#also idk what this is it's messy because i did not know it was your bday until like last night bgdgbfxbgf IM SORRY BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzles out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

[arahabakix]

両面宿儺;

for @queenrojpag

happy birthday itz (*≧︶≦))(￣▽￣* )ゞ

#jjkedit #ryoumen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukerokus #usersophies #userkarura #useraki #userkururrugi #usergojoana #usernikiforova #edit:all #edit:color #HAPPY BIRTHDAY ITZ!!!!! #IDK IF IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY IN YOUR TIMEZONE BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!!! #i wanted to color nai but trimax is so tough for me to color so have the king of curses #your gifs are so fucking cool and you're honestly such a cool person!!!!!!!! #i really love talking to you about trigun and jjk and tojigo and kvk #also thank you for encouraging all my weird fanfics i am grateful for all the feedback #happy birthday my dude hope you have/had a nice day!!!! #also idk what this is it's messy because i did not know it was your bday until like last night bgdgbfxbgf IM SORRY BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!! #( o=^•ェ•)o ┏━┓ (❤´艸｀❤)

[ellastone-olsen]

hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:

can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝

The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff

★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader

Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?

★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)

★Word count: 1.5k

★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it

The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?

“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.

Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.

Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.

While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.

Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.

"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.

The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.

"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.

Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."

This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.

“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.

Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.

For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.

When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #wanda marvel

[suguruplsr]

ex geto as you roommate (love your work🩷🩷)

Ex suguru as your roommate!

✰ ✰ ✰ roommate!ex!suguru headcannons !

જ⁀➴ mind was racing, heart beating, thighs quivering, toes sh****** — when i saw this <3 and ty ilyyyy

,,roommate!ex!suguru x ex!fem!reader , suguru is toxic a bit , and a asshole , he brings girls over , soft sex , idk 🧍🏾‍♀️

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you broke up with after finding out he was talking to multiple girls on campus. even a few you knew and smiled to your face while their nudes were in their messages with him. but you didn't have any choice but to stay with him, only as his roomate of course.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who finds the changes in not only how you two act with each other, but how you live together, a nuisance. his room no longer cluttered with a few of your belongings, the smell of your body wash fading away in his sheets, (he didn't wash them and his pillow case for nearly 3 weeks), your voice waking him softly, the sound of the front door closing right as he wakes up with no aroma of food, all of it was gone.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who can't handle it. hearing your voice through the thin walls, talking to some guy over the phone. he's sure he knows the guy. a goodie two-shoes with absolutely no game at all. at least in suguru's opinion. it's bewildering that the guy even got you to the point of talking to him in that oh so sultry voice that you used to use on suguru himself. even if it was directed towards him. just hearing it made his heart, and something else jump.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts waking up early. up at 8 am, drinking a cup coffee, (his 4th cup), with nothing but a dark pair of sweats on, and his hair messy and untied. he’d scroll through his phone, not responding to his messages of girls he hasn’t talked to after the break up. all just to see you up and ready for a good 15 minutes before you leave for nearly 12 hours, and he's sure you're not that busy, you're so cute avoiding and ignoring his existence.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who's just so nosy, and doesn't know what to do with knowing that you're actually moving on from him. so he begins to tell you little lies, "that guy? no, the really smart one. yea, he's just fucking the psychology professor for a good grade.", "i heard some guy got your number yesterday. don't worry about who told me- he has herpes!" , "did you hear about that rumor of him and his sister? yes i saw that clown kissing her” he can’t let you leave him just yet, maybe he should start threatening people?

Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose lies are just so funny to you. you know what is true and what’s not. and you also know he’s just being a huge dick. but you can’t help but indulge him just a tiny bit and cut off a few guys just to see how his eyes twinkle, with a small, “i told you so.” it makes you feel jittery, desperately wanting to just, ‘burst his bubble’, and call him out on his bull.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to realize that despite you listening to his words, you aren’t as affected as he wishes you were. he knows it’s wrong to be upset that his, not-so-good, actions aren’t enough to push you over the edge. over back to him. he can still hear you talking to that one guy. you met him like a month ago and you’ve been going on dates with him every single week. he knows his ego is too big, especially to think that he’s better than some smart, preppy, cute guy. but he can’t help it.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to get petty. talking to new girls and finding quick fuck buddies whose names he can’t remember. but what he eventually did, which definitely pissed you off, was bring them home. sneaking them in the house and fucking them closer to your shared wall. acting clueless when you cuss him out in the morning. you never showed your face to them though, knowing that he picks a new girl every week so it was best just avoid the temporary girls. maybe he never saves their numbers because even he finds their shrills annoying. it makes you facepalm, the dick is never that good.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who actually hooks up with one girl more than once. surprising you when she walks out his room, finding you, who was making a bowl of cereal before you get ready for work.

“And who the hell are you..?” you sigh at the sound of her snob tone. but you can’t blame her. “i’m his roomate, and i’m leaving.” short and sweet. respectful. and yet she just had to open her mouth, “of course. geto wouldn’t fuck someone like you..” she trails off under her breath, making you whip your head with a roll of you eyes. “oh please. suguru, has fucked me more times than i can count. and you aren’t going to disrespect me where i live, so good day ma’am.” you open the door, a smug look on your face as she stomps out.

“did you really have to do that..” suguru slumped out of his room with a yawn, feigned annoyance on his pretty face, but you could tell he felt rather happy from the crinkle of his eyes. you aren’t sure why he’s obviously deriving some joy from seeing you kick out one of his hoes. but it makes your lips curl in a smile. “stop having sex with girls while i’m here. plus i think her wig was slipping.” your eyes soften at the sight of him covering his croaky laugh. you follow in suite with a few chuckles as you two actually continue the conversation, talking for nearly an hour before you have to go.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you begin to get more comfortable with compared to before. the tension between you two lessening within weeks. you two even continued having your late night horror movies, which you stopped after breaking up, or talking to each for hours about gossip that you two bring home. hell, both of you spent two hours talking about the guy you’ve been seeing, piecing up to the fact that he may have been a bad ex of some girl you knew. suguru was fairly happy when you called the guy and broke things off.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts to change as your friendship heals. becoming more involved in things he actually likes, cutting off on his smoking and drinking habits, getting good grades, working out. you knew he was genuine about his growth in becoming more healthy from him doing it unconsciously and without question.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose change slowly attracts you. its refreshing. but you knew from his glances and small intimate touches, that he still wanted you. you thought he’d be over you after nearly 5 months but you’ve decided to wait. maybe he’s caught on to your own fleeting actions? anytime you’re touching him, he makes it a mission to have your hands on him longer than they should be.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who gets bolder after a small incident of him accidentally cornering you…

“that’s the salt.” “oh..” you sigh playfully as he puts the salt back, searching for the sugar again and moving around you. you admit, it was kinda scary how his taller build just towered over you. large arms going around your head and— wait what?

pausing, you place the knife down on the cutting board and look up. suguru’s jaw was way above you, one of his long and large arms around your whole body to reach up to the cabinet as he searched for the sugar shaker. turning, you tried to move away but his other arm blocked your way.

and of course. with the way your kitchen was styled, part of the counter blocked the other side. “suguru….” your voice comes out quieter than you wish it did, so meek and quiet. “suguru..” you say it louder, making him halt and look down at you. god, you looked adorable, your eyes trying to look anywhere but him, biting your lip. gesturing to the sink, you stammer, eyes flickering up to him only to look away. “you’re kinda..” “oh- sorry”

suguru immediately moves away, watching silently as you wash your hands. he could tell how nervous you were from how you had let your hands stay in the water a little longer than needed, taking a deep breath. so cute.

Roommate!Ex!Suguru who lets his hands linger on you more, sometimes guiding your body when moving around you, or helping you out. “your bonnet’s falling a bit, lemme fix that right quick.” and you know it doesn’t take that long to adjust your bonnet. you know it doesn’t take that long to get a piece of lint off you. you know it doesn’t take that long to fix your necklace. you know. yet you never speak out on it. but maybe that’s why he keeps doing it.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who makes small innuendos when you least expect it. loving the small gasp that escapes your lips, head whipping to him with traces of your ice cream on your lips. “what? i’m just saying~” he’d tease, wiping off the ice cream and licking it off his thumb. the tension quickly easing as you slap his shoulder with a huff.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who knows you both aren’t shy of knowing each other's bodies. but you two can’t help but act like little virgins who can’t handle being near each other without getting nervous. it’s like falling in love all over again, but with sexual tension. and it's killing him. you both know what you want so why not act on it and try again. together.

Roomate!Ex!Suguru who works you up, annoying you and turning you on all in one day only to shut you up with a kiss. which leads to both of you eventually stumbling onto the couch..

“m’so sorry baby.. should’ve been better” you huff as suguru mutters the nth apology, his feather like kisses on your neck numbing the pain of his cock sliding into to you for the first time in what feels like forever. “i know— um, oh fuck.. sugu, please, it’s okay! i..” your whimpers make suguru’s eyes lock onto you, leaving little scratches on his chest.

he was in deep. cock pushed to the hilt and right at your sweet spot. just pressing it. but he just wouldn’t move, your pussy was so tight, so he could just grind into you and he’s sure he’d cum. “s-sorry baby. i’m just so sorry n’ i can’t think. fuckin’ pussy is a-amazing..” suguru closes his eyes tight. his voice having an undertone of a whine as he slowly rocks his cock in and out of you.

“uh— mm, your so deep suguru~ just like this.. still need ta’ get used to it” your moan has a chuckle leaving his lips. both of you were in a drunk haze of sex and emotions, unable to even fuck properly. “yea? o-ok. that’s fine. but please tell me you’re gonna take me back after this. fuck. really wanna be with you again. i love you so much and—“

you cut him off like a small kiss, a ditzy smile playing on your lips, “of course you idiot. i don’t just let anyone fuck me. not on a couch of all things. a-and i love you too.” your nails dig into his shoulder at the feeling of his cock dragging in slowly. it made you feel delirious, and him leaning down to continue the kisses topped it off, speaking between them, “then i’m not fucking you. i’m making— ha, love to you..”

#jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk #jujustu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #jjk smut #geto x black reader #geto x you #jujutsu geto #getou suguru smut #geto x y/n #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #jjk suguru #suguru x chubby reader #getou suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen suguru #headcanon

[rizsu]

wife on the low manjiro, sanzu.

sum. babysitter!reader. idk where i was going with this one

manjirō sano

tension. too much tension. it's not easy trying to focus on a happy baby when you have two eyes digging through your soul. his gaze is terrifying—whether it's just the way he's just there quietly or the fact that he's bonten's leader, you don't know. he's a scary man.

trying your best to ignore whatever he's doing, you focus on cheerful baby that's been slapping her hands continuously on the little container with water.

she's five months currently so you decided it's time for sensory playtime! starting off with water and slowly adding little sensory toys into the container as she plays.

“it's getting messy.”

“oh—should we stop?”

“no, continue. i'll clean up.”

mikey pushes himself off of the door's frame and wanders off to some room for a mop. he walks away with thoughts swimming in his head; delusional thoughts if you asked him.

he doesn't really know what is it that he's feeling. is it love? dunno. he never felt it in a long time. well, it's not like he remembers what love felt like—he didn't even love the mother of his daughter. hell he can't even remember what possessed him to have sex.

coming back into the playroom, he stills for a moment. cute, he thinks. you look fitting like that. something about the way you're giggling with his daughter while she babbles words only those of her kind understands really makes his heart swell.

“'m back,” he announces after a good few minutes of gawking.

moving the baby onto her crib, you pinch her cheek before going to help mikey.

so close, you think. his body's just above yours—close to the point where you can feel his sweater on your head. his hands moves on yours taking hold of the container.

you made the mistake of glancing at him,, now you're stuck gazing into his static eyes, looking for any hints of his current emotion.

five seconds turned into ten and he doesn't break the eye contact. rather, his right hand glides from the container and rests itself on your cheek.

does he know why he did that? no.

is he going to elaborate? also no.

a few more minutes in wondering silence until he breaks it.

“you're pretty.”

oh!

it takes a minute to process it; eyes opened but still looking into his. mikey drifts his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. he shows no signs of taking back what he said.

“thank...you..?”

chuckling, he notes your confusion and decides to fuel it by saying: “you're welcome. be my girlfriend.”

sanzu haruchiyo

“pick a colour: blue or red.”

“how about no!” hoisting up his daughter on your hip, you circle around the table making your way to the kitchen as you ignore his attempts of getting you to pick the drug of the day.

sanzu raises his eyebrow at you. you sure have a lot of nerve in front of someone that can easily kill you but he won't. why would he kill you when he isn't sure if he, sober!sanzu, loves you or if he, high!sanzu, is just fucking around.

eh, it's not like he's worried. that's something for future him to worry about!!

“sanzu, her formula's about to end!” shouting from the kitchen as you violently shake her bottle, you faced your focus more on the quiet eight month old rather than the twenty-eight years old father.

“is that all?” sanzu moves on arm behind the couch as he looks back at you. she's a natural with kids—especially mine, he thinks. he's going to blame the drugs for that even though he's very much sober.

“yeah, is it okay if i use your card? i need to stock up on the groceries too.” you explained, dropping a few droplets of the milk on your forearm to check the temp.

“why're you askin' me? it's your card. i took it out for you.”

“because i don't wanna—oh???” you paused. sanzu, your boss, couldn't have possibly taken out another card for you right? certainly, right? god, it's so hard to focus after he said those words. you try to not think too much of it but it's just too difficult.

lost in thought, you didn't realize that he's already in front of you, holding up his mini to give her a nose kiss before looking back at you.

“looks like she's finished. let's go.” walking towards to door, sanzu grabs his keys from the holder along with his mask.

“huh—oh, right her stuff. just a minute!” you can't seem to think coherently, not when those words still linger fresh in your mind.

maybe it's the drugs,

maybe it's you,

maybe it's him,

maybe it's the way he holds your hand firmly while smiling whenever an elderly lady compliments your little “family”,

or maybe it's the way he guides you into his room at night after his daughter fell asleep, pulling you into a kiss that answers all questions.

#+ rizsu: tokyo revengers. #tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #mikey x reader #sanzu x reader #manjiro sano fluff #sanzu fluff #tokyo revengers drabbles

[hysteria-things]

I also have another idea (if ur comfortable) where like chris is ghost face and reader doesnt know but like she kinda catches him coming home after killing? idk then they like have sex IDKK JS PLEASE HAVE GHOST FACE CHRIS SEX PLS.

GHOSTFACE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you uncover your boyfriend’s deepest darkest secret…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, mentions killing, anxiety, blood, arguing (?), chasing, oral (female receiving), degradation, hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,479

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for pookie @imwetforyourmom :)

i hope it’s okay that he’s not in the mask when it’s happening but it’ll make sense when you read i promise😭

i’m brewing up A LOT right now i’m so stoked.

chris wasn’t next to you when you woke up, but you’re not surprised. he and his brothers tend to do things late at night because of their work, which makes sense because all three of them are night owls. you, however, are not.

on this particular night, you felt quenched. you get up from under the covers and walk your way to the kitchen in your shared house with your boyfriend. you grab a bottle out of the fridge and start drinking it, then your eyes land on chris’ backpack that’s next to the couch.

he always brings that with him, so he either just got home or forgot it. you shrug and continue to down the cold water, but then you hear the water start running in the bathroom.

you nod your head, taking a mental note that he did indeed just come home. as you start to walk back into the bedroom, a shine of white glistens from the moonlight. you turn your head to it and see that it’s coming from chris’ bag. it’s open ever so slightly.

curiosity gets the best of you, and you kneel to unzip it fully. your breath catches in your throat.

there have been murders happening in towns around you, but you never thought about them because the town you’re living in is very keen on security. you felt safe here.

the news calls the culprit ghostface because of the mask they wear, and that stupid mask does tend to creep you out every time you see it. the way it’s droopy just never sat right with you.

that so-called stupid mask is staring back at you, some blood is still left on it. you can’t help but stare at it, your breathing quickens the more you do so. you have to be dreaming, right?

but you know you aren’t. you grip the mask and march your way to the bathroom, not bothering to knock. instead, you burst through the door. you gasp at the sight in front of you.

chris is standing at the sink, dressed in all black as blood coats his hands and cheeks. it must’ve seeped through the outfit. his hair is messy, his eyes glancing down at the mask in your hand. thinking he’d be mad that you went through his stuff, you stay silent, waiting for an explanation. he smirks instead.

“is this some sick fucking joke?” you scream, gripping the object in your hand even tighter. you can’t fathom what’s happening right now.

“hi, ma.” he greets, turning the water off and walking to you to kiss you on the cheek. “you’re up late.” he carelessly takes the mask from you and walks out into the living room.

you snarl. he’s always been a cocky mother fucker.

out of rage, you go charging at him. “what the fuck, chris?” you say as you push him. he doesn’t go far though since he’s much stronger than you.

he chuckles and turns to you. is it fucked up that seeing him like this makes you more attracted to him?

you shake the thought out of your mind. stupid y/n. what’s wrong with you?

“what… the fuck?” you repeat, this time breathing heavier. tears start to trickle in your eyes. “i can explain.” he says.

you flare your nostrils at him, silently telling him to continue. your boyfriend of a year and a half has been lying to you, and you want an answer now. “i’m not the only one, you know. nick makes the calls, i do the killing, and matt deals with the bodies.”

you pity laugh. “this is crazy.” you run your fingers through your hair. what you feel right now is complicated. yeah, you’re scared, but not of him.

“i didn’t think it was important to tell you.” he continues. “we’ve been perfectly fine without you knowing.”

he cannot be serious.

“you didn’t think it was important to tell me?” you laugh again. “you’re fucking insane.”

you run for the front door and open it, speed walking down the porch steps. “where are you going?” chris calls out.

“anywhere. you are fucking crazy, chris.” you have no other words to say except something along the lines of that.

you hear his footsteps start to follow you, and this time you bolt it. “y/n, seriously? come back!”

the rookie mistake you made was running into the woods that are across from your house. you weren’t thinking, you just needed to run.

you don’t know where you are as you keep running, becoming out of breath from running for so long. arms wrap around your waist and twirl you around. you squeal, clawing at their arms and hands. “get off me!” you kick behind you.

“y/n, relax.” chris says, dodging your hits as you try to squirm free of his grasp. eventually, you stop fighting and let him hold you.

he turns you around so you can face him. “do you think i’d ever hurt you?” he asks.

you shake your head because it’s true. it’s not like you don’t love him anymore. you still do. “but how—”

“shh.” he shushes, taking his red-tinted hands and cupping your face with them to pull you into a kiss.

he leaves a kiss on your jaw before turning you around, your front side leaning on a tree. he takes his pointer finger and reaches under your nightgown. he smirks when he’s greeted with your bare core. “no underwear?” he teases.

you whine, pushing back on his finger. your pussy is aching for more touch. he kneels, getting a full view of your glistening folds. you gasp when you feel his tongue start lapping slowly.

he’s going painfully slow, so you whine and grind your hips back. he gets the memo and works his tongue faster, your hips still grinding to match the direction he’s going for more pleasure.

when his nose starts to touch your clit, you moan out a swear. chris starts sucking when he finds the right spot. you grip the bark of the tree and throw your head back. “right there, chris. fuck.”

your legs start to twitch when your orgasm rips through you, spreading your juices all over his tongue. he continues licking until there’s no cum left, and you whimper at the sensitivity.

you hear him unbuckle his jeans. they plop at his ankles, and he scrunches your nightgown to the small of your back and holds it there with one hand.

he moves your hair to the side so he can whisper in your ear. “i wonder what people would think of you.” he starts to go into you, and you gasp at the feeling. “not only dating the famous ghostface killer but getting fucked like a whore by him as well.”

he says that as he thrusts just his tip. you let out a choked moan. “please.” you whine. “fuck me.”

chris pushes down the front of your pajamas so your tits bounce out. he’s still thrusting when he squeezes them with his unoccupied hand.

“come on.” you groan, getting impatient. “please.”

he sighs, placing his hand that was on your breasts to your throat, bringing your head back so it can lean on his shoulder.

a loud moan falls from your lips when he starts to fuck into you from behind. his eyes look at your face that’s contorting to pleasure with each thrust. even though it’s dark, the dry blood on his face is still visible, and you find it so hot.

tears come out of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. since you both are standing, the angle of his dick is upward and hits your g-spot repeatedly.

your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open as pornographic sounds are not only coming from your mouth but from the sounds of your pussy taking chris’ cock as if it was made for it.

“hugging my cock so well.” he coos. “you’re clenching, ma.”

a hoarse cry leaves you. “oh, f-fuck.”

your entire body shakes with ecstasy, your orgasm streaking down his shaft. he takes the hand that was on your throat and grabs your hair. “you gonna let me cum in you?” he pulls. “huh?”

you try your best to nod frantically with his grip on your head, sobbing out whines. “here it comes, slut.”

for his last thrust, he pulls out and slams back it, making sure you take all of his release.

he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall. he’s still buried inside of you because the both of you need to catch your breath.

he finally pulls out of you slowly, letting out a shaky sigh when he looks at what he just did. “i think we both need a shower.” he says sheepishly, lifting you off of the ground and walking through the trees to get back to the house.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

[star-girl69]

Your Girl

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: late at night, you and clarisse get to know one another.

a/n: ykw i dont even know what i write anymore just enjoy it i truly just listen to the wind oh my god

Your Girl - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: im sorry im obsessed w the nightmare trope, friends to lovers MEYOW, HURT COMFORT, clarisse just wants to KISS, light tension, very light and fluffy tho…. not a lot of angst tbh, POSSESSIVE CLARISSE I SCREAMED, mutual pining YESSSSS, they’re in love but they don’t think the other could be in love w them, clarisse knows what she wants and sets out to get it, monsters- again it’s a drakon bc i’m evil, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of weapons, weed and smoking, substance abuse idk if it’s addiction my health teacher would be so disappointed, shotgunning weed, idk what’s happening honestly we’re all along for the ride, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You don’t know where Clarisse gets it from, but she has good weed.

They’re these perfectly little rolled blunts, with some sort of amazing concoction inside- you can’t even be bothered to care that it’s bad for you. Not when it makes you feel so good, not when it makes everything else fade away.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Sitting in the woods, leaning against a rock covered in moss, staring up at the stars. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you’re just here next to each other. But tonight, you think you took one too many hits, so you’re feeling a little sentimental.

“I would fucking die without you, Clarisse.”

She snorts. “Yeah, probably.”

“No, no, not just like- because you’re so strong, and stuff, but because of this fucking weed. I can’t sleep without it, y’know.”

She hums.

“And, like, you need sleep to live, or else your brain will like eat itself, or something ridiculous. Did you know that?”

She looks at you, mouth curved into an unimpressed smile, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t, and I care so much. Thanks for telling me, leech.”

“That’s mean,” you huff.

“Then stop leeching off of me and stealing my weed.”

Clarisse always looks so pretty in the moonlight. You would never admit that to anyone, but in the dark when your head is all hazy- you know she’s pretty. She’s beautiful, if you’re being honest, but she’s also your dealer- you can’t risk upsetting her. But still, sometimes you’re not sure how she isn’t a daughter of Aphrodite.

But you know better than anyone else that she gets everything from Ares, like she’s a carbon copy of him.

She gets her precision, her strength, her tactical mind, her rolling storm of emotions from him.

Except, there’s a softness in her. Only here, in the moonlight. You don’t know if it’s you or the weed, but you like to think it’s you. You like to think that Clarisse likes you as much as you like her, not just tolerates you for your mediocre company.

She’s sitting with one foot planted onto the ground, hair pulled back all messy, her arm balancing on her knee. The joint is held out conveniently towards you, lazily in between her fingers, so you flip yourself onto your stomach and reach out with open lips.

She smiles and flips the joint around, placing it onto your lips. Your close your eyes and your mouth, breathing in deeply. Gods, does it taste horrible, but you love it too much.

You pull back and breathe out the smoke.

“You love me, and my weed-stealing tendencies.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” she rolls her eyes.

—-

Clarisse probably trains more than any other demigod at camp. Thirty minutes after dinner, like clockwork, you can find her heading to the field where all the sparring dummies live.

Clarisse is probably your only true friend at camp. You stick to yourself for the most part, hang out with your siblings, but besides for that it’s Clarisse. And she’s the same way. She hangs out with her siblings, and then you. Of course- everyone at Camp knows her name and her ruthless reputation.

You’re unknown, she’s known. She’s the best fighter you’ve ever seen, you’re mediocre, compared to her. She helps you at every turn, you’re the one getting helped by her. She’s mean to everyone, and you’re kind to whoever happens upon you.

You force each other to bring out the other sides of yourself no one gets to see. Clarisse gets to be soft, you get to be loud and annoying. You’re friends, but you both get something out of it.

She’s your friend, your dealer, your savior.

If the first day you came to camp, running through the woods with a drakon hot on your heels and your mouth split open into a scream- maybe Clarisse and her siblings wouldn’t have turned around and noticed the drakon.

Of course, Clarisse was the one who actually killed it, and she was the one who hoisted you up from where you had collapsed, breathing heavily. She was the one who actually made sure you weren’t hurt while your satyr protector panicked about having to face the Cloven Council.

She was the one who found you in the middle of the night, that drakon hissing in your ear, she was the one who gave you the claw she had pried from it’s dead body, she was the one who told you it was dead and nothing could hurt you in Camp.

“Clarisse!” you call, running towards her. Most campers like to wind down after dinner, so the field is empty.

“Leech,” she says when you reach her, leaning her spear against a dummy and stretching her arms above her head.

You always come everyday. You ask her the same question.

“Do you have it?”

She digs under her armor, pulling out the small cloth containing the blunt. “You would probably go insane if I didn’t.”

You feel calmer just looking at it. You smile sheepishly up at her.

“You know I can’t sleep without it, Clarisse.”

She looks away, stuffing it back under her armor, against her stomach.

“Maybe you should try and skip one night.”

You scoff. “I don’t feel like pulling an all-nighter, Clarisse.”

She nods, but her face is riddled with concern. “Okay, angel,” she mutters, so low you can barely hear it. But you do. You hear her call you angel, and you turn away instead of slamming your lips into hers.

—-

After that first night, you slept with that claw tight into your hand. And it was fine. You still had the occasional nightmare, but every demigod had those. But the older you got, the more monsters you learned about, the more comfortable you got with being a demigod- the more the nightmares came. Knowing the drakon was dead didn’t help, and the nightmares got worse and worse until Clarisse found you again one night.

You had drifted apart from her. She had her life and you had hers, but ever since you’ve been bonded by the nights.

She wrapped her arms around you and let you cry, mumbling about how she was the strongest demigod at camp, and there was the barrier, and nothing would ever get through to you.

She was soft in that moment. And you could tell she regretted it, because she ignored you for the next few days until one of her siblings pushed you to the ground. She appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his shirt, yelling that if he ever touched you again, she’d fucking kill him.

While he sputtered and asked why she cared about some stupid weak girl, she helped you up and said: “She’s my girl.”

And since that day 3 months ago, you’ve always been her girl. Neither of you really knew what that meant, except you liked being around each other and you liked this transaction. Clarisse liked owning something. You liked belonging to someone.

That’s what this entire friendship is about- convenience.

So, that’s why Clarisse being concerned about you makes you feel weird. You care about Clarisse, she cares about you- but only enough that she doesn’t want to see you hurt by someone else. But who is she to stop you when you’re the one hurting yourself?

You arrive at the rock in the forest, fingers twisting together. Clarisse is already there, lighter and blunt set out on the ground, polishing her spear.

“Hey,” she says, looking down.

“Hi.”

You sit down, eager to get your hands on the weed and forget about the way Clarisse’s concern confuses you.

You stare at your shaking hand.

Gods, are you really that nervous?

Clarisse’s eyes are sharp, she notices everything, she processes it much faster than you can ever dream to. It’s why she’s so quick in battle. She’s a well oiled machine and you’re the one job she’s assigned to do- she knows you by heart after all these nights.

Her spear is pushed off her lap. “Why are you shaking?” she says, voice low and raspy, her hand cupping yours.

“Low blood sugar,” you lie. “I’ll grab a snack before I go to bed.”

She says nothing, but you watch her hesitate as she grabs the blunt and the lighter from the ground, you watch her hesitate again as she goes to light it. But she lights it, she sticks it in between her fingers and holds it out to you.

“C’mere,” she mutters, and you lean forward and let her place the blunt on your parted lips. You breathe in, only for a few seconds, and you could go for a lot longer.

“I wasn’t done,” you huff as she takes her own drag.

“My weed,” she shrugs. “I decide how much you get.”

“You’re a bitch.”

She laughs. She laughs and it makes your stomach twist in such a good way you can’t feel like this anymore, you can’t remember what she does to you, what she called you.

You reach out blindly for the blunt, biting your lip as you practically climb on top of her.

“Clarisse!” you yell, but she seems to find your desperation hilarious, holding the blunt out as far as she can. “I fucking hate you, oh my Gods.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she says, pushing you off of her. You realize you’re laying on your stomach in between her legs, one hand planted to the ground around her leg, the other reaching out.

She leans back and takes another drag. You roll your eyes and move to attack her, but she’s too fast, sitting up and holding your hand down, her other hand grabbing your chin. She breathes out the smoke right into your lips that are parted in shock, smiling as you stare right into her amused eyes.

She leans back while you sit there stupidly on top of her, blowing out the smoke. “That- that’s- I hate you, did I mention that?”

“You did,” she muses. “But we both know you’re lying.”

You look at her, at her wide smile, at the look in her eyes. You want nothing more than to be her girl- her girl in the way that she’ll kiss your head, tell you about all the things you’ll never do, she’ll lay down with you in a bed of soft pillows. Her girl in the way the reason she’s soft in the moonlight isn’t the weed, it’s because of you. Her girl in the way you can run to her, the way you do now, but with the added connotation of love.

You grab the joint, and she lets you, watching intently as you breathe in and blow out the smoke. She has no right to be worried over you. Not when you’re the one making the choice to waste away your youth. And especially when you’re not her girl- not in the way you want to be.

—-

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” she hums.

You sit back against the rock. Normally, you would have been here 20 minutes ago.

You didn’t catch her after dinner, and you stayed firmly in your bed until it all got to be too much. You’re terrified of sleeping, of the nightmares that will come- but for some reason, the weed just puts you at such ease that you don’t have any nightmares.

You didn’t want to be near Clarisse tonight. Not after yesterday, not after the way she’s been making you feel, and the fact that you know she could never really like you. Why would she? You are the stupid weak girl who gets pushed over. You run from drakon’s and can’t even sleep because of nightmares.

Clarisse is fiercely protective of those she loves, but you’re too much work.

You wanted to go one night. One night without the weed, and prove to her and yourself that you don’t need it. You’re not that weak.

But you couldn’t.

You sit down, she looks at your tense shoulders and doesn’t tease you, just hands you the blunt. You mumble something of a thank you, looking up at the stars, shoulders relaxing after a few more breaths.

“I, uh, I tried to skip. Tonight, I mean. I tried not to come.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You’re so scared of the nightmares that even if it’s a placebo effect, you come back to this clearing every night.

“But you couldn’t?” she asks.

“I couldn’t,” you affirm, staring at the ground.

“Well, you can’t just go cold turkey, dummy. You have to wean yourself off of it. Do you not remember, like, any of those nicotine patch ads?” she laughs. “You’ve got a good memory, you remember.”

“Shut up, meanie,” you mumble, raising the joint to your lips. She stops you.

“Ah-ah. Starts now. Make it a good one, ‘cause that’s your last, baby.”

“Fine,” you mumble, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You breathe in for a long time, tempted to go a little longer, but Clarisse reaches over and pinches your cheek. “Okay!” you yell, throwing the joint back to her.

She laughs and raises it to her own lips, taking in another long drag before putting it out.

You look at her, silent question in the air. She shrugs.

“Been meaning to slow down for a while, why not do it together?”

“Yeah,” you hum, looking back towards the stars. “Oh, hey, Ares is out tonight.” She looks over.

“Yeah,” she muses. “Fuckin’ Ares.”

“It’s still beautiful,” you say, stars in your eyes. “You have to think about it the way mortals do. They don’t know the Gods put them up there- they think it’s just some random spotting of stars, they think they made patterns out of it. Isn’t that beautiful? To make patterns and people out of stars? To look for humanity where there is none?”

“I never thought about it like that,” Clarisse says.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you ask. You can feel her eyes on you.

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Beautiful.”

—-

The next two weeks goes by the same. You don’t catch Clarisse after dinner, but you come every night, you smoke a little less, she teases you and gets closer to you. She gets bolder and bolder and you get shyer and shyer.

You still feel like too much. If she just lets you prove this to her and to yourself, the maybe you can lean against the rock with her and flirt back.

—-

You meet Clarisse by the rock. She’s still standing, waiting for you. She takes the last of the blunt you’ve been using for the last few days and lights it, taking one small drag before she flips it around and holds it out to you.

“C’mon,” she guides. “Not too much, I’ll stop you.”

You feel kind of like a baby as Clarisse puts the joint on her lips, fingertips against your face to steady her hand. You breathe in for just a second, tempted for more, but she takes it away. You look up at her, fingers twisted together.

“Clarisse, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

She leaves the blunt to blow out in the wind in the natural dip of the rock, your own little ashtray at the top. Of course, Clarisse will come and collect it the next morning- you don’t want to upset the nymphs and satyrs in the forest.

“It’s a good idea,” she affirms. “Don’t worry, okay?”

You’re scared. You remember being chased by the drakon even now, you remember it’s snarls, you remember it’s claws moving through the air. You remember your heart pumping in your ears, you remember the stones in your stomach that were supposed to be fear.

You feel like Kronos, but what you swallowed wouldn’t just sit idly inside of you- no, your fear would rip through your stomach and your skin and burst out of you in an explosion of blood, like some sick joke of a firework.

She grabs your wrists. Clarisse is soft, here, in the moonlight.

“Hey, it’s okay. I-I was thinking, I didn’t know if you were gonna be okay, but why don’t you sleep in my cabin?”

You shift on your feet. “Clar, no, I can’t ask you to do that. What if we get caught? And I-I- it’s embarrassing, what if your siblings see? What if they tell everyone?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes and tugs you closer from where you had subconsciously started to drift away.

“They already think we’re dating, anyways. Besides, Y/N, no one cares. Most of my siblings have secrets anyways,” she smiles.

“Wh- we’re dating? They think- why?”

Her face is deadpan. “‘Cause you’re my girl.”

You pull back. “Clarisse.”

“What?” she says, slightly incredulous. “You are. You’re about the only person I can tolerate at this camp. I hope you know that. I know I can be horrible, but really, I… care about you a lot.”

You look in her eyes. There’s no lies, no insincerity.

“I know, Clarisse. And I… I appreciate it so much. You’re, like, my only friend,” you smile.

She smiles back but it’s tight. “Friend, yeah.”

You put your arms around her neck and hug her. It’s the first time you’ve ever really hugged her, and her arms wrap tight around your waist. Her mouth presses against your hair. You let yourself be her girl in this moment.

Clarisse is your best friend. She cares about you. Of course she helps you with this. She’s your best friend. Of course you let her.

—-

You do follow Clarisse back to the Ares cabin, back to her bed- and she points to one of her siblings you can’t see in the dark, but there are two figures in the bed. She smiles and you stifle a laugh.

You know better than anyone else that big bad Ares kids are like a marshmallow on the inside. They act all tough, and they are pretty tough, but there’s a soft spot inside of them only unlocked by one person with the right key.

You notice her sibling has their arm around the other person. You wonder if Clarisse will wrap her arm around you like that too.

Clarisse climbs into her bed, opening the covers for you. The beds at Camp are twin sized, but you can fit two people on them if you’re close together. You don’t hesitate, not anymore, not when you have one chance to pretend you’re really hers.

You lay on your side, facing her, hands tucked up by your chest. Her eyes meet yours, she brushes her curls out of her face.

“Good?” she asks. You nod, breathing out.

“‘M fine,” you say.

She rubs your arm, cold from the dark night. “Just relax, okay? Just close your eyes, Y/N.”

You do, you close your eyes, but you’re so fucking terrified you can’t.

“Clarisse,” you breathe, a plead. For what, you don’t know. You want a million things from her in this moment. It’s not fair of you to ask her, you know this, but it doesn’t stop you from asking.

Your breath comes fast, your nails dig into your palms, but you keep your eyes screwed shut like sleep will just magically hit you like a train.

“It’s okay,” Clarisse says, firm. “Why are you so scared?” she whispers.

“They’re so real,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“They’re not.”

She wraps her arms around you so tight you feel like she’s crushing you. But it keeps you in the moment. If you focus on the way her skin feels against yours, on the way her thumb brushes your shoulder blade, her fingertips scratching the back of your scalp.

If you focus, if you imagine all the thing you and her will never do, if you imagine being her girl, then you can fall asleep.

You dream of her lips pressing against your head, her voice in your ear, calling you her angel.

—-

You wake up, Clarisse still wrapped around you, and slowly detangle yourself. Drool pools at the corner of her lips, and you have to bite back a giggle as you slip out of the blankets and into the warm riding sun.

She looks just as pretty in the sunlight as she does in the moonlight. You feel like a lover slipping out of a bed of secrets. But you’re not. You’re just a friend slipping out of a bed of rumors.

She looks so peaceful, you can’t help but wonder if she always sleeps like this- or if having you next to her had the same effect on her sleep as it did to yours.

—-

There’s a loud knock at your cabin door.

There’s only you and a few of your siblings in here, putting the final touches on their outfits for the day, grabbing the last items they need. One of your younger siblings open the door, and you look around the pillars- maybe it’s a counselor doing some sort of inspection? You take a glance around your bunk- but it’s all clean.

Your eyes meet hers.

“Out,” she says, roughly. She looks at you so intently you almost wonder if she’s talking to you. But when you siblings stand there in shock, she looks away. “Well? I said get out, dummies.”

They exchange looks with you, but eventually shuffle out, not wanting to risk Clarisse and her wrath.

She shuts the door behind your last sibling.

“Being tough has it perks, huh?” she smiles, leaning against the door. Your shirt isn’t even pulled on properly, one of your bra straps is already falling down your shoulder from the act of putting your shirt on, and you’re staring at her with your mouth wide open.

She looks you up and down.

“C-Clarisse, what-?”

She walks over to you, frown etched onto her face.

“I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Oh,” you say. “I… I thought you would have wanted me gone-”

“Don’t care. If you’re going to sleep with me then you need to wake me up and tell me you’re leaving.”

She rolls her eyes at your confusion. She sits on your bed and then gestures animatedly for you to sit down.

“Did you not sleep well?” she fusses. “What’s up with you this morning?”

“I slept great, Clarisse, it’s just- why are you here?”

“To tell you that you can’t leave,” she deadpans. “I mean, you spend all night shaking in my arms, terrified, and then I wake up and you’re not there? I almost killed someone. You’re lucky I decided to check here first, Y/N.”

She laughs. She laughs like it’s so funny.

“Why?” you ask.

“‘Cause you’re my girl,” she shrugs. “And-”

“Clarisse, what does that mean?”

You know what you want. And you’re not dumb, but you’re the only friend Clarisse really has- what did you have to compare it to? You’ve been thinking about it in your head, rolling it around like a diamond- each side reflects something you want from her. Her love, her protection, her touch, her time, her.

She plays with her fingers. “It means… I like touching you. I like protecting you. I like being near you. I like your voice and your face.”

She stares at you blankly, like she’s recounting a grocery list, waiting for an affirmative “yes, I heard you.” But all you can do is stare in shock, trying to make your brain catch up with your heart- Clarisse likes your face. Clarisse feels the same way you do. You can be her girl, and you’re not too much for her, you’re not just friends.

“Oh, fuck it,” she mumbles. She places her hand on your face and pecks your lips. “That’s what it means, okay? I’m, like, embarrassingly in love with you, if you haven’t noticed.”

Clarisse is so blunt and forward it makes your head spin.

She stares into your eyes, searching them for something other than shock and confusion.

“Okay,” she says. Shuffling back. You can tell she’s hurt and embarrassed, but her face reveals nothing other than faux confidence and indifference. “I’ll go, I guess-”

“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your lips onto hers.

It feels so overwhelmingly right and fills you with such a calmness that weed could never compare to. If you were dependent on the joints, then one taste and you’re addicted to Clarisse. She kisses you back with just as much ferocity, throwing your arms around her neck, trying to swallow you whole with her mouth as she grabs your neck with one hand, your face with the other.

It’s months of tension and wanting, lips touching through the passing of a joint, all of it coming down to this moment that feels so bad, so sinful- surely the Gods must frown upon loving someone this much. You would never pray to any of them again if it meant Clarisse would keep kissing you like this.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both smiling wide, leaning into her palm, hands playing with the curls at the base of her neck. You feel like a giddy school girl. You feel like a lover discovering something wildly new and unknown, promising to keep it secret, sealing it with a kiss of pure fire.

“That was such a mean way to confess to someone,” you say. “Just bitchy. Brass and blunt- harsh, even.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pressing her face against yours.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I know you’re a big softie who drools in her sleep.” She pulls away and glares at you.

“I don’t fucking drool, Y/N. You’re seeing things.”

You fake frown, bringing her closer to you. “Such a horrible thing to say to your girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend?” she breathes, swollen lips parting like she’s aching to kiss you again.

“Your girlfriend,” you affirm, staring straight into her eyes.

You sunk more into becoming a demigod and all it got you was nightmares and a fear of sleeping. But the more you sunk into being her girl, the more you sunk into loving her and being loved.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from. Certainly not from her father. She didn’t learn to kiss your head from him. She didn’t learn how to hold you, how to call you hers, how to whisper in your ear from Ares.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from, but it’s good.

—-

SHOUTOUT TO clarisse “cause you’re my girl” la rue LOVE YOUR POSSESSIVE ASS!!!!!!!!

—-

clarisse when y/n smokes weed: oh so pretty……

clarisse when y/n can only fall asleep bc of her arms or her weed: my girl fr……..

clarisse when y/n: oh my wonderful perfect angel

—-

y/n: BITCH

clarisse: YOURE SO HOT FUCK

—-

where did clarisse get her weed from you may ask? me that’s where she got it from i ripped through the fabric of reality to give it to her to make this happen actually and you’re welcome

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[hyunjilicious]

[bang chan x reader] // [minho x reader]

Summary: this started out as a "how would bf!skz react to you saying 'it hurts' (or any variation of) during sex" but I got carried away and it turned into just plotless filth.. + writing this for more than 2 members in one night felt like cheating lol (SMUT) ~1k each

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m receiving)... face fucking basically, slapping, spanking, name calling (whore, slut..) + plus lowkey degradation, cum play/swallowing, tying ppl up (??? idk how else to say it sksksk), lowkey mean!Chan but like consensually lowkey mean!Chan, pain in the ass!Minho... I think this is everything? I don't know. Please let me know if I missed anything!! Also 18+ PLS!!! DNI OTHERWISE!!!!

Chan: 

I'm sorry, but you two already have a safe word so whatever you say besides that, is only going to be used against you. 

He'd have you pinned down into the mattress with only a pillow under your hips as he fucks himself relentlessly into you. Beads of sweat are rolling off his temples, the bed is shaking, the neighbors can definitely hear everything but still, he shows no signs of slowing down. His thighs are burning and he's almost out of breath, but with every thrust, he goes harder, deeper inside of you and very few things could make him stop at this point.

You don't even know anymore what it is - pain or pleasure, but taking into consideration your trembling legs and the way your cunt greedily swallows him whole every time he forces his cock inside, all you know is that you love it. Still, you're numb and overly stimulated at the same time, making that burning feeling between your legs, no matter how good, a little bit too much.

So you squint your eyes and hide your face down against the bed, scrunching the sheets into your fists as your moans turn into a cry. "Fuck-" you pant, "Fuck, it hurts, ah-"

Chan's thrusts slow down, but he's going just as hard and deep as he leans down to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you up with your back against his chest. "What was that?" he asks directly against your ear, "It hurts?"

Your back arches against him as you cry. "Yes.."

"Good" he breathes against your skin before pushing you back down against the mattress. "It's supposed to" 

This time, he lowers himself too so that you're now trapped between him and the bed, with no way to escape, and he thrives on knowing just how much you love that.

"Chan baby, please" you cry, your cheek pressed into the pillow as you have your head turned to the side.

His panting right above you, his face inches away from yours as his rugged and hot breath fans the side of your neck. "What is it, hm? Tell me, baby girl" he grins. 

"Please…"

"Please what?" he rasps as one of his arms snakes around your body to reach your clit. "Talk to me" he adds, placing a kiss on your shoulder before sinking his teeth into your skin.

Your eyes shut with an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure, but you manage to take a deep breath and open your mouth, however not much comes out. "Baby…" you cry.

"What is it, angel?" he chuckles, "Did I fuck you dumb already? Can't even form a sentence for me, my baby?"

You'd say something, the words are there, inside your head, but they're messy, flying around and neither of them agrees to go past your lips. So you just nod. Pathetically.

"My dumb, little girl" he coos while thrusting into you. "So drunk for my cock, aren't you? But you like it like that, just laying there while I have my way with you? Tell me"

Again, all you can do is nod. 

"Good, baby" he says and pushes the hair away from the back of your neck so he can kiss you, right before pushing himself back up again. "Make me cum, doll, come on" 

Not that you could answer, let alone actually move a muscle, but Chan doesn't care. He digs his fingers into your hips and guides your entire body up and down on his cock, all your weight as if nothing in his arms. He'll feel the burn tomorrow because right now, he can't stop for the world. 

Once he resumes his pace, hitting all the right spots at just the right angle, you barely manage to give him a warning before your legs start to shake. "God, I'm so close, so-" you pant, "Fuck"

"Cum for me" he urges you, "make a mess on my cock, princess, come on"

So intoxicated for him, from the way he held you to the literal feeling of every vein of his cock against your walls, your orgasm comes crashing down on you in waves. And yet, somehow, it wakes you up a bit.

"Chan" you extend an arm back towards him, "Stop, stop, stop, please!" Normally, those words wouldn't deter him, but your voice sounds serious enough for him to quirk an eyebrow. "Stop, please"

"What's-"

"Pull out please, I want you to cum in my mouth"

As if he wasn't close enough anyway, he had to take a moment to contain himself. His movements halt, for just a second, before he slowly and painfully pulls out. "Fuck, I thought something happened, but you're just a fucking slut for me"

You proudly nod and then feel yourself get yanked to the side, falling back onto your back, as Chan settles with his knees on either side of your head.

He's pumping himself into his hand, and you take that as the biggest insult in the world - when your perfectly good mouth is just inches away? Without hesitation, you swat his hands away and push yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around his head. 

A hiss of relief breaks from his throat before he fists your roots into his own hand. He's guiding your movements, fast and shallow, until he looks down to meet your eyes and knows he can push further. Next thing you know, he's leaning forward, prompting his weight on his free hand as his cock goes all the way down your throat, completely cutting off your air supply. 

Your arms are around his clenched thighs, your legs flailing around as you struggle against the tears in the back of your eyes, but it is very clear to the both of you who's going to win this competition. 

"Fucking made to take my cock down your throat, princess" he breathes, pulling out of your mouth and finishing himself off with his hand.

In a second, his cum lands on your tongue, your eyes on his' the entire time. He's all red, his hair is a mess - wet and curly, he can barely breathe and all the air in his lungs comes only in the form of the sweetest, most perfect moans. 

"Fuck, fuck-" he cries again as the last drops leak out of his tip. 

When he looks down, you're already swallowing his cum, and gathering with your fingers the mess he made on your cheeks, on your chin and on your neck. 

"Jesus-" Chan breathes out as he falls down next to you. With the last ounces of energy left in his body, he pulls you against him, his lips instantly finding yours. 

Earlier, you could taste yourself on his cock. Now, he can taste himself on your lips. And neither of you wants to stop. 

Minho:

This man is kinky. He knows everything and owns every sex toy. Every other week he comes up with new things to try, he's extremely careful, incredibly good with communication and always knows what he's doing. Despite all of this, pain is never the focus. He doesn't get off on pain, it doesn't matter that it's a completely safe and controlled environment, pain - in whatever shape or form, has no place during sex. He'd much rather over-stimulate you, not let you cum, hear you cry and beg for him, and every time you do something that could potentially hurt, like slapping or pulling your hair, he knows your limit very well and never crosses it. HOWEVER. However, everything adjacent to actual sex, is a whole different story. He'll take advantage of your low pain threshold and just use it in his favor. 

One day, he's on top of you, working his expert knots around your wrists as he ties your arms to the bedpost. "Ouch-" you flinch, "That hurts a bit"

"What?" he looks down at you, faux worry on his features. He knows very well what you're doing. "Is it too tight, doll?"

You just nod.

"I'm sorry" he grins and pulls on the rope, harshly securing your hands into place. "Nothing I can do about that"

Or. He's sitting at the edge of the bed, with you sprawled across his lap. He's still fully clothed while you're completely naked, ass already red and covered in his hand prints. 

"God, Minho, it hurts!" you whine, turning around to grab his hand and stop him from continuing.

"Well, it hurt me too" he swats your hand away and leans down on his elbow to be at the same level with you. "How do you think I felt when you came from that vibrator only? My dick wasn't even out of my pants yet. It hurt me, doll"

"You put the vibrator there!" you try to counter but he settles back into his spot and shuts you up with another rough slap against your already sore buttcheek. "Fuck!" you cry out in defeat, little giggles escaping your lips before you manage to hide your face into the sheets.

"You promised you wouldn't cum. It's not my fault"

"I promised I'd try!"

"You're a strong woman, Y/n, you can do anything you set your mind to" he chuckles as he spanks you again, taking the time to enjoy your whimpers before continuing. "I think you just didn't try hard enough. Or maybe you did it on purpose"

"Oh, for fuck's sake" you cry, but the simple fact that you can't manage to hide your amusement makes your words mean absolutely nothing to him. So he goes again, slapping your ass and also sinking his fingers into your already traumatized flesh. "Fuck, Minho, it hurts so bad!"

"What? This?" he laughs and spanks you again.

At this point, you're kicking your feet and hiding your face into the nearest pillow, yet still wiggling your ass in his face, clearly letting him know you haven't had enough yet.

"It's ok, doll" he cooes, and rubs his hand up and down your back. "I don't want to do this, you're making me do it. You just need to apologize to me"

"I'm sorry…"

"Look at me while you're saying it, baby" he demands.

You turn around a bit, just so you can see his face, but while you're almost entirely successful in hiding your amusement, Minho doesn't even seem to be trying. He's all a smile, very clearly enjoying this a bit too much. "I'm sorry, Minho, can you please forgive me?" you pout.

He thinks about it for a second and then grins, "No"

You're about to comment, but he spanks you again, so all you can do is whimper and rub your thighs together. "Please, I'm begging you!"

"If you so badly want me to stop, why is your cunt so wet, hm?" he asks, trailing his fingers up and down your opening a few times before shoving his fingers inside you with absolutely no warning.

Moaning, and trying to grind your pussy back against his hand, you hide your face into your shoulder and mumble "From the vibrator"

You have no idea if he heard you or not, but you know damn well he'd never let that kind of sarcasm pass. 

"Y/n?" he calls, twisting his fingers inside of you and stretching your walls.

"Yes"

"Are you going to be whore for me and cum on my fingers, baby?"

"Can I?"

"Of course you can" he nods and picks up his pace, knowing very well how close you were to a second orgasm. "But I hope you know that I'm still going to fuck you afterwards, will you be able to take it?"

You try to whimper something, but all that comes out is just a little moan.

"You sure, doll?" he asks, pressing his thumb against your clit as he starts pumping his fingers into you harder and faster. "Three rounds? Isn't that too much for your little cunt?"

"Nuh-uh"

"Nuh-uh, what? Use your words, baby"

"No," you swallow, "It's not too much… please"

"Please? Please what?"

"Please fuck me, Minho"

"Well if you ask so nicely…"

#bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #bang chan smut #lee know smut #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz smut #minho x reader #minho smut #minho imagine

[c4qwp]

felix catton x fem!reader

| you understand.

📎 tags : angst, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix be i'm such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, felix being a bit annoying but also a cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned, angst asfff

📎 author's note : don't hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn't my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

you would have seen it coming.

"i think we should break up."

so faint and uncertain, barely more than a whisper.

he looked uncomfortably hunched over, his forearms resting on the table, his breakfast untouched, like he was trying to make himself smaller than you, which was ironic considering you envied his nerves of steel, and of course he was smaller than you shorter It was a very embarrassing moment for a handsome man, but not this kind of moment. Never this weakness.

although the winter sun shines through the windows, the kitchen is still dark and the unpleasant feeling of unusual transparency is almost suffocating. felix isn't the type to get flustered in public, which makes you even more nervous, just when you think you've had all the training you need to imagine scenarios and possible breakup possibilities in every direction.

he didn't dare look at you, shaking his head nervously, choking silently. "say something."

howfunny that he's the best thing you know and can lift you up with one arm effortlessly — his biceps are literally the size of your head, but he says if anyone touches him, he'll cry right now.

It's also a hard pill to swallow, and it's not true that you did this to him, weakening him. you didn't know you had that much power over him yet; and he said he wanted to break, but if he actually said he did, he'd throw up. you shifted in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digging into your skin as your body became hyperaware of everything around you, turning your attention away from felix and crossing your hands in your lap.

the answer is on the tip of your tongue, where it has been hidden for months. of course you let him go, and what makes it easier is accepting his warning that half the things about him will be absent and secret, or knowing from the start that your time with him will be limited.

you just don't hesitate; completely overcome the first four stages of grief and begin to accept with ease.

felix catton was essentially ephemeral, either a dreamer or a visible absentee in the present moment of your life. you think of him as an outside cat who was never yours to begin with, appearing randomly and unwittingly when he wanted, a flighty, mysterious companion who was happy and eager to be around.

you don't know if he loves you so much. everyone loved felix. everyone wanted to be around him. the love was there, enough to last a long time, but you thought it was because you were secure and stable.

you were glad you gave him that, if only because you honestly weren't sure what he saw in you.

what was going on was easy enough to experience and because of that you didn't allow yourself to get too attached to him because you knew he didn't love you as much as you loved him. maybe you're kidding yourself, maybe you're sleepy and not as cool as you thought, but you're convinced that's the way it should be, the way it should be.

what's the point of realizing your name isn't at the top of his list?

are you even were you good enough for him? a feeling of insecurity has been itching you for a long time. you may have been beautiful and intelligent, but were you the first in his eyes?

you can't ever be mad at him. you wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. felix is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-brown hair doesnt shine like it usually does. he hasn't gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days because of his family's issues. time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his pub. wearing a white shirt, he looked very casual and didn't seem to beg to be singled out. feel sorry for him.

"alright."

he snapped his head up, his eyes immediately meeting yours, and they were no longer blank. he looked unsure if he had heard correctly and had a look of disbelief on his face. "wait what?"

your fingers traced the rim of your teacup, mimicking felix's eager movements. "you can start packing today, but if you want to stop today, i don't mind..."

"no, wait-"

"i said yes, felix."

he frowned at the name, his eyes looking away from you for a moment, and he had to blink, and you thought that not having your usual nickname had hurt him. He had to swallow before he could speak.

"and that's it?"

you don't know if this is an attempt to end your relationship or if you want to let him go easily. you do not get it. what can you say.

"what do you want me to say?"

he sighed, looked away, wiped his forehead with his hand and covered his eyes. yes, not that your hopes are in vain. you have to say no.

he's as handsome as ever, but of course he'll want to know how comfortable you are, and he won't appreciate it when he changes his design. "i heard and will agree so we co—"

"aren't you mad at me?"

this is really what he thought first?

"i don't want to get upset."

"why...?"

"well, ..." because you love him, but talking about him will make it harder.

"i'm not sure. but we are both adult and need to talk like one. i think you and i have been very good together all along. I'm not mad at you for anything. understand."

he had such a subtle, sarcastic look on his face that if you were a complete stranger you would have thought it was sarcasm, but you knew better. He insulted himself. you can read it. but you should think about it. you should be mad at him. why the fuck is he upset. things about felix seem too good to be true, his only flaw is that he is a literal playboy. but of course stopped all his relationships with other girls, right?

"don't you want to know the reason? i mean, my god, why are you taking it so passively?"

"what do you mean?"

it's hard for you too.

"how can you not be so affected?"

"It's not like that. If you want to break up, i can't make you stay, or do anything you don't want to do. that's not fair to any of us. you will be with someone you don't want, and i would know im with someone who doesn't want me."

he shook his head, brown hair framing his face, which floated gently in the air. when he strongly disagrees

with something you say, but decides to say no at the last minute, he'll furrow his brows in anger and you'll feel a little disappointed because he's not denying that he doesn't want you. "you're always doing that, you're always doing that..getting mad. you must be mad at me."

"felix. I'm just tired of all this. you want to beak up and i said yes."

he just said, "I'm sorry,"

he hated it, that was all he had to offer you, and it showed on his face. sit in the chair next to him, you both need some good communication privacy right now. "but i have plenty of time to cry, okay?

"it's not like i'm accepting it or being negative or anything... and"

"grieving?"

his eyes search yours for a moment, the realization making him gasp and his eyebrows raise, making him look younger and more innocent.

looking forward to it.

"yeah, i mean.." pressing your lips together.

"look at us. in the long run, this doesn't work. It's not real. i don't know how we got here."

his pupils swallowed all the blue in his eyes, and he had never looked at you with such hostility until the hair on your arms stood up. "did you just think about breaking up?"

"why are you mad at me now? what have I done? you're the one who broke up with me."

"you weren't happy at all. haven't you always been sure?"

"i was and i still am. it's just...you've changed, felix. you're not looking at me like before. i don't know if it's because of me that you've changed but i was here for you every single time. but no mister doesn't want to talk so go to the pub and come back all drunk and doesn't give a shit about me. so yeah i was confused about a time and wasn't sure."

his eyes were finally on you. he called your name, repeated it. "i'm so sorry, love. i'm so-"

"no felix. i'm tired. so please leave me alone for a time and let's talk an other time."

there was a blank of 2 minutes. as you wanted to say another word,

"i understand."

#jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x fem! reader #angst

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & THEM BEING YOUR ROOMMATES .

characters. xiao kaeya diluc childe itto alhaitham kaveh x reader genre. romantic fluff, can be seen as platonic too, suggestiveness in itto's part an. ueueue... ueueue... ueueue | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

disappears during the day, comes back at night. your first text to your friend (when you arrived at the apartment) was "this guys like a midday batman kinnie lol" but he also somehow leaves everything spotless?? xiao barely spends time at home but in the five minutes that he actually does, all the dishes are washed and everything packed up... you're starting to think that he's a mary poppins kinnie instead

kaeya

he's a mess.. also kind of a slut at home in the sense that he unbuttons his pants the minute he steps through the door but his shirt is always long so. so. yeah. tbh he's not a very messy roommate, he just ends up leaving too many glass bottles behind that you have to clean up #notaslay #pickupyourowntrash #savetheearth

diluc

very nice roommate, adelinde comes over to clean the apartment once a week and when she does you literally go puppy eyed because she brings her cooking for the both of you. the fridge is always stocked with mama adelinde's food and the floors are always shining with her hard work. diluc does some of the dishes though i guess that counts

childe

good roommate. with his numerous siblings, he knows how to get stains and stuff off surfaces so hes the handy manny and bob the builder in the apartment. need something fixed up? he's got you. lightbulb has to be changed? he's reaching for the toolbox. your clock broke? can he fix it? yes he can

itto

worst. roommate. ever. every day you come home to find out that either he's a) passed out on the couch b) broken something at home c) had a secret arataki gang meeting and now the place is trashed d) didn't do his work etc etc the list goes on. you're considering kicking him out at this point but his badonkahonkas are so nice to look at ykwim

alhaitham

uhhhhh takes care of finances and taxes and all that boring adult stuff you have to do but alhaitham graciously does for you. makes you a cute little keyring that matches his and kaveh's and he doesn't hide yours!! or take yours!! 10/10 roommate, laugh at kaveh's misery together #youwillwalkalone jk you love kaveh to bits

kaveh

being roommates with him and alhaitham is genuinely so entertaining bc its a free reality tv show. "kaveh what is this behaviour" "im sorry i kicked it by mistake" <- he did not. but you and kaveh also play pranks on alhaitham to i guess that makes up for it?? idk kaveh does the dishes makes the food hashtag malewife i think

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiy @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @lemonswriting @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @niiheng @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @ineshapanda @babypetuniaa (send ask to be added to taglist)

#astronetwrk #xiao x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #itto x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #xiao fluff #kaeya fluff #diluc fluff #childe fluff #itto fluff #alhaitham fluff #kaveh fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #[📝 stewardess' notepad!]

[futurecorps3]

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

#kaz brekker #six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows x reader #grishaverse x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fic #kazbrekker #kaz x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker oneshot #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lanstov #prince nikolai #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov smut #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lanstov x reader #grishaverse oneshot #grishaverse headcanons #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse imagines

[venusbby]

haiii idk if ur doing rq but-

can u pls do bllk bois with their kids and wife🙏maybe them attending a game or going out and the public/media recognises them or something and blah blah blah they become the talk of the town cuz of their resemblance or something like that🤷‍♀️idk just a suggestion, it's entirely up to u. i just want some fluffy family moments😭

do whoever u want and can, and it's a-okay if u can't or don't wanna do it😭👍

p.s if u end up doing it can u pls give the kids names🥹

ok i'll stfu now🫶

family time !!

🍂 characters/pairings: itoshi sae, mikage reo, itoshi rin x reader (seperate ofc)

🍂 warnings: ages of the kids are not specified (sorry idk how kids work sorry), nicknames like "ma" and "mommy" and "mom" used for reader, sae is the best hubby ever, reo is spoiling his daughter left and right, rin almost curses (almost!!), mention of paparazzi in rin's part, reader tears up a little at the end of rin's part (not angst, don't worry)

🍁 note: here u go anon!!!! im so so so sorry for making you wait for so long. your idea was adorable!!! i hope this makes up for it <3333 thank you for requesting. also i don't know the first thing about kids. like i genuinely don't know what 7 year olds are like. its so funny. pls help anyways enjoy

🍁 what would it be like to have a family with.... ITOSHI SAE?

"kenji, let's stay quiet."

"but... why? it's morning."

"because your mom is sleeping, and we shouldn't disturb others when they're sleeping."

oh, how difficult it was to keep your lips pressed in a straight line and keep your breath steady— when you could clearly feel two pairs of eyes on your sleeping form. sleeping on your side while facing these two was such a challenge.

sae's voice was incredibly low as he spoke to your son, words coming out raspy from how hard he tried to avoid waking you up. the constant shuffling of your son in the middle of the bed made your hands itch with the urge to ruffle his hair, even when your eyes were closed.

you felt another shift, this time a gentle finger pushing away a strand of your hair behind your ear. you'd recognise the touch anywhere, anyhow.

"ma is really pretty." you heard kenji mumble quietly. (that too at the softest volume ever, because he listens to his father and definitely wouldn't want to interrupt your sleep.)

"she is very pretty," sae sighed, staring at your relaxed face, eyes trailing from your eyelashes to your slightly parted lips as you breathed out. "she works hard for us every day, you know?"

your eyes slightly shifted once he said that, and you hoped he didn't notice.

you heard kenji whisper to his dad. "she's not really sleeping, is she?"

he whispered back to him. "nope, we will just wait until she gives up."

you fluttered your eyes open right after. your son giggled loudly and flung himself in your embrace, dragging the sheets underneath his body along with him. sae usually made the bed afterwards, anyway. "i knew it!"

"good morning, ken." you softly kissed the top of his head, flattening down the wild strands of red hair that became messy due to his weird sleeping positions. while your son gave you a very cheerful 'good morning' back, your gaze shifted towards your husband, who was already staring at you with his lips pressed in a line which almost looked like a small smile. "good morning, sae."

"good morning. we are too smart to fall for your tricks, just so you know." sae took your hand, pressing his lips against your soft skin. "did you sleep well?"

you nodded with a sleepy smile on your face. kenji whipped up his head from your chest to look as well, and he smiled too when he realised that you had gotten the rest you deserved after your long family trip yesterday.

sae calmly shifted out of the bed. he stretched, muscles still sore from how long he had to drive the previous day. he looked back at the cute sight of the two most important people in his life, eyes softening. "hey, ken. why don't you help me cook something for ma? you know what she likes for breakfast."

"i know, let's go!"

you watched sae quietly leave the bedroom with your excited son running after him, right on his footsteps, your heart swelling with love and your face bright with a smile.

for you, this is the best way to wake up.

🍁 what would it be like to have a family with... MIKAGE REO?

"baby, are you ready yet?" reo asked.

"almost! are you both already done?"

once you wore your earrings, you swiftly turned to look at reo standing in the bedroom's doorway along with your daughter.

as expected, they were completely ready, with reo in his casual (yet obviously expensive) clothes, your lovely daughter wearing a dress which reached below her knees.

a dress that you certainly don't remember buying for her.

your eyes shifted towards the culprit.

"sora, baby, who got you this dress?" your voice was soft, yet your eyes still stayed on the male who didn't show an ounce of guilt on his pretty face.

she noticed your behaviour and sheepishly pointed to her father, her giggles barely contained.

"okay, i did.. just an hour ago." reo admitted, then looked down at sora, a pout on his face. "you promised you wouldn't say anything!"

she shook her head, running towards you. with heels on, you felt so much taller, and your little kid felt so much tinier. you lifted your hand up for a high five, which was returned by sora immediately. "that's my girl."

reo's pout deepened. he walked towards you too. "hey, i deserve a high five too, sora. didn't i play with you while your mommy was busy getting ready?"

you rolled your eyes playfully, making sure your daughter didn't see. she was in her mimicking age at the moment, you would regret it if she rolled her eyes at any and everything you or your husband said.

reo leaned in for a quick kiss that you granted him, "you look beautiful. both of you do."

"you don't look too bad yourself," you mumbled, sending him a wink, which made his heartbeat speed up. even after all these years.

reo snapped his fingers as you all left the bedroom, gaining the attention of your daughter who was focused on fiddling with the material of your jeans. he asked her in hopes that she'd remember, "what are we going to do today?"

"the ball game!"

"it's... it's called football." reo chuckled at her cuteness, letting her tiny hand slip into his as he bent down slightly to carefully walk down the stairs with her. you followed after them, making sure to check that all the lights on the top floor were off before making it downstairs.

"yeah, football! you play that, right?"

"yes, i do! my sora is so smart!"

you smiled unknowingly behind them, noticing your husband's wide grin. you knew how much it meant to him when your daughter showed interest in football. although he wanted her to decide her own likes and dislikes, he wasn't going to let her inherit a company if she didn't want to— and yes, those thoughts are pretty early on since she's still a toddler, but you know that your husband overthinks. he just wants her to like football so she can have a hobby that she likes.

reo and sora continued to walk outside hand in hand, towards the parking lot.

you called out to your husband while checking the house once more, mentally going through the things you carried in your purse just in case you missed anything. "reo, you better not let her choose one of the cars by saying eenie meenie minie mo or else—"

"too late, our ride has already been chosen!" your husband yelled happily from outside, his laugh echoing loudly as you came outside to find your daughter already seated in her favorite car of the day.

"you are so in trouble," you shook your head as you made your way to the car together. your husband shrugged, "let her have some fun, babe. and i'm absolutely fine with being in trouble." he gave you one of those smiles, earning another eyeroll.

🍁 what would it be like to have a family with... ITOSHI RIN?

"why can't they just leave us the fu- leave us alone when we're with 'kio?" rin huffed, setting down his car keys on the coffee table as you entered the house. your son was already running up the stairs and into your shared bedroom to play with his toys while you and your husband lingered behind him.

"it's alright, rin. calm down." you spoke softly, patting him on the back as you went into the kitchen for a glass of water. he followed. "i just don't get it. we deserve privacy too."

"they weren't bothering us, you know that."

"...i know." he sighed.

"in fact, i just saw an article on the way home. people are going crazy because akio has your eyes, it's so funny." you tried to lighten the mood, succeeding when rin leaned in to look at the article on your phone that you showed him.

he sighed once again, eyeing the picture of the both of you walking on the street with your son in the middle, who had an excited smile on his face while he was looking at you. "he really does have my eyes. and your hair."

you hummed and caressed rin's cheek, soothing him with your quiet voice. "it's no big deal, baby. we can handle the paparazzi."

just then, your son was rushing down the stairs again, blooming with energy from the wonderful lunch you guys had half an hour ago. "i wanna go out again!"

you watched as rin made his way over to akio, seeing him bend down to come eye to eye with the child.

rin observed akio's eyes, finding the resemblance that the public was talking about. a feeling of pride took over his heart. he ruffled the boy's hair. "we will go out again tomorrow. wanna play in the pool for now?"

"only if mom comes too!!"

rin turned his head to look at you, raising his eyebrows in question. he smiled slightly when you nodded and walked towards them.

"of course i'll come! i just need to change. why don't you and your dad go ahead?" you cooed, admiring the two sets of teal eyes that stared at you with admiration and love, akio's being much rounder and bigger than rin's. your husband hummed in agreement.

"let's go, 'kio. i'll give you your favourite floatie."

your son followed after rin as they made their way towards the pool in the backyard, rin sliding the huge glass doors aside to let more of the warm sunlight in.

you knew the pool would calm both of the boys down. it had been a long time since you enjoyed some sun as well. you grinned to yourself as you made your way upstairs to change into some swimming-appropriate clothes, making sure to take some time in order to let akio have some son and father bonding time with his dad.

they were so identical. it was as if a piece of rin was present in akio, and a piece of akio was present in rin. both of them reminded you of each other.

once you came back downstairs, you quietly sneaked a glance towards the boys outside, hearing their muffled voices.

"oh, so you want to play like this?" rin said. the grin on his face made your eyes sting ever so slightly. he splashed some water towards your laughing son who waved his hands around to protect himself from the water.

this is exactly how you imagined rin to be a few years ago, and even though he didn't believe in himself much as a soon-to-be father that time— you knew he had found his safe place now.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock manga #blue lock headcanons #blue lock fluff #bllk #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae x reader #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo x you #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi x y/n #credits for the heart divider goes to @cafekitsune !!! <3

[jungkookschin]

not so bossy

summary: An irksome feeling infests Jungkook's system when his girlfriend lets him know that she can't meet up after not seeing him for three weeks. pairing: d1 soccer player!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff

author's note: idk anything about football/soccer and yes im american so i used the term soccer 🙄lolz, also i got some inspo hearing about these famous athletes and their gfs so i pulled this out of my ass. pls enjoy (or not)! ALSO IF U HAVE ANYTHING U WANT TO TELL ME AB ANY OF MY PICS PLS PUT IT IN THE ASKS (not replies) BC THIS IS A SECONDARY BLOG

“Just because I’m not some big shot D-1 athlete doesn’t mean that my life doesn’t matter,” you grimly convey, eyebrows furrowed in pure vexation whilst your pretty lips curl down in a frown.

Jungkook exhales slightly, his pointer finger and thumb coming up to massage his temples. “Y/N, that’s not what I meant and you know it-“

“Then what the fuck did you mean?” The rapidity by which you cut him off pierces his heart like an arrow, because he’s never witnessed you being so abrasive. It hurts him to know that he’s upset you- that his inconsideration induced such a crestfallen expression from his one and only girl.

“I just didn’t want you to meet up with that guy,” Jungkook quietly explicates, unable to adeptly convey what his true intentions were: that he just missed you and didn’t want you to hang out with some other guy, even if it was just to study.

A scoff escapes your mouth, your obsidian orbs glaring bullets into him. “Jungkook, we were studying. It was for school. You of all people should understand that,” you sneer, your harsh words making his heart drop, the unpleasant feeling of guilt infesting his system, because he knows you’re right. Knows he’s been a shitty fucking boyfriend. Knows that you’ve been nothing but understanding, that you've been his personal angel ushering heaven to him, a task you accomplished everyday of every second.

Jungkook’s reticent silence tells you everything you need to know. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day,” you murmur quietly, though loud enough to make the words thunder in his heart. You turn your heel to walk away from him, your arms securely hugging your textbook to your chest, as if you were subconsciously shielding yourself from him. He hates that so much.

Jungkook stands frozen, unable to chase after you like he wants to. His heart is screaming at his brain make his motor system send his body after you..Instead, your figure disappears into the crowd of students flooding the hallways and he’s left there with regret plaguing his system.

How did this even happen?

Jungkook vividly remembers that dreadful text message you sent whilst he was on the bus, heading back from fall training camp.

y/n ♡: hi baby, im so so sorry. i dont think i can make it to our date tonight. this senior in my class asked me if i wanted to join a study group with him and i want to go so i do good on my final :( sorry baby.

Jungkook's lips immediately curl down at the message. Despite quite literally sharing an apartment together, he hadn't physically seen you or touched you in three weeks. With travelling out of town for a tournament for a week, and his two week long training camp immediately proceeding the tourney, he hadn't gotten the chance to come home and see you. Your absence had a deep and profound effect- he had to drown himself with intense physical training to distract himself from the fact that you weren't around.

Jungkook is a D-1 soccer player- one of the best in the nation- predicted to be one of the top picks in the first round of the Major League Soccer super draft. He takes his craft very seriously, centers most of his attention on his body and mind to refine his physical ability and ultimately become one of the best soccer players in the world. Since high school he often opted for a nasty gym session over a party, admiring Messi and Ronaldo over pretty girls, and even went to his club soccer tournaments over attending prom.

That was- until he met you.

The university you and Jungkook attended was widely renown for its impeccable soccer program- and computer science program. By God's grace was he assigned to you for a group assignment freshman year. Your face was slightly flushed when you kindly uttered "Hey, I know you're a huge athlete or something, so I don't mind carrying the project if you have to focus on sports." In reality, your intentions were selfish, solely concerned about your own grades and how this group project may cause them to fall, but Jungkook still thought it was the cutest thing ever.

He appreciated the consideration, but gently let you know that he was certainly able bodied and willing to complete the assignment. Had you not been so pretty, if the way you pushed your glasses up your face not been so adorable, he would have gladly taken the offer, not being quite privvy to anything academic related.

But you were arguably the cutest girl he's ever seen, so he was willing and eager to put in the effort.

Feelings blossomed, cavernous eyes gazed into each other and Jungkok kissed you for the first time. Seeing that you enthusiastically reciprocrating his energy, Jungkook took it as a sign that he scored the girl of his dreams. Group projects lead to late night calls and incredibly vulnerable talks in his car, then arcade dates to salacious movie nights. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend with a bouquet of the most delicately beautiful roses you've ever seen.

Jungkook thanked God everyday for your naturally compassionate nature, and for when you assuaged all his dreadful anxieties about not be an adequate and involved boyfriend. You understood that the nature of your relationship with him would not always be the most attentive- that he had no choice but to sort of neglect you when he had to travel over state and country borders for the sake of his athletic career.

You understood it and you whole heartedly offered your bona fide support.

You appeared at his games with cute red bows binding the curls in your hair, his oversized red jersey thrown perfectly over your precious abdomen. His perfect cheerleader, his number one motivator- and his teammates certainly appreciated you because he performed better when you were in the stands oggling at him with your starry eyes. He had to play better when his girl was in the crowd.

When you weren't able to be physically present at his games, you sent him the most adorable selfies of you streaming the game on your TV, laptop, or phone, going the extra mile to snag a selfie whilst Jungkook was in the frame of your device.

It really is common knowledge that Jungkook adores his girlfriend. In fact, anybody can tell by looking at the measly three photos on his verified Instagram account (courtesy of the NCAA). There was one photo of Jungkook and his teammates from a few years ago, all men have their hands on their cut and bruise heavy knees. They've got gold medals around their necks, ginger smiles on their faces after winning some summer league tournament.

The second photo was from last year when the men's soccer team at your university won the NCAA Division 1 Men's Soccer tournament, and rather than a photo with his teammates, there is one of him and you. Jungkook who was drenched in sweat from an intense yet rewarding game has his hands wrapped around your waist in the photo, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your cheek whilst you smile gleefully. His gold medal is adorned around your neck, resting on your chest rather than his. The caption reads "scored the winning goal for my number one girl", and the comments are permeated with "awwws" and "how cute!" Of course, you are slightly suspicious of the genuiniety of those comments since most of them are from girls who have a crush on him. How do you know that? You just do, consider it girlfriend intuition.

The most recent photo is simply a gorgeous photo of you at dinner. It was from his point of view- his prettiest view when you were sitting across from him enjoying your steak in a strapless black mini dress. In the photo your french manicured fingers are gripping your wine glass, the stain of your lipstick visible at the edge of the cup. The expanse of your neck is visible, making your aura all the more alluring. Your hair is in a sleek bun with the exception of the face framing pieces that dangle on the sides of your face.

You remember that day, Jungkook looked so dashing in his black button up and slacks, and when he presented you with another bouquet of red roses you melted since they were the same flowers he asked you to be his girlfriend with.

The caption is simply a black heart.

Jungkook shuts his phone off and throws it on his bed, hands rubbing his face as he groans into his palms. After you told him not to speak to you for the rest of the day, he meandered back to your shared apartment, earnestly anticipating your return home. The intoxicating scent of your vanilla body spray fills the room, making him all the more miserable.

He knows that he wasn't giving you the attention necessary in maintaining a healthy relationship, that he wasn't amply putting his share into it, but his mind was so trained on soccer that it hadn't occurred to him to check on up on you. He winces at a certain memory where he was so entranced in practicing penalty kicks that he completely forgot about your date at the pumpkin patch. He went home wondering where you were, and his heart dropped when you marched into the home, slamming the door and refusing to speak to him. After profusely apologizing and making it up to you, you later forgave him and everything returned to its usual nature.

But this time was different, because it is 2AM, and you're still not home, causing Jungkook to fall deeper into his despondency.

He spammed you with so many pleading text messages, his eyes scanning over each and everyone as his thumb scrolls further and further to the history of your shared messages.

[2:52 AM] jungkook: y/n baby im so anxious right now. please let me know where you are. i wont go to bed unless i know that you're safe. you don't need to come home or talk to me, just send me your location so that i know you're okay. im so sorry and i love you so much.

As his thumb scrolls up, his texts from earlier in the night appear.

[11:38 PM] jungkook: baby where are you? im starting to get worried about you. please come home.

[9:12 PM] jungkook: my love, the food is getting cold. if you come home we can still enjoy a meal together.

[8:24 PM] jungkook: baby, i know you're upset at me. please let me make it up to you. i cooked your favorite meal, and we can eat together once you get home. i'm here waiting for you.

A soft exhale leaves his lips, his thumb scrolling all the way back to the same stupid argument that triggered all of this.

y/n ♡: hi baby, im so so sorry. i dont think i can make it to our date tonight. this senior in my class asked me if i wanted to join a study group with him and i want to go so i do good on my final :( sorry baby.

When Jungkook first received the first message, it inevitably upset him. A grimace on his face and the furrow on his eyebrows indicated as much. He missed you so much and was looking forward to seeing you so fucking badly. He longed to feel your body against his, the thought of you keeping him up all of last night. He missed your pretty face, the vanilla scent of your soft hair, and the way you made him feel so complete. So, of course he's upset. The first thing that caught him off guard was that you were cancelling on him after three weeks apart. The second thing that caused a deeper furrow in his brows was irksome personal pronoun: him.

Were you really going to ditch him to hang out with some guy? He was trying to be understanding considering the rigor of the university's computer science program- and wanted you to do everything you could to maintain your perfect grade point average. Nonetheless, he was already pouting at the announcement of your absence.

jungkook: him?? who's this senior?? and are u sure u guys cant reschedule?? miss my girl too much

y/n♡: i miss u too, im so sorry,, it's just that this code is really fucking hard and jaebum offered to help so obvi i accepted lol

Jungkook's concern morphs into unamusement, because he is very familiar with this motherfucker. He sighs deeply, reminiscing when his teammate Hoseok approached him and informed him about a certain Jaebum making inappropriate comments about his girlfriend. Not inappropriate as in sexual, grotesque, or expletive. Had that been the case Jungkook would have beaten the shit out of the guy and risked playing the next season. The type of inappropriate Hoseok intended to express was that Jaebum was going around calling you cute- you, a girl who clearly was not single. Jungkook never explicitly told you about this, not really concerned that it would have a significant impact on your very healthy relationship, but it still displeased him.

He wasn't able to constrain his words, mentioning something when he witnessed Jaebum clearly flirting with you when he picked you up from class.

"Jungkook don't worry," you giggled. "He's just a senior in my class- he's really smart so he was giving me some homework advice."

Jungkook tensed at that. "Alright babe, just be careful."

After that, Jaebum really wasn't ever mentioned or considered. He fully trusted you so Jungkook wasn't worried, until at that very moment.

jungkook: babe

jungkook: i thought we already talked about this

jungkook: that guy literally likes you

y/n♡: ewwww lol dont put that idea in my head😭 gross

jungkook: y/n, im serious

jungkook: he really does, i can tell when someone wants u its my boyfriend intuition

y/n♡: okay baby, and if he does??? u dont trust me??

jungkook: ofc i do, but it makes me uncomfortable to know that he invited you to a “study group” , who knows what he’s planning???

jungkook: who else is gonna be there??

y/n♡: it’s just gonna be us, but i promise u u dont have anything to worry about. uk how this class has been kicking my ass.. and jaebum is the only one with an a

Jungkook uses his pointer finger and thumb to massage his temples. The thought of you and this guy studying together enkindles something vile in his system, but nonetheless he chooses to trust you since he knows how important school is to you. However this irksome feeling bubbles in his chest, and he feels like has just has to do something about it.

The next message he sends is his last attempt to assuage the undeniable burning in his chest.

jungkook: i know, can i at least come with? to make sure he doesnt do anything weird?

y/n♡: i don't think it's a good idea. i dont want things to be uncomfortable

Jungkook scowls at that. Weird? Why would him tagging along be anything of the sort? More importantly, why were you choosing to protect Jaebum’s feelings over his?

jungkook: lmao uncomfortable? are u two planning to fuck on the table or something , why would my presence make things “uncomfortable”?

Jungkook winces when his eyes train on that very ill intended text message. He knows damn well he crossed the line with that one, but your response didn’t indicate that you were upset, probably dismissing it as one of his stupid jokes.

y/n♡: jeon jungkook🙄🙄

y/n♡: i’ll see u tonight at home baby💗💗

Jungkook knows he should have left it at that, but three weeks without having you with him were so excruciating, and he longed for you so so much. He loves being an athlete; he loves playing soccer, but the intense drills and back to back games have been agonizingly tough on his body that all he wanted was to cuddle up against you in your cozy and comfy bed. Maybe have a little movie night and give you a little massage though it was his muscles that were sore and tense. But no, you had to study with some slimy guy. Consider him salty.

When the bus dropped the men’s soccer team off on campus, he bid his farewells to his teammates, and for some strange reason his legs just start walking to the library. Huh, how strange. What an anomaly it was for his feet to randomly move by themselves!

He acts very nonchalant, hands shoved into his sweats whilst he wanders between the dozens of book shelves arrayed in the campus library. Nonetheless, his eyes are rapidly shifting toward every corner in the library, in hopes that he “accidentally” runs into you.

Jackpot.

You and Jaebum are sitting adjacent to each other at an occupied table, both of your eyes trained on your Macbook screen. Jungkook puts a hand on his chin, acutely scrutinizing the situation at hand. The distance of your chairs is quite satisfactory to Jungkook- not too close, but he would appreciate it if you were further away. Jaebum is very clearly giving you a lovestruck gaze, and when he scoots his chair closer to yours Jungkook narrows his eyes.

Jaebum is such a fucking weirdo, his hand creepily advancing towards yours that is resting by the keyboard, and you are so exceedingly focused on your screen that you fail to notice. You randomly remove your hand away from where it rests on the table, and scratch your head with it. Once you turn towards him, his close proximity startles you, and you jerk your chair back in the opposite reaction, the most mortified look on your face.

Jungkook isn’t the best at reading lips, but Jaebum is currently expressing something to you, the most awestruck look on his face and Jungkook scoffs at that, clearly understanding the situation. Without thinking he advances towards you, pulling your chair back with a tight grip whilst he looks daggers into the man. “Can you please stop hitting on my girlfriend?”

Your head whips around at the voice of your boyfriend, but it goes unnoticed by Jungkook whose attention is soley on the man.

Jaebum scoots his chair back a little bit, scratching his head. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girlfriend-“

And before Jungkook can interject you speak up. “I’ve told you many times that I have a boyfriend- and quite frankly I’m appalled that you’re trying to make a pass toward me when we agreed that we would be studying,” you say firmly which induces a goofily proud smile to appear on Jungkook’s face.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I-I just really like you and didn’t know how else to talk to you," Jaebum elaborates in attempts to elicit some sort of sympathy from you. His attempt is entirely futile, and you ask him to leave, already vexxed by his inappropriate shot at making a pass at you.

You begrudgingly saunter behind Jungkook, the two of you leaving the library. Jungkook, who is acting under the assumption that you are annoyed by Jaebum, reaches out for your hand, falling into confusion when you rip your hand away from his.

"Babe?-" his eyes round, uneasy at your dissonance.

You exhale deeply, eyes apprehensively glancing around at anybody who may be eavesdropping. "Why the fuck did you follow me?" you whisper shout at him, hands thrown down petulantly.

"I was worried about you," he clarifies, not even bothering to claim that it was a mere coincidence. "And I missed you so much," his tone glosses over softly. He steps forward to embrace you, and the air shifts once you put your hands on his chest and push him away from you.

"Jeon Jungkook, I clearly told you that I would see you at home," you stonely enunciate.

Irritability spreading throughout his system, he scowls. "It was killing me to think about you being alone with this guy when I was missing you so much, and I told you that he liked you but you didn't listen-"

"I admit I was wrong about that, but I am also perfectly capable of handling myself." You hesitate momentarily, gathering the words before spitting them out hastily. "I think you've made it pretty clear that you don't trust me- which is seriously fucked up."

"What's fucked up is that you were hanging out alone with a guy who clearly likes you! You haven't seen your boyfriend in three weeks and chose to spend your time with some guy rather than with me!" Jungkook fires back, attracting some concerned glances from bystanders.

His postulation enrages you. "Need I remind you why I haven't seen you in three weeks?" you sarcastically inquire, eyebrows creasing in awe at the audacity of this man.

"Babe, I have to leave for soccer, you know that, so don't weaponize it against me," he coldly says, and really, all his words do is spread the indignation through your veins like a wildfire.

"I have never weaponized soccer against you, so don't you dare put fucking words in my mouth," you hiss, giving him the dirtiest look he's ever seen from you.

"I have been nothing but supportive of you. Never said shit when you're out there with a bunch of cheerleaders who like you, and with your teammates that fucking cheat on their girlfriends with those cheerleaders! Yet the moment that I prioritize my academic career over you, you pull some weird shit as if you can't trust me!" you finish, your ice colds words leaving Jungkook frozen as a sculpture, as if nitrogen replaced his blood because he realizes you're right. If he ever spend a moment in your shoes, he would lose his goddamn fucking mind because of his naturally possessive and overprotective nature.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I was trying to say," Jungkook clumsily tries to salvage himself. "I appreciate you so much for always being there for me and when I go pro I'll make it up to you. You'll be my soccer wife, and we'll have a mansion with our kids- I'll buy you whatever you want," he conveys, his feeble attempt of sewing together the cuts of the situation.

Instead of a commiserating look, you give him a look that tells him you're even more irritated.

"That's not the point! You don't get that I don't want my identity to be just Jeon Jungkook's soccer wife. I want to be my own person, have my own successful career," you frustratedly communicate. "Why do you think I'm trying so hard in this stupid fucking coding class? Because I didn't want to see you? I always want to see you, but I have to make sacrifices too. The class average is 56 and Jaebum is the only one with an A, but my life isn't as important as yours so you don't want to be sympathetic of my feelings." You finish, cooling off once you've exploded at him.

Jungkook rips away eye contact with you, looking towards another direction, feeling slightly chagrined at your legitimate display of vexation. "I guess your studying didn't seem as important to me at the time," he abashedly murmurs.

“Just because I’m not some big shot D-1 athlete doesn’t mean that my life doesn’t matter," is how you retort, leaving the situation full circle.

Now, it's 3 AM, and you're still not home. Jungkook feels himself falling into a pit of dilapidation and guilt, feeling so remorseful of how shitty he's been. You truly are his super woman, because he's positively sure that he wouldn't be able to handle it if you did what he had to do on a regular basis. He couldn't even handle it when you were studying with another man, let alone travelling and leaving him at home by himself.

The apartment simply feels so empty, and it makes him feel all the more lonely. When he walks into your shared bathroom, his eyes glossing over your cosmetics and skin care products, he becomes absolutely miserable. Debilitatingly picking up your moisturerizer, he squeezes the bottle, product falling falling into his hand. He looks into the mirror and rubs the ointment into his skin, sighing exasperatingly because he wishes you were standing by his side.

The sound of the door suddenly creaks open, and Jungkook rushes into the living room thinking that you may have returned home. His face immediately falls when Jimin marches into his apartment.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook deadpans.

Removing his shoes at the front of the house, Jimin scoffs. "Why'd you leave your door unlocked at 3 AM?"

Jimin plops down at the dining table, picking at the food Jungkook meticulously prepared for you. "This shit is cold as hell," he mumbles before grabbing the plate and shoving it into the microwave. Jungkook doesn't say anything, just grinds his teeth whilst he lays down on the couch.

"Y/N's not home?" Jimin questions with a mouth full of steak.

"No," Jungkook quietly mumbles, dejected and losing hope that you would return home that night.

"I ran into her a few hours ago," Jimin states casually, causing Jungkook to robotically spring up like a zombie and join Jimin at the dining table. "Where?" Jungkook asks like a crazy man, eyes wide, his veins protruding through the whites in his eyes. Jimin gives his friend a distasteful look before protectively covering the food Jungkook made. Jimin analyzes the situation carefully before it dawns on him that you aren't around.

"She's still not home yet?" Jimin asks, concern spreading throughout his face.

"No," Jungkook squeaks out, discouraged by everything before he bangs his head on the dining room table.

"I ran into her at the mall," Jimin says, attempting to provide some comfort to his younger friend. "We looked around a little bit, but I had to go pick my brother up and then I dropped her off at the gym."

Jungkook pauses, owlishly blanking into space whilst he takes a few moments to fully comprehend what just zoomed past his ears. The sleep deprivation and exhaustion is seriously hindering his cognitive function, but he just can't sleep until he knows that you're safe. "Huh?"

Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes before repeating what he just said. He raises his palm to smack the back of Jungkook's neck, which elicits a gruesome glare from the younger one.

"I ran into your girlfriend at the mall. We looked at the dinosaur exhibit. I dropped her off at the gym," Jimin firmly enunciates.

Apparently this computes more briskly than the first time. "The gym?" Jungkook asks, an amusing look of confusion hazed on his face.

"Yes," Jimin replies, frowning at Jungkook's sluggish responses.

"She went by herself?"

"I don't know," Jimin responds, a hinge of more empathy in his voice. "She said something about a personal trainer but I have no clue what she was doing."

An exasperating sigh leaves Jungkook's lips, too much information for his fatigued brain to compute. He didn't even know you had damn personal trainer- you don't even need a fucking personal trainer when your boyfriend is one of quite literally a D-1 athlete. It's not something he wants to even think about, the prospect of him being a shitty boyfriend plaguing his mind even more.

Jimin's eyebrows furrow in concern for his younger friend, and his hand gingerly pats his friend's rock hard back. "Do you want me to stay the night? Or stay at least until she gets back?" he suggests whilst the younger one buries his handsome face into his large palms.

"Please," Jungkook mutters.

Your unexpected entrance proves that Jimin's request was unecessary, because you casually waltz back into the apartment, making Jungkook practically whip his head towards the sound of the opening door.

"Jimin?" you jabber, a little startled at his unanticipated presence.

"Oh hey Y/N!" Jimin greets you more awkwardly than he ever has before, as if he interrupted something though he was there first. "How was the gym?" he releases a sheepish chuckle, and you internally cringe at his overt display of politeness.

"Oh, um. It was good. Are you planning on spending the night?" you ask, slipping your shoes off as you join the two at the dining table.

"Pshhh, no. Absolutely not! I gotta head home.." his eyes erroneously shift all over the room, poorly concealing how clearly he wants to leave. "Right about.." his head whips down at the non existent watch on his wrist. "Now!" He scoots the chair out and -for some reason- he tiptoes out of the house, bidding you and your boyfriend a farewell as he gently closes the comically creaking door.

You look towards your beloved, Jungkook looking dejectedly at his twiddling hands, avoiding eye contact with you. A soft exhale leaves your lips and you plant your palms on the table, getting up before you approach him. Even when he's sitting down at your wooden dining room chairs, he's only a little bit smaller than you- training and the gym have done him well. This profound emotion of tenderness rushes into your heart, and you bend down, placing a tentative and delicate kiss on his fragile cheeks.

"Wanna come with me to the bedroom?" you ask, gentleness lacing your voice at to hopefully assuage the vulnerability of the situation. It is undeniably true that you were upset- even livid at him, but after mulling it over you realized that he is your one and only. If anybody was deserving of your empathy, it was him.

You stride to the bedroom, settling down on the side of your bed with your big hunk of a boyfriend mimicing your actions like a little puppy.

"I made us bracelets," you blurt out hands digging into your pockets, before you pull out two identical bracelets dangling from your fingertips. The bracelets were childlike at best; you used black plastic beads and yarn, the same type of shit toddlers use in pre school when they learn how to do basic things like cut in zig zag lines. The bracelets are mostly made up of black beads, with a pink heart bead in the center of them.

Your fingers wrap around your boyfriend's larger hands, and you gingerly slide his bracelet on his dainty wrists. You suppose you overestimated the circumference of his wrist, because it hangs off his wrist like a necklace.

Jungkook still hasn't said anything, but finally looks up, and your eyes meet his glossy ones.

When you realize that he's crying, you hand cups his cheek, and you use your thumb to wipe the tears that cascade down his handsome face. "No no no," You're panicked at his sullen state. "Don't cry," you express desperately. "Please don't cry, I'm sorry."

Jungkook gazes at you so intimately and intensely, and he feels as if all his resolve breaks now that you are finally in front of him.

"I-I just didn't want to lose you," Anguish laces his voice, and he sounds so desperate that it makes it feel like your heart is being ripped into pieces. "Thought I was gonna lose you," he whispers, and you're compelled to just hug him- so you turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck, and his automatically snake around your waist, so naturally- like this action was done so out of muscle memory.

He holds you tightly, like he never wants to let go of you, of this. He holds you like he's found his sweet solace in your embrace. His neck finds comfort in the crook of your neck whilst he pours his emotions out into your honeydew skin.

"I can't believe you still love me."

"I can't believe you made me a fucking bracelet even after everything. You're so sweet, so perfect."

"I don't deserve you- you mean everything to me. I swear I'll make everything up to you, just give me one more chance."

You pull back at his words, a concerned haze painted on your face. You settle on your knees to meet him at equal eye contact. "Did you think I was gonna dump you?"

Jungkook tears away his eyes from yours. "I don't know. I thought you were getting sick of me- I guess," and the

You sigh, shifting your weight backwards so that your ass rests on your heels. You gnaw on your bottom lip, finding the right words to say. "Jungkook," you begin, conjuring the courage to verbalize everything you've been itching to say. "I... I have never loved anybody as much as I love you." You inhale, nostrils flaring slightly before you continue your somewhat clumsy attempt to bandage everything.

You speak very steadily so that he can fully digest what you are about to say. "And I don't love you because you're a soccer player, or because you're verified on Instagram, or because you're ESPN thinks you're going to be super successful. I love you because you're you."

Jungkook's undeniable heartbeat is pounding, so loud that he can hear it in his ears. Love. Your love is interpermeating his being, seizing control of him completely and fully. There are no words that can properly encapsulate how he feels. Just Love. Love times a million. "Y/N-"

"Just shut up and let me talk," you cut him off, preparing once again to regurgitate your feelings.

"I just love you so much, and because I love you, I would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship. You just have to trust me, even if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm an adult- I know what I'm doing."

Jungkook purses his lips perceptively, nodding ever so carefully at your simple yet overflowing explanation.

"It just hurts me that you felt like you couldn't trust me enough to be alone with him. I know I was wrong for not trusting you when you said he liked me, but even if he were to make a move on me, I would never reciprocate or encourage that behavior. I put so much trust in you, and I really want you to work towards putting that same trust in me. And.. I'm sorry for throwing a temper tantrum, I was just embarrassed I guess. "

Jungkook grabs your hand as if the moment is fleeting, his already soft expression softening impossibly more at the sincerity of your words. He holds your hand to his chest, and you can hear the rapid beating of his heart.

"I understand," he automatically expresses, which concerns you because his answer was almost too immediate. You're not sure if he's properly digesting what you are trying to communicate.

"I was just super frustrated- I missed you so much and thinking of you and that guy was killing me. I trust you, but what if he did something to you?" The disclosure of his authentic feelings relieves any doubts you had about the immediacy of his answer.

"Babe, I'm not an idiot," you reply. "I have a taser and it's not like we were in the woods in the middle of the night," you point out which elicits a soft chuckle from Jungkook.

"You're right baby, my girl's a genius," he leans in and presses a familiar and delicate kiss to your bottom lip, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. When he pulls away you're left with a lingering feeling of longing, and he beams at you.

"You just gotta be patient with me, but I swear I'll try to be less," Jungkook takes a moment to find the right word. "Overbearing."

You give Jungkook a pursed smile and nod your head. Before you can respond he presses another delicate kiss to your lips. Though the kiss is fleeting, it's as if your lips mold together perfectly because he knows you and your lips the best. "Thank you for being you," he presses his forehead against your, mumbling against your lips, the utmost sincerity in his voice. "I love you, so so much," he says, hot breath palpable against your lips. "Thank you so much for everything you do. Thank you for understanding, for loving me. You're just- just perfect, perfect for me. Made for me, and I love you so much." His emotions overwhelm him, and his eyes become glossy. "My love for you scares me. The thought of you leaving terrifies me so much, and if you did, I don’t think I would ever recover,” his words are delicate, fragile like he’s a butterfly that could fly away at any moment. It was up to you to keel him grounded.

You close your eyes, savoring the moment of him being so close. " 'm not going anywhere," you hum into his lips, and he sighs blissfully, snuggling more into your protective embrace.

That night, you fall asleep on his chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around you for the entirety of the night.

#jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook scenarios #soccerplayer!jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts jungkook drabbles #bts imagines #bts jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk fanfic

[cieloclercs]

what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 5/? (read part 4 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

pairing. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

warnings. it’s GROVELLING time !! sad charles, sad reader, swearing, everyone still kind of hates charles (as they should) angst but not quite as angsty as the last part

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. i hope this is enough suffering for you guys 😭 i’m weak tho so there’s a tinyyy bit of progress at the end 👀 i feel like this one’s a bit messy so i’m sorry about that?? it’s also kind of just setting up the next part but oh well 😭 anyways, LAST PART COMING UP NEXT ☹️ i’m gonna miss this series :’(

NOW PLAYING | Singapore 2023 post-FP1 interview: Charles Leclerc

COMMENTS 32k

username i’m still charles’ number 1 hater rn but he looked so sad at the end… ☹️

username girl no we need to be strong! don’t fall for the sad puppy dog eyes (i know he’s cute but srsly don’t) 🫠

username you’re right, you’re right 😔 haters until the end 🫡

username sir don’t try and blame your shitty mistakes on y/n 😭😭

username HE LOOKS SO SAD I CANT 🥲

username i really hope y/n sees this and realises he’s actually sorry

username no way that’s too easy. charles needs to apologise properly !!

username oh my GOD the way he started smiling when he said y/n is his ‘lucky charm’ AND THEN THE WAY IT DROPPED WHEN HE REMEMBERED THEY’RE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE IM GONNA SCREAM 😭😭😭💔💔💔

username charles do you see what you’re doing to us charlesy/n stans?? PLEASE JUST TELL HER HOW YOU FEEL FFS 😫

username i swear if these two don’t pull their heads out of their asses soon I WILL COMMIT MURDER

username so real bestie 😔

username it’s such an invasion of privacy to ask about this though 😭

username fr the press don’t know when to keep out of it 😒

username i think he knows he’s in love with her now, he’s just not sure how to fix things ☹️

username i’m scared this feels like right person wrong time you know? 😃

username don’t say that 🫣 i’m just praying y/n forgives him. as soon as he apologises properly ofc, can’t make it too easy for him mwahahah

username i want to keep hating him but i’ve never seen him look that sad 🥲

username CHARLES YOU DONT GET TO ACT LIKE THE VICTIM WHEN YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S CAUSED THIS

username so true. he needs to stop feeling sorry for himself and apologise 🙄

liked by yourfriend and 47,837 others

yourusername always on my mind ☁️💫

view all comments…

username SHE’S BACK IN MONACO GUYS EVERYBODY STAY CALM

username MOTHER HAS RETURNED !!!

username wait is that f1 she’s watching on her phone? 🤨

username omg it is 🤭

username SHE WATCHED THE RACE OMFG

username charles podium as well 😩😩

username it’s like he knew she was watching 🥹

username i hate how quickly everyone’s switching up on the charles situation just because of that interview but at the same time i can’t deal with my parents fighting anymore i need them to make up 😫

leclerc_pascale Bienvenue à la maison, ma fille ❤️ / welcome home, my girl

yourusername 🥰

arthur_leclerc YOU’RE BACK

yourusername did you forget? i literally saw you twenty minutes ago 😭

username the caption 🤔

username we can all agree she’s talking about charles, right?

yourfriend ma femme 🤩 / my wife

yourusername mon amour 😘

username she is everything.

username forget her art SHE IS THE ART RIGHT THERE

charles_leclerc belle / beautiful

username EXCUSE ME??

username SIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE PHAHAHA

username charles get tf out of here 😭

username i love how y/n’s just straight up ignoring him 😭

username CHARLES IS HERE GUYS HOW ARE WE FEELING

username i’m so conflicted rn

username like i want them to make up but at the same time he needs to SUFFER like he made y/n suffer

username fr, make him squirm a little 😌

username idk guys, if charles leclerc commented ‘belle’ on MY instagram, i’d be on my knees in an instant 🫣

username girl please 😭

username charles babe please go away you’re ruining the vibes x

username i swear to god if he’s here just to fuck with y/n’s head again i’ll fucking kill him

username he wouldn’t do that

username @charles_leclerc if you want to win her back this is NOT the way to do it

arthur_leclerc @charles_leclerc what did i tell you? 👀

username HAHAHA ARTHUR STOP

joris_trouche @charles_leclerc you should listen to our advice mate 😃

yourfriend @arthur_leclerc @joris_trouche shut up both of you 😒

joris_trouche yes ma’am 🫡

username they’re all ganging up on him 😭

liked by formula1updates and 9,736 others

f1gossip Charles Leclerc and Y/N Y/L/N spotted at the same night club in Monaco 👀

view all comments…

username OH MY GOD IS IT HAPPENING??

username there’s no way this is coincidence charles is boutta beg for forgiveness i’m calling it

username y/n’s actually smiling tho 😭 charles please don’t ruin it x

username we need y/f/n to scare him off before he can ruin her night 🤞

username AHAHAHA YES

username what i’d give to be in that club rn 😔

username fr y/n better be roasting him 😭

➜ part 6

taglist: @cxcewg @incoherenciass @formula1mount @allywthsr @meabhcavanagh @driveswiftly13 @zzblooda @gaslysainz @be-your-coffee-pot @siovhanroy

#request #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x fem!oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc twitter au #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #formula 1 au #f1 au #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic

[ofswordsandpens]

just finished episode 6…. truly don’t know how to feel about these changes. would love to know your thoughts bc i’m just kinda baffled by some changes tbh

Mixed feelings as always:

Percy's dream slapped. I loved Kronos's actor. It felt perfectly eery. No notes.

No percabeth late night convo on the truck. This doesn't surprise me given we sort of did that on the train already, but now there's just another iconic book moment that we'll get bits and pieces of, but never actually get to see in its entirety/original setting.

I did vibe with the glass prism tool for the iris message and it was pretty cool. The Percy + Annabeth argument was great but I'm gonna be honest, Luke being like "you're arguing like an old married couple" was laying it on a tad thick to me idk idk. I know I'll probably be in the minority there lol but I think it would have liked the line better if Percy and Annabeth got more embarrassed to his statement but they both reacted to it like :/ so it just felt heavy handed on the show runners part more than anything

Lotus Hotel vibes? Lackluster. Uninspired. It just didn't capture that outrageous paradise for kids feeling from the book because they turned it into Hermes' hangout so there's a whole bunch more adults than kids. Basically felt like if you took the movie's version and turned down the energy of it by a mile lmao. (Which is also ironic given RR's post about it today).

And of course the kids immediately know what's happening so like. No fun mystery. No Percy figuring it out. Just them being like "omg we need to be careful" and then immediately separating from Grover lmao.

Okay. LMM's Hermes.... it wasn't bad. Thankfully there was no singing. He was fine. It's more or less that turning the Lotus story line into a Hermes' storyline was like an "okay, I guess we're doing this" thing. I mean I guess we finally introduced something for the non-book reader's to pick up on that Luke might not have the best relationship with his dad (and consequently the gods). But like, nothing about this storyline is something that isn't introduced later on in the books. Nor was it better or more interesting than the original lotus storyline in the books.

Again, its the constant replacement of everything fun and silly and absurd in the book and turning it into a very serious moment, is just like, killing the energy. Seriousness is good. Silliness is also good. The book balanced it greatly. The show struggles here.

Glad we got a Pan mention tho!! Finally!

But um 4 pearls, so no dilemma about who to save. A part of me is relieved because the show's created like 3 other sacrifice convo scenarios so its gotten bit reductive, but Sally being a part of the equation is an entirely different dynamic and now that dilemma is theoretically gone. (unless he loses one of the pearls?)

And Percy's missed the deadline?? Right?? So like? I really don't know what we're doing anymore. In the book the deadline was pretty strict lol. Here I guess the deadline was like, a loose suggestion? Percy's walking into the middle of the god's battle field with master bolt in his hand? Idk.

Overall things in the show feel messy and way less cohesive. They seem to know that certain things from the book are important but not necessarily why, or they'll introduce events or plot points strangely late or way too early.

#to summarize: always ending the episodes now with this :/ expression on my face #pjo show crit #there's more but just #yeah