!
Below the cut:
I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)
On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)
Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)
I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)
I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)
Final thoughts, a.k.a. if you ask Dick to tell you about Tim, you will be there all day and he will never once mention any of the times he saved Tim's life because they will genuinely not occur to him
I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)
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1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)
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2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)
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3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)
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4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)
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5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)
On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)
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6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)
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7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)
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8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)
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9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)
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10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)
Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)
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11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)
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12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)
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13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)
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14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)
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15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)
I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)
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16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)
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17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)
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17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)
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18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)
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19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)
I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)
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20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)
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21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)
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22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)
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23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)
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24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)
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25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)
Final rambling thoughts:
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TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.
SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.
And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf
All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.
But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!
Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.
And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --
-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3
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#i enjoyed thinking about this so much i wrote a novel with All My Thoughts sorry sdfsdfs#tim drake#dick grayson#somewhat tangential but as i was writing this i was thinking about zahri's post#about how different types of stories offer different kinds of emotional payoffs#and i think for me for dick and tim the main two payoffs are:#1) someone who sees & understands your grief for deaths that will never get fixed or get better#and who will face your ghosts with you EVEN WHEN you're also mad at each other#2) someone who you look at and you see all the ways that you suck & he's better & you're a loser who's failed him etc etc#but it turns out that you're wrong. that you're good enough. not that none of the failures were real or that they were all in your head#but it turns out that it's okay that you didn't always immediately do or feel the right thing#and it's okay that you weren't perfect. you can fuck up six thousand ways & everything you did right will still matter#not because of making excuses or allowances or somebody pityingly trying to make you feel better#but because in the end the things you did right are just Genuinely More Valuable than anything you did wrong#all the times you tried & everything that you tried to give - everything you think wasn't good enough - it was.#IN OTHER WORDS they are both convinced they're not good enough & they are both wrong <3#anyway dick and tim are both INCREDIBLY SIMILAR and also CONSTANTLY misreading each other and i love that for them#and like. they will sometimes totally misread each other & then never figure out the part that they misunderstood#but then they manage to keep going anyway. we love each other on purpose <333#ask tag#dick&tim
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hannieehaee · 19 hours
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can u do how svt members act during their girlfriend's first time, please? sorry for my bad english
18+ / mdi
their first time with their virgin s/o
content: established relationship implied, smut, mentions of penetrative sex, reader is a virgin, mentions of losing virginity, etc.
wc: 724
a/n: such a cute concept omg i hope u like it!!!
masterlist
seungcheol -
goes crazy at the thought of being your first but holds back to prevent scaring you off. plans your first time to the t, wanting to make it as loving as humanly possible. sensual in the way he undresses you, kisses you, gets you ready and eventually makes love to you. would have to constantly muffle groans at the pleasure you so effortlessly gave him.
jeonghan -
coo's and praises you constantly. treats you like royalty, teasing you but also overwhelming you with his touches. drives you to the edge of losing your mind many times before taking it all away with a wicked laugh. super soft during it all, but still tortures you with pleasure you'd never felt before.
joshua -
the epitome of a gentleman. seduces you for days until you finally fall into his arms and beg for him to take your virginity. touches you in places you didn't know could bring pleasure until driving you into desperation. slow and attentive when it comes to actually making love to you.
jun -
so nervous aaahhh!!!! but he's an absolute gentleman and prioritizes you over everything so he pushes any nerves aside to make your first time as perfect as possible. has to hold back from cumming the moment he sees you naked for the first time, but manages to make the experience perfect for you.
soonyoung -
will try not to show it but he'd be soooo anxious to be your first time. sometimes his emotions get the best of him, so he'd be afraid that his lust would be too obvious. would still be super soft with you, becoming instantly infatuated with your naked form.
wonwoo -
would be so soft and attentive to you, never letting his hands stray away from you. kisses every inch of your body with murmured praise into your skin. your pleasure absolutely comes first, so he'd prolong his own to prioritize yours. goes at your pace and holds himself back to make you feel as comfortable and loved as possible.
jihoon -
visibly nervous and fidgety, but super sweet to you. stops every five seconds to ask for permission before making any move, then proceeding to ask you if you were okay or if it felt good. loses his mind the moment he feels you, but still holds back and remains a gentleman throughout.
seokmin -
so so so so thankful to be the one you decided to give your virginity to. literally worships you every second in which he holds you in his arms. anxious about it all but pushes it aside to prioritize your pleasure and comfort. literally the best person to take your virginity bc he takes it to heart and gives you his soul.
mingyu -
prepares the perfect night for you, cooking a romantic candlelit meal and grooming himself perfectly for seduction. guides you through it all and teaches you everything there is to know without judgment. provides you with the greatest pleasures possible, creating the most loving atmosphere for you.
minghao -
he's the perfect person to lose your virginity to lol he'd be so loving and such a gentleman throughout it all. whispers praise and compliments into your ears and marks your body with love bites. draws out the experience for hours by making you cum with every other mean possible before actually taking your virginity.
seungkwan -
super nervous about it!!! does not want to risk disappointing you or somehow hurting you so he's just a nervous wreck. in the end, he lets himself relax by communicating with you during it all, wanting nothing more than to provide you with a loving and memorable experience. would maybe make some jokes during it whilst also worshiping you.
vernon -
is mostly casual about it, but is still slightly nervous to be the one to take your virginity. would be super nice and go at your pace, dropping a few jokes to make you feel comfortable and at ease. immediately entranced by how pretty you are and driven by the lust you cause him.
chan -
super cheesy about it all. plans a day with you in which you'd do it and creates the perfect ambience with rose petals, wine and candles. makes love to the entirety of your body with his lips before finally fucking you. the type to cuddle and hold you the entirety of the night.
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eriscary · 2 days
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Reference sheet of Tear who finally made their appearance in Passing Ghost. I have been waiting to post them, wanting to have that sweet reveal in the comic before it. I am withholding some info due to spoilers or because I want it to be known after the comic is done, which shouldn't take long prolly. Here we go… __________________
Biography: Tear!Sans is a puppet body possessed by a Napstablook whose greatest wish was to become Sans and see the multiverse. He created his body from mix and matching puppets made by Error!Sans. This [REDACTED]
Appearance: Because Tear’s body is a puppet, his bones are plush and have visible stitches. He wears white gloves to hide stitches, but his forehead has the most obvious line of them. He also wears Napstablook shaped headphones and a white coat with a purple hood. Its backside has a pattern of two tear drops forming an upside-down heart. Underneath it is a beige scarf, white shirt and black shorts.
Personality: Tear used to naively believe that everyone is good hearted and tried to be polite even in situations he shouldn’t. His AU got a lot of Sans variant visitors that he observed curiously from afar. Through observation he learns of the multiverse and wishes to experience it. Even wishing to become Sans himself, so he would feel important, loved and blend in more with the multiverse travelers. Finally achieving a feat of possessing a puppet body with a resemblance to Sans, gave him some momentary confidence. [REDACTED] finally understood not everyone is sunshine and rainbows. This made him more nervous of new people than he already is. He spends much of his time training to behave like Sans, failing at making good puns and stressing over not being lazy enough for Sans standards. He works too hard to be one, believing it would give him everything he wanted and [REDACTED]. After all, Sans surely blends into crowds with ease. They saw it with their own eyes. Tear also goes as far as using a great deal of effort into shaping his tears to be gaster blasters and bones. It hinders his speed, although even with this he is as fast as an original Sans, but fails at matching him in damage. Most of the time he feels like he isn’t good enough, both as his old self and Sans. The new life makes him believe it’s his responsibility to do everything Sans took care of too. He blames himself for everything. [REDACTED][ACCESS DENIED]. As a ghost, he felt very touch starved.
Abilities: - Tears: When Tear!Sans cries, his tears hurt anyone on contact. He can manipulate his tears and cry on command. They also leak out naturally. - Shaping tears: Tear!Sans often controls his tears to take a certain shape like his top hat, but usually gaster blasters and bones in hopes of mimicking Sans. Such objects cannot be held by anyone else, as they would take damage. Tear!Sans cannot replicate blue attacks. - Phasing: Tear!Sans can will his body to phase through things, just like when he was a ghost. His body gets more transparent or straight up invisible. Unlike his ghost self, this time it requires magic. When too emotionally overwhelmed, he will unintentionally phase. It will stress him more if it's a comforting touch he was about to receive but couldn't. - [REDACTED]
In battle: Tear's strength is on par with Classic Sans. He doesn't hit as hard, yet keeps up by attacking faster. But because he loses speed by shaping his attacks, he is overall weaker. His boss fight is also shorter because of him spending a lot of magic uncontrollably, before and during the fight. Unlike a Classic Sans or [REDACTED], Tear doesn’t remember SAVEs and RESETs. - [REDACTED] - [REDACTED]
Relationships: - [REDACTED]
Trivia: -Tear’s name has a double meaning. ‘To shed a tear’ and ‘tear something apart’. Different characters will say their name differently, depending on the personal opinion of them. - He is very soft to hug. - He is very light and his steps leave no sound. - His favorite food are Blueberries, or as he calls them, Boo Berries. - He occasionally calls the Player by a pet name “treasure”. - [REDACTED] - He gets excited at seeing any Sans or Papyrus, no matter how they look. - Used pronouns are He/They. - When terrified, Tear can unintentionally water blast the person through his eye sockets. - [REDACTED] __________________ Considering most AU sanses are stronger than Classic, Tear is prolly one of the weakest out there lol. He tries
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xenteaart · 3 days
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contemplating mediocrity
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pairing: idol!chan x reader (gn but written with f!reader in mind) word count: 0,9k genre/warnings: er, hurt to comfort, use of "baby", self-doubt, honestly not much else, pretty pg-13 author's note: heavily inspired by @withleeknow 's last seungmin fic, i couldn't handle the angst and needed to comfort myself fkdjfkdjfk. also it kinda made me reflect on why it hurt so bad so i guess this fic is a little support and comfort thingy for everyone who might not be feeling "enough". before reading you might wanna check out the inspo fic itself <3
“baby? what’s wrong?” 
ah, he’s always too quick to notice. 
you take your eyes off the laptop and put a video of 3racha’s festival performance on pause.
“nothing. you guys did a wonderful job, truly. ’m just… contemplating my mediocrity.”
“what?” he’s more just taken aback than anything else but you read it as irritation.
it’s one of those days when everything feels extra sensitive, even the things you can deal with well on a regular day.
“what? chris, baby, i’m not being self-deprecating, it’s just a fact. i truly could not be more proud of you, but sometimes i just can’t shake off the feeling of not doing enough compared to you. 
it warms my heart to know that you are so so loved and respected, it really does. but, i guess.. it’s a little humbling too? i haven’t achieved anything nearly as grand and i don’t have thousands of people cheering for me after i do as much as breathe. which you totally deserve, by the way, i’m not saying you don’t.”
long silence follows as chris frowns, carefully crafting his next response while you’re already starting to regret you opened your mouth at all. maybe, some things should be kept to yourself. maybe, it’s not really necessary to share every dark thought that comes to your pained mind after midnight. maybe, it’s safer for your relationship to just move those conversations to a cozy zoom meeting with your therapi—
“that’s a skewed perception of our dynamic though, baby.” 
oh, shit. he has the look. you know this one too well, and it says “i’m not letting this slide and we’re talking this through”. 
“how so?” you feel tired and discouraged already, mostly annoyed at yourself for making your boyfriend come up with some nonsense points to make you feel better now. 
“don’t put me on a pedestal. firstly, i think you’re forgetting how many people there actually are behind what we’re doing. daily. i’m talking all the staff and production teams, makeup, hair, clothes, art direction, schedule management. everything. there is literally a whole division for us that makes us look the way we look and helps us do what we love.”
you stay quiet, blinking slowly and pursing your lips together. 
“which isn’t to say we don’t work hard or that we haven’t achieved anything, but it wouldn’t have been possible without all that help. 
secondly, in my daily life i’m just a guy, baby. literally just a guy who loves music. nothing fancy,” chan gives you one of those wide soft smiles, and you hear your heart break a little. 
“yeah, well, not every guy who loves music has the amount of awards and recognition you do, baby.”
“okay, where is this truly going?”
there it goes.
“sometimes i worry i just can’t match it? that you’ll get bored of me because i’m not over the top extraordinary or... whatever.”
you feel stupid. 
“so you think i’m with you for your so-called achievements?”
you can’t come up with a response, so he continues, gently hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. his favorite way of making you feel loved. 
“i’m with you because you’re my sense of normalcy, baby. you calm my mind when it’s racing too fast. you’re my safe little harbour where i can find peace after hectic schedules and loud noises and crowds. you ease the weight i carry on my shoulders every day.” 
you stay silent, focusing on the feeling of his warm breath on your cheek. the tip of his nose is touching your skin lightly.
“you love the regular channie. you kiss my puffy swollen face in the mornings, and those kisses make me wonder if i’m actually not that bad without all the makeup on after all. you laugh at my jokes and cuddle me when i get needy. you listen to my darkest nastiest thoughts and never judge me for feeling whatever it is i’m feeling. 
what i’m getting at is that... i can just be me around you, you know? that’s why i’m still here. and i feel so proud to have a partner with a big warm heart and a strong mind, honored to be cared for by someone so neat and beautiful in the most mundane things.
do you really think i’d measure my love and respect for you by something like fame or... some noble achievements?”
“i don’t know,” you sound even more confused than at the beginning of this suddenly serious conversation, caught off guard by chan’s words, but mostly — his tenderness towards you. his patience and the way he's willing to spell it out for you if you're feeling too low to see the whole picture yourself.
"well, then i’m telling you. that is just not the case. you’re already everything i could ask for, baby. someone passionate, honest, reliable, loving and kind. someone who holds my hands through the hard days and makes me laugh on the good days. simple as that."
the pressure on your chest is slowly fading as chan's words finally sinking in, finding their ways into your system and rendering as the truth. the ache isn't completely gone but you know it will be in the morning, when the sunrise washes the rest of your worries away.
for now, you turn around in chris's embrace and hide your nose in the crook of his neck, simply breathing and enjoying the lingering scent of his soap. skin to skin.
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Text
Emily: “I’m really sorry Vaggie didn’t feel comfortable coming back here. If there’s anything I can do to change that-”
Charlie: “Probably not! It was kinda a sign of her endless love for me that she visited haven again at all!”
Emily: “Oh! Oh that’s nice!!”
Charlie: “Which I NEVER would have asked her to do anyway, if I’d KNOWN the truth about her history up here!”
Emily: “Right. I’m so sorry about that too, by the-”
Charlie: “I mean, I’m not the kind of girl who askes her girlfriend to go spend an afternoon sitting across from the people who ripped off her wings! And her eye! And left her slumped against a dumpster looking half dead!”
Emily: “A… dumpster?”
Charlie: “Making the woman you love relive all that without even rEALIZING it would be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it??”
Emily: “V- very.”
Charlie: “IT HYPOTHETICALLY COULD MAKE SOMEONE FEEL KINDA TERRIBLE AFTERWARDS, DON’T YOU THINK?”
Emily: “I’m sure it did!”
Charlie: “H Y P O T H E T I C A L L Y”
Emily: “Could! I could see that, yes, if it HAD happened, that would’ve been…”
Emily: “…”
Emily: “Are you- um, is she, errr.. doing better now?”
Charlie: “SO much better she’s doing SO great these days!!!!”
IN HELL
Vaggie: (lying face down on the hotel lobby floor) “I promise I won’t stop helping you morons when she dumps me. I won’t let her dream die just because I was dumb enough to think I could be part of it.”
Angel Dust: “That’s nice toots.”
Vaggie: “Thanks.”
Angel Dust: “Not sad or stupidly gay or anythin’.”
Vaggie: “Thanks.”
Cherri Bomb: “Sad? Angie, it’s perfect!” (takes picture) “I’ve been thinking this place could use a new rug…”
Niffty: (stepping on vaggie) “Squishy!”
Husk: “Get the fuck off her.” (at vaggie) “You, get the fuck UP.”
Vaggie: “Why.”
Alastor: “Hmmm, because this is PAINFULLY pathetic to watch, even for me?”
Vaggie: “Guess I’ll be here forever then.”
Angel Dust: “Vag-GAY c’mon, ya girlfirend’s not gonna dump ya. What’s the competition even!?”
Vaggie: “There’s an angel up in heaven who's helping Charlie work towards her life long dreams as we speak, and she's taller than me, got more wings than me, not as stabby as me, and also not a mass murderer or a liar or missing an eye.”
Cherri Bomb: "Hey!"
Vaggie: "No offence to the other one-eyed ladies here, but it's different when you've got a fucked up empty eye socket."
Niffty: (sighs dreamily) "I bet losing it hurt soooo baaaaad..."
Vaggie: "Never telling my girlfriend why I'd actually lost it or how it made me look like the deranged murder angel I was, even while she tried kissing it better for me, ended up hurting way worse."
Angel Dust: “That's a point….”
Angel Dust: “...alright, so Charlie’s PROBABLY not gonna dump ya-”
Niffty: “Oh that’s a weird sound!” (giggling) (bounces on vaggie) “I think she’s dying~”
Husk: “If you fucks kill her, I’m telling her demon princess girlfriend and pouring myself a drink to go with your fucking tormented howls.”
Vaggie: (muffled) “what if she’s my ex-girlfriend”
Husk: “…I’ll pour you a fucking drink and listen to your tormented howls.”
Niffty: “ME TOO I’LL LISTEN TOO!”
Alastor: “Dear one, perhaps if you were NOT standing on her skull and compressing her WRETCHED cries into the floor, we could be hearing them already.”
Niffty: “Whoops~ Heheheeh~”
Cherri Bomb: (recording it) “Damn, that groan’s been going on for ages… Bitch has some lung capacity on her.”
Angel Dust: “Point one for Vag-gay! Probs as good eating out as ya are at HOLDING out on ya girl!!!”
Vaggie: “uuuughhh…uaauuugghhaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaahhhhrrrgh..” (whimpers)
Niffty: “Okay.” (GIGGLES) “NOW she’s dying~” (bounces)
IN HEAVEN
Charlie: “Everything’s totally fine I have NO idea why you’d even ASK!”
Emily: “You’ve spent the entire time up here staring at pictures of Vaggie on your phone?”
Charlie: “I’m allowed to look at my girlfriend!”
Emily: “While crying and sniffling into your sleeve?”
Charlie: (sobbing) (desperately patting down her jacket) “SHE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS WHICH OF MY POCKETS HAS THE HANDKERCHIEF IN IT, OKAY??”
Emily: (smiling) “I think you two are going to be just fine.”
Charlie: (BLOWS NOSE LOUDLY INTO JACKET SLEEVE, which catches on FIRE)
Emily: “…..not your clothes, though. You might need a new set of those.”
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risuola · 2 days
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ENTRY #13 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // How much I appreciate you I only know when I lose you.
contents: arranged marriage!au, little post-argument scenario, just a hint of hurt and lots of comfort — wc. 974
a/n: experimenting continue, I like the slight change in writing and uhhh... will there be a second post to the series today because I can't wait any longer to post the nsfw part? yeah, probably. maybe tomorrow if I have enough self-restraint.
series masterlist
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When Satoru enters the bedroom, you’re already there. It’s late, nearly midnight, but you’re up, in the dim, yellow-ish lights of your nightstand lamp, you seem distant. With some papers spread and open, you’re on your side, your back facing the middle of the bed — facing him, and he sighs at the sound of silence, at the lack of your reaction to his presence. It’s in the moments like this when he appreciates the smiles you always offer him, the softness of your voice whenever you greet him, the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him. It’s true that one learns to value a thing the moment it’s gone.
So he puts down his glasses, careful to not make it too loud and he offers a “hey” as he’s sitting down on his side of the mattress. He studies your frame, the curve of your hip and waist, your tensed shoulders, the way one of your hands support your head as you read; the sound of pages rustling is the only thing that fills the room. He hears you exhaling a little deeper, a little longer and he knows you’re not going to wish him goodnight.
Satoru lets out a huff of air out of his lungs and decides to be stubborn. He knows it’s justified, the way you’re acting — that day began with a fight and he said a little too much, a little too loud, then left the house, left you. He hates the way he acted, it’s been a while since you last had an argument and it didn’t feel good. It haunted him all day, you were all his thoughts and he struggled to focus on anything of his own knowing you were out in the field. He’s sent you a message earlier, he has sent few of them, but you left him on read — and that was enough to tell him that you’re alive and well enough to check your phone. But he missed your voice and the cheesy emojis you always use when texting him. The day felt incomplete without the blue hearts on his screen, the ones you liked the most because they had a color of his eyes.
He gets on the bed and leans towards you, lowering himself enough to nuzzle his face to your lower back as his arm snakes around you. He feels you tense for a split second but you do nothing to push him away and he takes it as a yes. Satoru breathes you in, takes in the scent of your skin, kisses you tenderly, pressing his lips right next to the little dimples above your bottom. You feel the warmth spreading from his touch and reaching the very tips of your body and it feels soothing. It feels like you’re finally home.
Your sleeping top rides up under his ministrations, exposing your hip and your husband is quick to cover area with little kisses. He moves up, resting his head at the dip of your waist as his hand is tracing idle circles onto the silky flesh of your side. You sigh again, putting down the papers. You couldn’t focus on them anyway, not when his eyes are drawing you in.
“Satoru…”
“I know sweet cheeks, I messed up,” he admits and you close your eyes. The argument from the morning has been weighing you down and it surprised you how quickly you got used to spending good time with Satoru, forgetting how bumpy the ride was when you were straight out of the altar. Then it was your daily, then you fought more than talked normally and you never thought too much of those arguments after they happened. Then, you didn’t care. But now you do. Now, as the feelings between you and him are growing stronger and stronger, you do care. A lot.
“I messed up too,” you say and he moves again. His hand swiftly gathers all the documents you had spread out and pushes them off the bed and onto the nightstand. You twist your torso and he’s above you, his lips on your neck and he nips at your skin. It’s gentle, it’s intimate, it’s warm. You love his kisses.
Satoru is all or nothing when it comes to intimacy, and with you, he’s all in. He kisses you in ways that have your breath hitching, your heart beating faster, your face feeling hotter. He kisses like he’s savoring you, like you’re a dessert he’s been waiting for his entire life. Even the gentlest pecks convey so much passion, he’s slow about them, allowing his lips to meet your skin properly. He tastes you, breathes you in. And he loves to keep you close while doing it. His hands tend to plant themselves on your waist, wrap around your back, hold the nape of your neck. His hands like to wander, to explore. He has to touch you, he needs the skin-on-skin contact, he craves it more than he craves air and you love that in him. You love how he opened to you, stripped himself off the infinity and allowed you in.
Gojo pulls you closer, until there’s no space left between you and his chest. He rests finally, melting against the mattress as he cradles you in his arms and you can feel the tension leaving his body — and yours does too.
“I’m sorry, I hate to see you upset,” he says finally, his mouth against the top of your head and you hum, inhaling him in, with your nose buried into his chest. Your fingers paint gentle patterns on his bare back and you kiss his skin. “I didn’t mean to cause a fight and I didn’t mean to say what I said.”
“I know, Toru,” you reply, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry too.”
“Sleep well wifey.”
“Goodnight, baby.”
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AITA for playing video games?
(Tw for possible ableism?? Idk)
I (31M) have loved video games ever since I was little. They're comforting to me and have gotten me through a lot of hard times. I'm also autistic, and half of my hyperfixations have been on video games.
My girlfriend (27F) and I have been dating for 4 years, and overall have had a very good relationship. I've never liked a girl this much. But a recent disagreement has made me reconsider things.
She recently confessed to me that she doesn't like that I play video games, and that she especially doesn't like how obsessed I get over them. She says that it's childish and embarrassing, and that I should be focused more on my adult life.
I was pretty upset. I am admittedly quite immature for my age and do have some hangups on my age, and I've always worried that people would judge me for having these kinds of interests as I get older. I understand there's a stereotype of adult men spending all their time on video games and being irresponsible, but that's not me. I spend plenty of time with my girlfriend and although my job isn't great, that's down to my mental health issues (which I'm working on) more than anything else.
I pointed these things out to her, and also argued that she used to love video games, to which she had responded that she had naturally grown out of that as she'd gotten older and had expected me to do the same. I also explained that I was autistic and that a lot of my hyperfixations were on video games, and she said that while she understood that, surely there was a way I could find something more 'mature' to be hyperfixated on. She also scoffed a bit when I said I was autistic - I've always worried that she doesn't believe me because I'm self diagnosed, but I'm certain that I am (it's outright dangerous to be diagnosed as autistic in this country unfortunately).
We agreed to disagree, but her final word was that it would make her really happy if I could move on from video games and be an adult. I'm pretty upset.
I'd also like to add that this isn't a case of me neglecting the progression of our relationship. We don't want to get married, we've already moved in together, we've met eachothers' families, and while we do want kids, we want to wait until we're a bit more financially stable. This is solely her feeling that as a 31 year old man, I'm too old to play video games.
I don't think there's anything wrong with my hobbies - they make me happy and I'm not a 'toxic' gamer (most of the games I play are story based and I'm very respectful to other players in the ones that aren't). I don't think hobbies should have age limits, honestly. But it really bothers me that she's hurt by this - I love my girlfriend so much, and the fact that I don't think I can give up video games for her makes me feel really guilty. Honestly, I was really happy when we started dating that she also liked video games, I thought we could play together!
But I'm just scared that I've unintentionally been a shitty boyfriend, which is why I'm asking,
AITA?
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Okay I feel comfy requesting now!! Sorry when it’s new I just get anxious. Anyways can I request something small with Remus(he is my comfort character if you could tell) and the reader where she has a friend who blames everything on her weight(maybe she’s alittle chubby). Like her red face she’s had as long as she can remember? Well it’s because you’re overweight. Your stomachs hurting? It’s probably all that sugar you ate like I could never eat all that sugar. Like it’s constant comments like that and she just let it goes but maybe he hears at sticks up for her… if you couldn’t tell it’s totally self indulgent because I feel like shit rn 😅 anyways if not it’s a okay I will still love you with my whole heart 💕 thank you for even reading it 💕💕
Hi baby! Sorry this took so long, I hope this is okay! He less sticks up to the friend and more to reader. remus lupin x fem!reader (implied plus size!reader, but it's easy to picture any body type i think)
cw: fatphobia, judgment over food choices, insecurity, swearing
1.1k words
You kept glancing at the clock, wondering if an appropriate amount of time had passed for you to get off the phone. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy talking to your friend - you honestly did - but Remus had just gotten home from work and (no offense to all of your other loved ones), you would much rather spend your evenings with Remus. It didn’t help that he was lounging on your shared bed with a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other, looking too pretty for his own good.  
“So yeah, that was pretty fucking annoying.” Your friends bitter laughter came through your phone that was flat on your desk as you fiddled with random items on your shelf. 
“Sounds like it.” You saw the break in conversation as a chance to leave. “My stomach hurts.” It wasn't a complete lie. You were getting your period soon, and you had been cramping all day. Not enough to lie in bed, but enough to be a constant distraction.
“Ha! I bet. You’re always eating all that crap.” She scoffed. Your face burned shamefully. You clumsily picked up your phone, rushing to take her off speaker. Before you could manage, she spoke again. “Maybe you’ll finally stop shoveling shit into your body. Lord knows your waistline isn’t reason enough.” You heard Remus’ book hit the nightstand, loud enough to make you wince. You held the phone to your ear and laughed awkwardly.
“Yeah, lord knows…” You trailed off. 
“You know I’m not trying to be mean, right?” Like a light switch, her voice took on a sickly sweet tone. “I’m just blunt, you know me. But seriously, I just say these things because I’m your friend.”
“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was quiet, thick with the lump in your throat. 
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” She laughed again. “I’ll catch you later, okay? I hope you feel better soon.”
“Hopefully.” You smiled tight-lipped. “Talk to you later.” You didn’t wait for her to respond before you hung up, setting your phone down on the desk. You looked up into the mirror on the wall, seeing Remus looking at you severely. You blinked hard, shaking your head before looking down at the desk and pretending to organize something. 
“How was work?” You asked, fake chipper. 
“Come here.” He ignored your question, patting the bed beside him. He snuffed his cigarette out, only half smoked, and covered the ash tray with a lid.
You inhaled deep and stood up, shamefacedly walking over to him. He reached for you the moment you were at arms-length, tugging you to sit when you didn’t of your own accord. He sighed and you grimaced, face burning again. You thought you could cry. 
“Are you gonna look at me, dovey?” He sounded painfully gentle. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, a fake smile 
“How was your day?” You tried again, hoping it would stick this time. 
“Don’t do that.” He shifted to sit more upright, grabbing your hand in both of his. You tried to look clueless, but it clearly wasn't sticking. He sighed again. “Look, okay. I’m not going to jump around this conversation.” You looked down again. “I just-” He sounded pained, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to respond. 
You hated that he had heard your conversation. Partially because he tended to be a bit critical of your friends, even if he didn’t express it. Remus was overly protective in nature, baring his teeth whenever he perceived someone as a threat to his loved ones. The larger insecurity though, was his possible agreement with your friend's statements. You knew your friend wasn’t always wrong in her observations, but it still hurt nonetheless. You also knew you were sensitive, but the things she said still felt slightly, cruel, for a lack of a better word. 
“No it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” If there was any other sound in the room it would’ve overtaken your voice. You felt him stiffen slightly before turning to face you more. 
“It would seem that I do.” If he was about to reprimand you, he didn't have to sound so gentle. “I never want to come between you and your friends, you know I think it’s important to have your own people you talk to, and all that matters is that you like them. But I- I can’t help but comment now.” His thumb was rubbing gently into the inside of your wrist, feeling the veins there. “I don’t think the way she talks to you is very kind or… healthy. And I know that you say I can be a bit… overprotective.” He said the word like it was poison. “But I just... really don’t like it.” 
“She’s just trying to help.” You weren’t sure why you were defending the friend who seemed so determined to slice your self confidence. 
“There’s helping, and then there’s being rude.” He couldn’t keep the ire from his tone. 
“It’s not rude if it’s correct.” You said, barely above a whisper. You squeezed your eyes shut in a pitiful attempt to not cry.
“It’s not correct though.” He sounded angry now, you cowered in on yourself. “Do you really think that meanly about yourself, lovely girl?” He ducked his head to try to meet your eyes, but you wouldn’t let him. 
“I’m not thinking any way about myself.” You argued. “I’m just thinking honestly.” You looked up at him. He looked like he was in pain himself. 
“No.” He said firmly. “You’re not going to entertain that anymore. She’s fucking wrong, okay? The way she talks down to you isn’t okay. You’re perfect.” You shook your head. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing your glossy eyes to meet his fierce ones. “You’re perfect, dovey. I don’t give a shit what size you are or what any asshole thinks of it. The only thing I care about is you being happy and you knowing how fucking stunning I find you.” You tried to look down again but he didn’t let you. “Are we clear?” 
“Yes.” You said quietly. He nodded, settling down for the moment. Though you know that he will be extra insistent with his affection and compliments for the foreseeable future. 
“Alright. Enough of that.” He let his hand fall to your shoulder, then down to your waist. You winced as he felt the curving flesh of your side, but he didn’t stop. “C’mere, baby dove.” He pulled you into his lap before you could stop him. 
“I’m gonna crush you.” You said flatly. 
“Good.” He huffed. You were going to respond but his lips attached to your neck, right on the spot behind your ear, that he knew made you weak. You sighed. “I love you, dovey.” He kissed the spot again, cutting off your voice. You didn’t mind, though.
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