#and then just taking my hand and talking to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grison-in-space · 1 day

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I'm genuinely sorry, I was really tired and couldn't think of the word that mad pride movements use. I'm new to all of this. I thought you would be more open to it because you've reblogged from radical leftists (anarchists and communists both) within the past couple of weeks and they're all for Veganism afaik. The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different. I'm not spamming people with it, but I was inspired by an ask by a nonvegan and started asking popular bloggers why they weren't vegan to open up conversation and potentially change people's views on animals. If I've made you uncomfortable I'm sorry, though I admit I'm really confused by your standpoint. You do know that the only reason communism hasn't succeeded is because of America? Anyway, sorry again, I'm also autistic and I didn't mean to dismiss your legitimate dietary needs. Can I recommend acti-vegan's posts? While I understand that you can't go vegan, perhaps their blog will at least help you understand our points, they're much more well-written than my asks and they have plenty of legitimate science resources at hand. Thanks for listening, I'll take your advice into account. I'm not trying to not listen, it's just frustrating because so many people say they get it but they don't change, and if they truly got it they would, you know?

Okay, I get that you didn't mean to be offensive, and fuck knows I shouldn't throw stones when it comes to forgetting specific words. (This happens to me fairly frequently; it's a thing.)

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

So yesterday I actually wrote out and then deleted a whole paragraph to the effect of "part of my deep, deep frustration with animal rights activism hooks into my commitment to the phrase 'nothing about us without us,' because I frequently see the same kinds of emotional projection without making the effort to listen to animals on their own terms from animal rights activism groups."

The first thing I need to make clear to you is that this--veganism and animal rights activism (ARA) more generally--is not new to me. I am in my mid-thirties and I have never had a job of any kind that did not revolve around animals in some way, I've spent time in rescue spaces and vets and universities, I'm queer and I have spent most of my life in leftish progressive circles, so it's kind of hard to miss.

Essentially, you are proselytizing to me as if you were a newly baptized evangelical convinced I had never heard of Jesus, because if only I had heard and understood his holy word, I would be converted instantly to his light! It's not any less irritating when the belief system isn't explicitly a religion.

More under the cut, because this one is long.

Disclaimer one: Veganism isn't synonymous with ARA ideology, but it's deeply entangled with it, and ARA ideology drives the movement of veganism as a (theoretically non-religious) ethical decision. And I object very strongly to the framework imposed by ARA activists. When I say I am not vegan, I am saying that I have considered the ethical framework that underpins veganism as an ethics movement and I have deliberately rejected it.

The second piece of context you should know that when I talk about being a behavioral ecologist, I mean that I'm a researcher who works on animals and that my framework is rooted in trying to understand animals in their own natural ecological context, without necessarily comparing them to humans. There's a lot of ways to study animal behavior you might run into, including attempts to understand universal principles of behavior that transcend species (animal cognition) and attempts to understand how to better treat animals in human care (animal welfare). You know Temple Grandin? Temple Grandin is an ethologist (the field that gave rise to behavioral ecology, also focused on animals within their species context) who worked on animal welfare (finding ways to make slaughterhouses less stressful to livestock, among other things).

Third point: my profession also means is that I work directly with animals--in my case, currently mice--and that I do not think research with animal subjects is wrong as long as all efforts are made to ensure maximal welfare and enrichment for the animals involved. This is another major bone of contention politically between my entire field and ARA groups, and you should know that I have also spent my entire professional career under the shadow of, well, people who care strongly enough about those ideas to invade my workspace and potentially seize my animals and "free" them into a world they do not have the tools to survive in.

So there's where I am coming from. Let's get back to what you're saying. Here, I'll quote again in case you have the same crappy short-term memory I do.

Point the first: Even within humans, I don't think that all brains should be treated the exact same. Especially in a disability context! After all, what is an accommodation if not an agreement to treat someone differently because they need certain things to access a space? Accommodations by definition fly in the face of this "treating everyone the same" understanding of fairness. I think all (human) brains are equally valuable, and I think all brains are worthy of respect, but I do not think that it's wise or kind of me to assert that everyone should be treated in the same way. For one thing, I teach students. If there's one thing teaching has taught me, it's that a good teacher is constantly assessing and adjusting their instruction to meet students where they're at, identify failures of understanding, and keep the attention of the classroom.

Point the second: animals do have different brains from humans. That does not mean that animals are inferior, but it does mean that they are alien. There's a philosophy paper, Nagel, What Does It Mean to Be a Bat, that you might find illuminating on this front. Essentially, the point of the paper is that animals have their own experiences and sensory umwelts that differ profoundly enough from humans' that we cannot know what it is like to be a different species without experiencing life as one, and therefore we must be terribly careful not to project our own realities onto theirs. That is, our imagination cannot tell us what a bat values and what it experiences. That is why we have to use careful evidence to understand what an animal is thinking, without relying on our ability to identify with and comprehend that animal. I have watched ARA groups deliberately encourage people to shut their reasoning brains off and emotionally identify themselves with animals without considering within-species context for twenty years. This is a mainstream tactic. It is not an isolated event and for that reason alone I would be opposed to them.

Point the third: there is a definite tendency in lots of people to care deeply and intensely about both animals and people who are seen as "lesser" in status--children, poor people, disabled people, etc--just as long as those groups never contradict the good feelings that come from the helper's own assessment of themselves and their actions. In humans, when the "needy" point out that some forms of help are actually harmful, the backlash is often swift and vicious. This is why animals are such an appealing target of support and intervention. They can't speak back and say "in fact, you are projecting my love of this frilly pink tutu onto me, and I think it's uncomfortable and prevents me from walking." They can't say "I kind of like it better when I don't have to worry about getting hit by a car, actually?"

(By the way: this is also why it's offensive to compare disabled people to animals, because this is generally done at least in part to silence the voices of disabled people speaking for our selves and our communities. We have access to language, and we use it, thank you.)

All forms of animal welfare intervention going right back to the founding of the first RSPCA have been incredibly prone to being hijacked by classist, racist, and otherwise bigoted impulses. This is because animals offer an innocent face for defense that conveniently cannot criticize the actions taken by their champions, and they therefore provide a great excuse for actions taken against marginalized members of human society. Think about the very first campaign the RSPCA ever did, which was banning using dogs as draft animals: a use that is not inherently harmful to dogs, which many dogs actively enjoy, but also one that was specifically used by poor Londoners and which in fact immediately resulted in a great butchery of the dogs that Londoners could no longer afford to feed rather than allowing poor people and their dogs to continue working together. No one was, of course, challenging the particular uses of dogs or any other animal favored by the wealthy. This kind of thing is so, so, so common. Obviously it doesn't mean that all interventions to prioritize animal welfare are inherently bigoted, but it does mean that we have to be critical about our choice of challenges.

On top of everything, the animal rights activist movement's obsession with "exploitation" is a function of the idea that humans are sinful or otherwise Bad in how we interact with animals by definition. For example, take the chicken rescue near me that is so obsessed with the possibility that some human somewhere might benefit from an animal in their care that they implant every hen they adopt out with hormonal implants such that the hens no longer lay eggs--a function that is normally a natural byproduct of a chicken's reproductive system, fertilized or not. A mutualistic relationship involves both parties benefiting, and that is the case for an awful lot of human relationships with animals. In general, the idea that associating with animals is a thing that can only harm animals rather than being a trade between two species to enrich one another is all over these groups. It's just so myopically focused on human shame that it prevents practical interventions that might benefit everyone, and often promotes interventions that don't directly benefit animals but sure do make humans miserable. For example, this kind of thinking is why groups like PETA are absolutely awful at effectively rescuing unwanted dogs and cats: they think pets living in "bondage" with humans are an essentially sad outcome, rather than one that might be mutually enjoyed by all parties.

I'm tired and my meds haven't kicked in, so I'm not currently going to handle the communism thing except to point out that while the US absolutely did destabilize a number of leftist regimes in South America and Africa, Russia and China between them have certainly not treated their own people kindly, either (and more so their own client-nations, as with the former members of the USSR). Please do some reading about the Holodomor and Lysenko in Russia (and frankly all of the details of Stalin's regime) and the Cultural Revolution in China in particular. Khmer Rouge might be worth looking into, too. I am not saying the US's hands are clean, you understand, because they are not; they're as steeped in red as anyone else's. What I am saying is that for people living on the ground, communist revolutions have this nasty habit of turning into bloodbaths and arbitrary slaughters. Do not let your distaste for the US's bloodsoaked imperialism (which, yes, is and was bad) let you fall into the trap of becoming a tankie.

And if you don't know what a tankie is, you really, really should take some time to learn.

#animal welfare #just #don't do this #when someone says “no”#please fucking listen #there's another essay in me somewhere on the painfully obvious sublimated dynamics picked up from Christianity all over this movement #but I do actually have work to do today including that ventral pallidum post I have been poking at

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uzurakis · 2 days

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hi :D can you do jjk boys doing like a tiktok prank and telling reader to shut up but they've a really bad day and either get mad/really sad? angst with or w/o comfort plz

CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR A SEC?!

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. geto suguru.

n. some comfort and some w/o comfort lol. thanks for the req babes, not breaking my angst writing stride. if you could understand why i wrote gojo like that, then you paid attention to s2. enjoy </3

GOJO SATORU. you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, hoping to find some comfort in his presence; finding your boyfriend lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to the tv screen.

“satoru,” you said, voice tinged with fatigue. “i had a really bad day today. the higher ups are a fucking pain—“

“shut up, babe, i’m watching tv. see?” without looking away from the tv, gojo cut off your words.

you froze, the sting of his words hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at him in disbelief, feeling a mix of hurt and anger rising within you. “wow. thanks for that. really needed it today,” you said laced with passive aggression.

gojo finally turned his head to look at you, but it was too late. you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you didn’t want him to see you cry. you pivoted and exited the living room, displacing him in the process.

as you retreated to the bedroom, you could hear the faint sound of the tv continuing in the background. the reality of the situation settled in, and you felt the tears spill over, silently streaming down your face. you sank onto the bed, burying your face in your hands.

moments later, the sound of the tv stopped, and you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door. it opened slowly, and gojo stepped inside, looking all confused and a tad concerned. “babe,” he said softly, “seriously, what’s going on?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “can’t you see i’m busy? can you shut up for a sec?”

you froze, his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. your shoulders slumped further, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. “i don’t need this today. just leave me alone,” you muttered, turning on your heel and heading towards the door.

megumi’s head snapped up as he realized something was wrong. “wait, hold on,” he called out, but you didn’t stop. “hey, i was just joking. come on, talk to me.”

your pace quickened as you left the dorm room, but you remained silent. you needed to leave before you totally lost it because you could feel the tears starting to burn in your eyes. megumi's voice could be heard calling after you as you went down the corridor; growing more concerned with each attempt.

“please, wait!” he shouted, tone now filled with worry. “fuck, i didn’t mean it like that! it’s a tiktok prank, babe!”

you kept moving, the door closing behind you as you stepped outside into the crisp evening air. you leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. the last thing you needed was more pain on top of an already unbearable day.

ITADORI YUUJI. anger flared within you and your eyes widened. “why would you say that to me? what’s wrong with you?” you snapped, voice sharp as a knife.

yuuji’s gaze moved to look at you, and he immediately saw the pain in your eyes. his expression shifted from surprise to regret. “wait, wait, baby, i’m so sorry! it’s just a tiktok prank. i swear i didn’t mean it like that. please, forgive me.”

“a tiktok prank? do you think this is funny?”

he scrambled off the couch and came over to you, face earnest and pleading. “no, no, it’s not funny. i thought it would be harmless, but i can see now that it wasn’t the right time. i’m really sorry…”

“forgive me, please?”

you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. the sincerity in his voice and the worry in his eyes made it hard to stay mad at him. “yuuji, i’ve had a really bad day. the last thing i needed was for you to tell me to shut up.”

your boyfriend nodded vigorously, looking like a guilty puppy. “i know. i messed up big time. can we start over? we’ll order your favorite takeout and watch a movie? my treat!”

GETO SUGURU. your frustration, already simmering beneath the surface, boiled over. “excuse me? you don’t get to talk to me like that, geto suguru. especially not today!”

“whoa, hey, calm down. it was just a tiktok prank. i didn’t mean it seriously.”

“and you think that’s funny?”

the guy stood up, hands raised in a placating gesture, trying to approach you cautiously. “okay, okay, i get it. not funny. i’m sorry. how about we forget about it and i make it up to you?”

you could see the genuine concern in his eyes, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet. “you really don’t understand how bad my day has been, do you? and you choose today to pull something like this?”

suguru sighed, taking a step closer to you. “i do understand. i’m sorry i made it worse. i was just trying to be playful. let me make it up to you.” he dropped his voice to a softer, flirtatious tone, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “you know i can’t stand it when you’re upset with me.”

“you damn flirt,” you huffed, trying to maintain your anger, but the familiar charm in his voice made it difficult. “you can’t just flirt your way out of everything, geto suguru. i’m still mad.”

he stepped closer, gently taking your hands in his. “maybe not, but i can try. let me make it up to you tonight. we can do whatever you want. i’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”

@uzurakis

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wakeup01 · 3 days

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Theft Of A Bro

Uffh. Yeah, that’s good. Just like I thought…tight. We’ll see how long that lasts. No need to talk bro, I know what you want to say. You’re sorry for reacting that way, that me being gay shouldn’t have changed anything. That you shouldn’t have used that slur, or called me a bitch.

Hindsight is 20/20 though, especially when you’re getting fucked by a bro who’s stealing your muscles. Dude, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes, I want you to watch your legs dangle hopelessly above you as I take your masculinity. Take the body you worked so hard for. And I want to see your expression when you begin to love it.

I can already see your arms deflating down there, becoming dainty twigs. You won’t be able to lift a thing with those. That’s okay bro, you can give that bulk to me. I’ll put it to good use. Fuck. See them balloon, so fucking good man. Rrrrww! My biceps feel so much stronger, check out these guns. Check out YOUR guns on my body. Haha. What? Come on bro, you can forgive me for a bit of flexing. Okay maybe a lot of flexing, but I can’t help it. You were always such a egocentric showoff - puffing out your chest like a territorial beast. A textbook, self obsessed fuckboy, now I understand why.

And just look at my expanding pecs. So fucking thick and juicy. Bouncing in time with my th—thrusts! Those used to be yours. You always hated how guys used to eye them up, but now you’ll be the one salivating at them. No need to try and deny it my dude, soon enough your body will have new…needs. Wow bro, you’re already looking real flat down there. Those endless hours spent at the gym to boost your fragile ego, only for me to steal it within seconds. All that definition just fading into your tiny, slimming stomach. Those grab-able hips. Fuck, me on the other hand, I’ve never felt stronger. You could break rocks on here! I’ll take good care of these abs, they look better on me anyway.

Aww, your square jaw is rounding out to a cute little pouty face. Squirm all you want. You look so adorable when trying to seem angry bro. Hard to take you seriously when you’re blushing so intensely. You did always tease my boyish features and now my head is like chiselled marble. And you? That button nose and those freckles, guys are just gonna love you. Say goodbye to being a manly jock. Hello twinky boitoi! I think your waist is now thinner than your girlfriend… or is that ex girlfriend now? That’s a body designed to be fucked brah. So just let me fuck it. Take it like a BITCH! Like the BITCH you thought I was.

Uff. I can feel my cock expanding inside you. The veins pulsing, flowing with blood. Can you feel it too bitch? Yeah, by your expression I know you can. Stretching your hole wide, filling you to the limit. Feels good, doesn’t it. Don’t look now but your dick is shrinking. I’m stealing all that length, all that girth; pushing mine deeper and deeper inside you. Pounding that prostate. There you go. A tiny nub. My churning balls are dropping lower and swelling as yours shrivel up. Mmmff. Fuck that’s sick bro.

Yeah, it’s okay to moan. Your breathy voice getting higher and higher, as mine gets deeper. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal for slutty bitches in heat like you. It’s in your nature. Especially when in the presence of an alpha god like me. Whew, my pits are sweating like mad, just smell that intense musk. Smells just like you used to, bet that fact makes you real hard. Smelling your scent dripping from another man as it’s stolen from you.. Sniff and moan. Sniff, moan and give everything to me.

Holy shit, even your skinny legs are hairless now bro. Just like the rest of your smooth, svelte physique. How does it feel? How does it feel to be the ideal gay bottom slut, the very thing you abhorred.

Why so quiet broski? Oh that’s right, we’re trading that pigheaded ego for an eagerness to please. You had enough confidence to share, so I’m taking it. Taking all of it. Fuck. Yes. Your outspoken nature is draining into me, leaving a timid little mouse in it’s place. A stark difference from that rude, puffed-up dick you prided yourself on being. Even now I bet part of you wants to talk back, be a brat. Hm, but that shy smile betrays what you really are. A well behaved boy who knows his manners. Isn’t that fucking right? Heh, good boy.

Look at me and see what you used to be. Marvel at me, marvel at what you’ve lost. Starstruck at your own well deserved comeuppance. Feel your nub twitch at the sight of the perfect man fucking your jock-hood into nothingness. That strength being sapped away. It makes you feel so small and weak. But you can’t tear your eyes away.

Your head? Sorry bro, I got bored of being the dumb one, so yeah, I’m taking your smarts too. Even if you did waste it and let your cock make most of the decisions. Maybe if you hadn’t held it over me, looked down at me. Well…who’s looking down now? Don’t worry, being air-headed has it’s benefits. That empty look in your eyes, the open drooling mouth. Blissful ignorance. The cute way you’ll get confused at the simplest of things. The ‘ummms’ and ‘huhs’ as you bite your lip and push out your rear. Talking like the complete basic bitch gay you once hated. The constant state of mind melting hornyiness. Dumb as a rock. A complete ditz. You’ll get by doing ‘favours’.

I’m not a jackass though. Not like you were. It’s only fair you get something of mine bro, you can have what’s left of my body fat. Unf. Straight to your rear. Let it plump up your butt to a perfect round bubble. A wobbly shelf. A big bouncy booty. Woof. Yeah just like that. The perfect entrance to your endlessly usable fuck hole. Damn, it’s tight. Let’s conquer it.

Bruh, your masculinity is truly delicious, surrender the rest up to me. To my new hulking, godlike form. Purge every trace of manliness from your puny effeminate body with abject glee. Lisp, smile and giggle like a silly little girl. Like the Femboy you were destined to become.

Like a BITCH.

Say again? Bthweed? Oh, you want me to BREED you. Way ahead of you bro. When I cum with my monster cock, your pretty little head will become stuffed with thick, cummy cotton candy. And bro, it’s never gonna clear up again. I have a new adorable outfit already picked out for you. Thigh high socks, booty shorts, a tiny thong and a nice thick collar with your name on the tag. BITCH.

I’m gonna enjoy parading you out in front of all our fraternity bros. You’ll pretend to be all timid and ashamed but I’ll know you’re actually loving the sense of humiliation. Loving your new place as my emasculated gay fucktoy. If you beg enough I might even let the rest of the frat borrow you. I’ll be sure to let ‘your’ girl know that you were a good hole after being passed around. Maybe she’ll even give you tips, you’ll be besties in no time.

Hm? That’s ‘thank you sir’ to you. That’s better. Let’s be clear, we’re not ‘bros’ anymore. I’m a fuckmachine and you’re a glorified fleshlight. We need to make sure you don’t forget your role. A simple tag will suffice. I’ll even let you choose where your ‘BITCH’ tattoo goes. Forehead or rear, it’s up to you. Yeah boi, I think it’ll look good there too.

Now open wide BITCH and be ready to swallow. I’m about to fucking blow.

———-

Whew! That was a good fuck. Clean up boy, the other bros will be here soon and I…woah. Damn, I feel lightheaded. It’s like my brain is overstuffed. With…stuff. And my cock, uughhh. It won’t soften. Maybe I took a bit too much from you, but fuck, I couldn’t help myself. You deserved it after all. But bruh, I need to lift! Huhuh! Oh shit. I don’t want to be exactly like you were! But dude. Like bruh! My head! Gotta lift! Gotta flex! Gotta get to the gym and be the blockheaded fuckboy muscle jock this body deserves!

Pass me your old jockstrap, yerhh, my huge cock gonna do the thinking for the both of us brooo!

#transformation #muscle theft #jock #dumbing down #straight to gay #gay

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moonstruckme · 23 hours

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Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning.

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after.

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything.

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards.

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine.

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in.

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable.

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment.

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once.

“What happened to your shoulder?”

“You know how to cook?”

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?”

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board.

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.”

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Didn’t expect you to, love.”

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?”

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?”

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.”

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.”

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.”

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside.

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.”

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.”

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.”

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.”

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.”

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.”

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself.

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food.

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.”

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing.

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.”

“Do you?”

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans.

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.”

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month.

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder.

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.”

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?”

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.”

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity.

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?”

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you.

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.”

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.”

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing.

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness.

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.”

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.”

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.”

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.”

“Guess you’ll never know.”

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kisses4reid · 2 days

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protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

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sickslimez · 2 days

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STILL IN LOVE! #8 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Fuck,” Toji grunted before letting out a deep sigh, sweat dripping off his skin as he placed the weights down on the floor. He looked around the room, glancing outside the window.

“That was three more than the last time,” Gojo spoke with a smirk, leaning up against the wall. He took a sip from his water bottle before speaking again, “who’re you tryna impress?” He teased.

“No one. Just tryna get back into the gym.” Toji grabbed his water off of the floor along with his towel, wiping the sweat from his face. Gojo causally walked over towards Toji, standing over him with his arms folded. “May I help you?” Toji glared at the white haired man. As good of a friend gojo was to Toji, he was also very annoying at times, which eventually he had to get used to.

“You never told me how your talk with y/n went? How is she anyway? Single? Not single? Just wanna know when I can make my move.” Gojo quirked a brow, clearly trying to get a reaction from his friend.

“Very funny. She’s doing just fine.” Toji stood from his seat, pushing past Gojo and walking out of his gym room towards the kitchen to grab a small snack. Gojo trailed right behind him, laughing.

“And?” Gojo snatched the box of granola bars from Toji’s hand, slamming them on the counter as he waited for more of a response. “Come on man, I want the details!”

Toji rolled his eyes with the shake of his head, snatching back the box. “We talked about us as parents and our kids. That’s it. What more do you wanna hear?” The crinkling sound of a wrapper filled the silent kitchen.

“That’s it?” Gojo’s brows furrowed, genuinely confused. Toji nodded in response, chewing on his food. “You two didnt have sex?” Gojo questioned, eyebrows now raised in surprise. “Not even a kiss?”

“Nothin. Just a hug and a see you later,” Toji explained.

“Holy shit! You two are actually over. Wow, I never thought I’d see this day come,” Gojo scoffed, grabbing a granola bar from the box. “Have you met or seen her new man?”

Toji shrugged. “No, not really. I’ve seen him, but I haven’t properly talked to him. Don’t think I want to. I want her to be happy, she deserves it. I just can’t stand seeing her happy with someone else. Is that wrong of me? I still get jealous, possessive. But it’s no longer my place to say anything.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Toji?” Gojo had a scowl on his face. Toji let out an airy laugh, shaking his head at him. “It’s weird seeing you all…mature.” Gojo shivered before taking another bite of his granola bar.

“I know. I’m still getting used to it myself.” Not a second goes by where you’re not on Toji’s mind. He thinks about what you’re doing, how you’re doing. He wants to text you, see you, hear your voice, touch you again. He hates that it has to be this way now, but it’s for you, for your family.

Though he has these thoughts in the back of his head, imagining you forgetting about him, acting like he doesn’t exist anymore, you getting remarried to someone that isn’t him. He’s scared of fully losing you, losing his family. You and the kids are the only thing keeping him together, giving him hope that things we maybe work out in the future. But every now and then, he sees those flowers on your table, the kiss your shared with him, the smile on your face when you hugged him. It haunts Toji.

“I forgot to ask, how’d your talk with Toji go?” Kento questioned, his arms snaking around your waist as you wiped your makeup off in the bathroom mirror. He peppered kisses down your neck as he waited for your response.

A smile crept on your face before speaking, “it went well actually. No argument. He was actually very understanding.” You softly smiled, continuing to wipe the makeup off. Of course you wouldn’t mention how Toji practically told you he was still in love with you, held you in his arms while you cried into his chest. It still felt like you smell his cologne in your nose each time you took a deep breath.

“Well, that’s good, right? Now you won’t have to deal with him anymore,” Kento chuckled, pulling away from you. Your brows furrowed at his comment, something in the way he said it didn’t sit right with you, but you decided to ignore it. “He seems like a pretty shitty person, but who am I to judge. I’m just glad you’re doing better, sweetheart.”

You turned around to face the blonde haired man with a puzzled look on your face. “Yeah, who are you to judge?” You asked, tossing your makeup wipe down on the bathroom counter. “Me and Toji may have not had the best relationship towards the end and we may not agree on some things, but I do not need you coming up in here and bashing my children’s father to my face.”

“Woah, woah, calm down, I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I’m sorry, it just came out wrong.” Kento grabbed onto your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. “I just seen how much he’s put you through and I don’t like it.” You pulled your hands from his, leaning Nanami with a slightly shocked expression.

“That is not how you meant it. Calling him a shitty person? Really? He’s a good dad, takes care of his kids, he cares about the people in his life, Kento.” You started to get defensive. Toji had his bad moments, every one does, and your relationship showed that side of him, but you also saw the best of him too. You knew deep down Toji was actually someone trustworthy, a good person at heart.

“Yeah, like the way he cared about you towards the end of your marriage?” Kento questioned.

You stared at him, unable to form words, trying to process the ones that just came out of his mouth. “What did you just say?”

Kento stepped closer towards you, realizing what had just slipped from his mouth, an apologetic look on his face when he saw the saddened look in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I—”

“You have no fucking right to talk about my marriage with him. Just because I told you what happened doesn’t mean you know the whole story, you understand? He was my husband, he’s the father of my kids! How fucking dare you? Get the hell out of my house.” Anger lined your tone. You never thought that someone like Nanami would ever judge someone’s character, let alone, speak about them in such an ill manner. He seemed understanding, open to the whole situation, even offered you advice—which you took.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me. You’re right, it isn’t my place to speak about your marriage. I just thought—”

“Let me make this clear again…get out of my house, please.” You sharply inhaled, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to control your anger. And to think you were going to have a nice night while the kids were at Shoko’s and you had the house to yourself. You stood there looking at the tiles of the bathroom floor, Nanami stepping out of the room to grab his things. A shaky breath rattled through your body as tears began forming in your eyes, but just as quickly as they came you wiped them away even faster.

The front door shut, leaving you in complete silence.

Toji rubbed the towel over his wet hair, sweats hanging low on his waist as he walked into the living room to settle down for the day. He grabbed the remote, turning on the tv to find an interesting moving to watch before bed, choosing between horror or thriller. “This is same shit as the other one,” he spoke to himself, sucking his teeth.

Toji’s phone began vibrating as he clicked through the movie selections, not bothering to look as he picked it up. “What do you want, Gojo?” Toji asked with an unenthusiastic tone.

“Toji,” you sniffled. He immediately sat up, eyes going wide at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay? The kids okay?” He asked with panic, standing to his feet.

“The kids…the kids are fine, they’re with Shoko.” You could barely talk, trying to control your emotions.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Toji questioned, walking over to the front door to slip on his shoes. “What happened? Talk to me.” He opened his front door, walking to his car, unlocking it.

“Can you just come over? Please?” You asked.

“I’m already on my way, okay? Stay on the phone,” he demanded. The sound of your cries made Toji fill with worry. You wouldn’t tell him what was wrong or what was going on, but he’s never driven anywhere else faster before. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” You nodded as if he could see you.

Toji didn’t even turn his lights or tv off. Hell, he can’t even remember if he locked his front door. But at this point he didn’t give a damn. All he knew was that you needed him right now. He wasn’t going to leave you like he did all those times before. “I’m around the corner, be at the door.” Toji hung up the phone as he turned down your street, slowly breaking as he pulled up to your house. He noticed how there was only your car in the driveway.

He saw your front door open, the light from the house illuminating your figure as you stood on the steps. Toji quickly got out of the car, rushing towards you. He could hear you crying the closer he got. You reached towards him with open arms, Toji took you in his, nearly out of breath. “Mama, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, soothingly rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” you sobbed.

“No, no, shh, come on, let’s go inside.” He noticed how you were only in your nightgown in the cold. Helping you into the house, he locked the front door behind him. He stood there with you in his arms, embracing you, comforting you as you cried. “I’m here, baby,” he said softly.

“I just…we got into a fight…and I started drinking and I—I can’t stop crying. I needed you,” you explained, tears rolling down your cheeks. Toji could faintly smell the alcohol on your breath as you spoke. Toji wasn’t going to intrude on your business when it came to your new relationship, but if he had to guess, the argument was pretty recent.

“He didn’t touch you or anything, right?” Toji sternly asked. You immediately shook your head no. A weight of relief lifted off of his shoulders at your answer.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late, Toji. You didn’t have to come I was—”

“I don’t care about that, okay? I don’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling like this. Not anymore. Let’s go.” He guided you towards your bedroom, the plush carpet under your feet as he sat you down on the bed. You finally stopped crying, wiping the tears off of your face as you sat there to collect your thoughts. “I’ll be back.” Toji felt a tug on his hand as he went to step away, looking back to see you staring up at him.

“Stay.” It almost looked like you were begging him. Is this what you were like all those years ago? How he just ignored you? How could he do something like that to you? You squeezed his hand tighter as you crawled into the bed, pulling him with you. Toji reluctantly followed, but still gave in. His arms wrapped your body, pulling the blankets over you as you snuggled into him. You inhaled his scent, hugging onto him like you never wanted to let go. “Don’t go,” you mumbled against him.

His fingers ran over your skin. “I won’t, mama. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He kissed the top of your head. Toji laid there as you fell asleep his arms, bedroom light still on, his hair still damp from his shower. He doesn’t know what to think right now, lost in his head. Was this real? Or were you just drunk? He doesn’t want to think about it too much, but yet he does. Will you hate him when you wake up? Scold him, yell at him? God, he hopes not.

“I love you, Toji.” Those three words made his heart sank, his movements came to a halt.

She’s drunk. She’s doesn’t mean that. Don’t read too much into it. This will never happen again. It isn’t real.

It takes everything in him not to say those three words back. He doesn’t want to give into something that he knows won’t even be a second thought to you the moment you open your eyes again. His jaw clenched as he stared at your bedroom wall. “Just sleep, baby,” he quietly spoke. He slumped the lump in his throat, continuing to trace patterns on your skin.

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days

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★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!

─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

APRIL 1, 2024

THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.

Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.

Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.

As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.

"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.

The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.

The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.

A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.

Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.

Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."

Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."

"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."

Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"

Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."

Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."

"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."

Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."

It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.

Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."

Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."

Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."

Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."

Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."

The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.

──

"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"

Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.

Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.

Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.

Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.

"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.

Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."

Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.

"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."

Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"

"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."

Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."

"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."

Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."

"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."

The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.

You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.

The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.

After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.

"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."

Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."

──

APRIL 5, 2024

"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.

The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.

"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."

Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"

Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"

You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."

Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."

As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"

The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.

As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.

But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.

Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.

You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.

Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.

"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.

As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.

All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.

In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.

"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.

"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.

She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.

Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.

The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.

Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.

Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.

In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.

"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."

The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.

As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."

When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.

"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"

The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.

You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.

As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.

Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.

"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."

There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"

"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.

Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."

You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."

Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."

Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.

Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.

After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.

And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.

"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."

His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."

The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.

As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.

Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."

Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"

You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.

──

"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."

"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."

ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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keyotos · 3 days

Text

➳ you're my achilles heel

summary ⎯ niche microtropes w/ the hsr men! emphasis on the micro (not rlly)

includes ⎯ dan heng, aventurine & jing yuan

tana talks ⎯ who's missed me? i've been gone for a HOT minute, and what other way to come back than kickstarting my 1k event: niche microtropes! more info about that will be here. thank you so so much for 1k!!!!

dan heng

when they both have to share a bed and one of them reveals it was the best night of sleep they've ever had

⎯ dan heng has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and letting march choose hotel rooms has to be one of them.

⎯ granted, he truly thought that march would do a good job at choosing the hotel, financial planning, and of course–choosing the rooms.

⎯ and everything was great. until you and dan heng had to share a bed.

you and dan heng shifted around the bed a few times before finally settling into designated spots. it was decided that dan heng would sleep on the outside, while you slept near the wall. his back faced you as he tucked himself into bed.

⎯ you and dan heng were friends. this awkwardness wasn't normal, and there should be no reason for the two of you to be avoiding each other like you are now. alas, here you are now, laying at least a foot apart.

⎯ the room is completely silent, and a bit cold as well. dan heng felt a breeze constantly grazing his shoulders. yeah. there was no way he could sleep like this

⎯ you, on the other hand, felt too hot. you had most of the blankets on your side and you felt SUFFOCATED. sometimes, it felt hard to breathe. but u weren't sure if that was just nerves or bc of how hot you felt.

⎯ ultimately, you are the one who has to make the first move.

"dan heng," you turned around and whispered, "are you cold?"

⎯ obviously, he was cold. but was he going to say anything about it?? no.

"i'm fine," he said, still facing his back towards you. "are you cold?" you gulped at the dry response. usually, you find yourself always wanting to talk to dan heng. he was never a boring converser, so why was he acting so strange tonight? but then again, you had no room to talk—you haven't said a word to dan heng until now.

⎯ at this point, you're a little frustrated at the lack of communication between the both of you. so—being the problem solver that you are—you decide to do something about it

slowly, you inch closer to dan heng—just to test the waters, of course. dan heng doesn't reach much, only a small head turn once he feels a dip in the mattress. you take some of the blanket and throw it over dan heng, awaiting his response.

⎯ meanwhile, dan heng over here is internally flipping out. when you inched towards him, dan heng could feel his heart skipping more than a few beats. and when you threw the blanket over him, dan heng wasn't sure if he felt warm due to the blanket or you.

⎯ when he finally turns over, you have to hide your wide eyes and slacked mouth underneath the blanket. you peer back up, and he's staring right at you.

"are... you okay?" you whisper underneath the blanket. "i'm cold," is all dan heng says. you hide your smile underneath the blanket, but you have a feeling dan heng knows you're smiling anyway. he's looking straight in your eyes after all.

⎯ and then you say it. you practically hit the pentagon.

you open up the blanket to where it reveals a dark silhouette of your body. "do you want to share?"

⎯ dan heng practically malfunctions. usually, there are always things dan heng says to fill the silence. he never runs out of words. not in a talkative way like march, but rather, he has an extensive vocabulary

⎯ this time though? haha. very funny. he's gone mute.

dan heng blinks at you while you hold the blanket open. you raise an eyebrow, taunting him. he squeezes his eyes shut, and then reopens them to find you still holding the blanket. was he halluncinating?

"i don't want to intrude." "oh please," you quietly laugh, "we're already sharing a bed. we crossed the line of intrusion a few hours ago."

⎯ and that sounds like a good deal to the both of you. except, one thing.

"are things going to change after this?" dan heng asks you. you're glad it's dark, so dan heng doesn't see you flush, "i don't see why things would change," you say, maintaining a calm face.

⎯ that's enough to get dan heng under the covers with you.

⎯ you two sleep wonderfully the rest of the night—you two even woke up early too. you were the one to wake up first. the sun shone on your face, yet you didn't even feel the glare at all. you felt energized, which was weird considering that you went to bed at questionable hour last night.

⎯ oh, and you also felt a pair of arms over your waist too. and something pressing into your neck. and something wrapping around your legs. and you also feel really hot. is that from the sun????

⎯ yeah. it's going to be harder to keep your word.

aventurine

those dancing scenes where it just so happens that the lighting focuses on the two of you

⎯ lavish parties and extravagant events weren’t new to aventurine, who just so happened to stumble on one of the biggest on penacony

⎯ sometimes, the families hold galas. it’s more of an exclusive thing, so aventurine had to do some awkward mingling in order to get in. that includes a very awkward conversation with a security guard, who kept raising eyebrows at his outfit.

⎯ beforehand, he had no interest in going to this event. however, once faced with the possibility that he could gather intel, his mind quickly changed.

⎯ now, he is standing right next to you, the heir to penacony's iris family. in his short time on the planet, he's seen your face countless times: on billboards, commercials, and next to various items. but seeing it in person?

⎯ way. different.

"you've never been dancing before?" you lead the ipc executive, aventurine, down the halls of the iris family's ballroom. aventurine shakes his head as he follows you, "not once. though, as the iris family's biggest celebrity, i take it you're used to dances?" your eyes widen when you hear him utter the compliment, "i'm... i'm not sure i'm the biggest celebrity," you rub your neck sheepishly. you tilt your head back, "and i don't think i can remember a time where i didn't dance."

⎯ aventurine has one goal tonight, and it's to get information about the families. if all goes according to plan, then he'd have the upper hand on penacony itself, thus being able to use his knowledge as a bargaining chip for the ipc.

⎯ and if there's one thing aventurine is good at, it's bargains.

⎯ so now, aventurine is trying his hardest to charm you into giving out any information. because people like you always talk.

"that must've been nice," aventurine eggs you on, "from what i can tell, parties on penacony are always fun." you let out a small laugh, "i'm glad you think that." the two of you walk side-by-side, and you aren't saying a single thing. aventurine flexes his hand by his side, preparing to make more idle chatter. he's about to open his mouth when a bright, shining light beams onto the both of you.

⎯ from the look on your face, aventurine can tell that you did not like that. he stands there passively, awaiting for your next move.

⎯ what he did not expect was for you to hold out your hand for him.

"um," you clear your throat. your eyes dart around the room and you gulp, holding out your hand, "may i have this dance?"

⎯ aventurine meets your nervous eyes with his wide ones. it looks like the two of you have no other choice. eyes are on the both of you when aventurine takes your hand, and you pull him into a quiet space in the ballroom.

⎯ let's get one thing straight: aventurine does not know how to dance.

⎯ so currently, he's trying to avoid stepping on your toes, while trying to remain in sync with you. on the inside, aventurine is annoyed. there are ears everywhere, meaning that there's a bigger risk. however, aventurine is all about risks, and the night is still young.

"i thought you liked dances," aventurine purposefully whispers into your ear, and he can feel the heat rise up. his voice is sultry and sweet, and he hopes to get you addicted to it soon. you look up at him with crinkled eyes. the light is glaring on you, and it seems like you're glinting instead of shining. "i never said that." aventurine takes notice of the rise and fall of your chest—much faster than when the two of you met. the corner of his lip raises a little bit, "oh, i'm sorry. but are you uncomfortable? i thought you've been doing this for years? let me know if i can do anything to help?" he offers.

⎯ you only smile, and aventurine gives you a polite smile back. he follows your lead, waiting for you to say something, but you only lead him around the ballroom.

⎯ the light is still trailing after you, except it's beaming more on aventurine than you at this point.

⎯ it's beaming more on aventurine. oh. he gets it now.

"do you wanna get out of here?" he whispers in your ear once again. he has to try his hardest to bite down the smirk that was about to appear on his face. this was going to be easier than he thought. you grab his hand in a tight hold, "no," you firmly state, "we're staying here."

⎯ wow. what a shift of tone.

"i need your help," you mutter under your breath. "help me, and i'll do anything," you look up into his eyes, pleading with him through your gaze.

⎯ aventurine nearly steps on your feet. what?

"uh–what?" aventurine questions you as you keep moving.

"sneak me out of here. we can't go through the doors—there's the bloodhound family everywhere. but i need you to get me out," you beseech. you grab his hand, bringing it up to your chest and slowly sliding it down to your waist.

⎯ aventurine has to remind himself to keep his cool multiple times. breathe in, breathe out. what were you getting at here? why did you want to escape?

"listen, what i said earlier. about the parties. i need to get out," you spin yourself around and back into the blond. "help me," you connect your palms as you circle him, "and i'll help you," you intertwine your fingers together.

⎯ the light still glistens over the both of you. and aventurine thinks two things: he's gotten into something he didn't need to get into, and that he finally has a way into the family.

jing yuan

second chance romance, except the two of you have been keeping tabs on one another the entire time.

⎯ jing yuan's childhood is filled of fond memories: his old master, the bright and sunny days when he would train, and you.

⎯ you, who jing yuan would willingly miss trainings for. you, the brilliant and clever reporter who broadcasted for the people. you, who jing yuan had to let go.

⎯ he'd spend days rereading what you've wrote; whether it be small stories or big news on the luofu. everything you had written intoxicated him. however, all good things have to end eventually.

⎯ the break-up wasn't even technically a break up, because you two weren't even together. the harsh reality was that you two were just friends, so jing yuan has no actual reason to be moping around. people lose friends all the time, and with jing yuan's lifestyle, it was bound to be imminent.

⎯ as the general, jing yuan had new priorities, and it seems like you weren't one of them anymore.

⎯ so, you move on with your career. you founded the xianzhou's very own broadcasting channel, which aired to the millions of citizens across all ships. you're a superstar who hasn't left their core values. rather than the big stories, you focus on local ones. you focus on the people.

⎯ and general jing yuan... focuses on his job. sort of. not really.

⎯ can you really say that a general is focused on his job when he goes missing?

"jing yuan," your side aches once you utter his name, and you suppress an agonized moan, "why are you here?"

⎯ you know what they say, old habits die hard.

⎯ the founder of the xianzhou's broadcasting channel was found in critical condition a few days ago. you had been reporting on the a civil case that had struck on one of the ships, and—next thing you know—blood ran from your fingertips and you rushed into a critical care unit.

"how did you even get here?" you ask as you lift yourself up higher on the bed. jing yuan steps forward, but you move back. "i haven't spoken to you in years. you cut me off, and then you show up now? can i atleast get an explanation on how you found me?"

⎯ jing yuan's silence tells you all that you need to know. you keep up with the dozing general, even if you are off the luofu. because still, even after all these years, your heart trails after him.

"i wanted to see you," jing yuan blurts. his voice is much more deeper than you remember it to be. "so i contacted the hospital and told them that my old friend was in critical condition, and i needed to see you." you scoff, "an old friend is a stretch." you pause and look down at your hands. and then, a thought furrows in your mind. "wait, if you knew where i was hospitalized—you read my articles?" "i've never stopped."

⎯ oh. oh? oh????

⎯ safe to say that you were rendered speechless. the next five minutes were spent by you staring at jing yuan, jaw-dropped and all.

"how long?" you asked. "too long," jing yuan dryly chuckles. "since i left."

⎯ the air is thick, and things are obviously tense. and there are so many things to talk about. so many things to tell him. such as how you've surfed before (it was a big dream of yours). or how you finally adopted the cat you always wanted (you hope he brings up his lion).

⎯ and while you sit there, you realize that you've missed this. how could you even live without this for hundreds of years? without him? was it surreal to feel so strongly about a person that left so long ago?

⎯ so many milestones missed. so many to make up for. so many things to talk about. so many things to clear up. and you still want to do it all with jing yuan.

⎯ does he still want to do it with you?

you clear your throat, attempting to sit up straighter. you're struggling, and you've never felt so embarrassed in your life. while trying to adjust yourself once more, you see a shadow appear above you, and it's the one and only jing yuan. "do you need help?" he asks, holding his arm out for you as support. you take it gladly, pulling yourself up by grabbing onto his (big) forearm. "thank you," you dust yourself off, checking your side for any rips in your stitches. "now," you begin, letting out a shaky breath, "i think... i think we're overdue for a chat."

⎯ you knew jing yuan. you'd like to know him now. jing yuan knew you too, and now—judging by the look on his face—he'd like to know you too.

god i've missed the hc's so much. like i'm truly going back to my roots here. be honest did y'all miss the hc's too or was that just me????

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #blade x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #CHAT WE ARE SO BACK #jing yuan my pining king you will always be famous even if you got power-crept

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surielstea · 3 days

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Desperate Males

1k celebration request!

Pairing: Poly!Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Morrigan convinces Reader to indulge in her fantasies with the three winged Illyrians, the ones that the reader resents for the way they treat her home court, the hewn city.

A. Note: Thank you my lovely Lex (@lexluvswriting) for helping me finish this because I was STRUGGLING but I’m happy with how it turned out in the end :)

8.1k words .. half of it’s smut, whoops.

Rita's was packed full of lusting fae and grinding figures, every single body in the pleasure hall was glistening with sweat beneath the dim lighting as they continued to rut against each other.

I was sat in the corner of the building, at a small booth I was sharing with Morrigan, gossiping about our relationship issues over a few too many glasses of wine.

Mor was one of the only people I could tolerate ever since Rhys dragged me out of the Court of Nightmares and to Velaris. I hadn't had much of a choice, the moment he found out I was his mate, he felt some form of entitlement to me, he was fortunate he wasn't ripping me away from anything special, less fortunate when he realized I held the mating bond with his two best friends as well. All three of them, sanctioned to me, a female who had no intention of ever accepting any of their bonds.

Mor was from the hewn city as well, born and raised in that wretched court. It made it easier to talk to her, she understood what I meant when I said it felt like I was living a lie, too good to be true and she knew what I meant when I tried to explain my fear of the ever-imposing threat that it'd be ripped out right from under me at any moment. No one could truly understand the way she could, and though my resentment towards the inner circle was much stronger than hers, she made an effort to relate and be there for me.

"So, how are the boys?" Mor grins suggestively before taking a sip from her drink. I groan, slumping into my seat as I think about the three very annoying males she was referring to.

"Desperate," I grumble and she chuckles into her glass.

"How so?" She smiles, leaning onto her hand propped up by her elbow. "Give me some examples," She urges.

I shake my head with an eye roll, saying, "I don't have any." She gives me an undefeated look, a raise of her brows telling me she was waiting for me to go on. "The stories are too long," I argue but she still remains unwavering.

"Good thing we've got time," She leans back in her seat, getting comfortable as if she was prepared to stay in the pleasure hall with me all night. "Start with Rhys."

Rhysand had a tendency of showing up to the house of wind unannounced, quite a lot. So much so that the male has probably been in this house more than his own. To be fair, he was the one paying for it so I suppose this was just as much his house as any of his other residences, but ever since I started living here his visits began to grow personal. I've only been residing in Velaris for a few months now but he still made it his mission to see me at least every other day. Each time he welcomed himself into the large house he'd have some sort of gift with him, tonight was no exception.

I didn't startle when I heard the front door open, and I barely even flinched when his baritone voice crooned from the direction of the couch as I entered the sitting room. He had his long legs stretched across the couch, his head tilted back against the armrest, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Evening, darling," He drawls and I look at him with an indifferent expression.

"It's the middle of the night," I grumble, going into the kitchen and grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

"I knew you were awake," He intoned and I rolled my eyes, filling my glass up with cold water.

"I'm about to go to bed," I claim, approaching the sitting room to look at him. He angles his head to meet my gaze, a sloppy smirk on his lips.

"Can I join?" He bats his eyelashes dramatically and I debate splashing my freshly poured water into his face. I decide not to, instead silently turning on my heel and retreating down the hallway. He shuffles off the couch and follows right behind me but I pay him no mind. I push open my bedroom door, leaving it open for his entry, because even if he agitated me it'd be a lie to say I disliked his attention. I was a simple female, and making him chase me like this so successfully was amusing, if not a little cruel.

"I have a gift for you," He informs in a sing-song tune.

"When do you not?" I say, placing my water down onto my nightstand and crawling into my large bed, Rhys had insisted on the size when we went furniture shopping so it could fit his wings, I had ignored his foolish assumption that he would ever sleep in my bed, but let him buy me the most expensive mattress anyway.

He reaches into a pocket dimension and removes a flat, rectangular, velvet box, one made for holding tiaras.

"I don't want your money Rhys," I sigh, watching as he situated himself on my bed, his long legs on either side of my hips, encasing me as I practically sit in his lap. "It's not money," He puts a hand up, waving me off. "I don't want your jewels or crowns either," I huff as he places the velvet box directly in front of me.

"It's not— just open it, will you?" His eyes plead with me more than his words. I stifle a curse and pick the ornate box up. It was heavier than I had been expecting, my brows crease as I slowly tilt the lid open, revealing what was inside. It wasn't money or gems, or even a fancy tiara, but a sleek dagger.

The hilt was solid obsidian, embellished with gold detailing, so well crafted it almost felt wrong to be in my hands. Deep red rubies adorned the top of the hilt in a teardrop shape, pointing up to the blade that's been polished to an impossibly sharp edge, Illyrian steel based upon the rich color of the metal. It was utterly elegant, in such a lethally arresting way.

I take the dagger from its confining box, my touch is delicate as I admire it from all angles, the blade moves so fluidly like the steel morphed into liquid when moving through the air. "You like it?" Rhys' voice breaks me from my trance and I grip the hilt a little tighter, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.

"It's unlike anything I've seen before," I murmur, still entranced by its beauty and the way it moved. He smiled at that, proud of himself for finding a way to impress me.

"It's an heirloom," He confesses and my expression drops, looking up at him.

"I can't take this," I immediately say, attempting to shove the dagger back into his hands.

"Sure you can," He sighs. "I have no use for it, and I heard you have a collection of pretty blades," He says, leaning back on his palms and ignoring the way I was haphazardly thrusting the dagger toward him.

"No, Rhys," I declare and his ears perk at the use of his nickname, he's been only Rhysand specifically for the last few months. "I can't, you're only doing all of this because we're supposed to be mates," I say. "I'm not worthy of your gifts, you're just blinded by the effects of the bond,” I say but my explanation must’ve failed to reach his ears because his smile simply remains.

"Darling, I'm a powerful male, if I didn't want the mating bond to affect me I wouldn't let it," He says cockily and I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling at his pride. "I'm doing this, because I want to, it's that simple," He places his large hands on mine, closing my fingers around the dagger. "But, if you don't want it then—" He starts and I shake my head hurriedly. "No, no I do want it," I grip his hands tighter and his brows raise a fraction. "Perfect," His smile returns, but his hands don't let go of mine and maybe for a moment I let myself indulge in his comforting touch.

"And you're telling me the two of you didn't fuck after that?" Mor questioned, an appalled look on her face as I ended my story about the High Lord.

"He gave me a blade, it wasn't exactly getting me hot and bothered," I scoff and she smirks.

"He could've given you another blade," She murmured under her breath but it wasn't quiet enough for me to miss. "Mor!" I look at her with wide eyes but she only snickers.

"Okay, I'm not totally convinced you dislike him, but tell me about Cass," She urges and I deadpan.

"Are you going to make sex jokes again?" I raise an assuming brow.

"No promises," She croons. "Now tell me about him."

Cassian loved to strut around half-naked. His shirt was often absent when I was around. It was an obvious ploy to swoop me off my feet, to get me drooling over his more than impressive abdomen and his arms that could crush my head in. And perhaps I did drool over him in the solitude of my bedroom, but I'd never let him know that.

I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my dinner when I nearly choked on my bite of food as Cassian strolled in, clad in nothing but pants and glistening in sweat from training. His hair was tied up in a messy bun that sat at the back of his head, a sword half the size of me slung over his shoulder in a sheath. I swallow my food with effort, my eyes unable to avert from every expanse of skin starting below his neck.

"Hey sweetheart," He says, kicking the front door shut. I snapped my gaze to his but the smirk on his face made it evident that he caught me staring. "Did you make dinner?" He asked, propping his sword up against the side of the counter. I didn’t make dinner, he knew that, because if I had I would be retroactively accepting the mating bond, he just wanted to put the idea in my head.

"Az did," I say through bites, the shadow singer beside me, silently reading a book, successfully not paying Cassian any mind unlike me.

"Is it any good or do you miss my cooking?" He asks with an amused smile, earning him a glare from the spymaster.

"It's delicious," I say, taking another large bite. I hadn't meant to indirectly compliment Azriel but he slightly smiled at my insult on Cassian, then returning to his reading.

The other male grumbled beneath his breath like a toddler throwing a fit as he made himself a plate that seemed more like a feast fit for a starving man, walking to the table and sitting down directly in front of me.

"You're not going to change?" I ask and he raises a brow and looks down at himself.

"Do you, want me to?" He said, slightly confused.

"Well, what if I started showing up to dinner shirtless?" I cross my arms with a scowl, Cassian's eyes light with amusement and Azriel begins to choke on his own air, muffling his coughs as he stuffed his face into his arms.

"I don't think we'd mind," Cassian winked at me and I looked down at my plate, silently cursing myself for walking right into that one.

"I just think it's bad table manners, is all," I murmur, leaning onto my hand as I roll my food over with my fork, playing with it aimlessly.

"If it has that much of an effect on you, I'll go change," He begins to stand and I whip my gaze up, staring at him with creased brows, not wanting him to think I was entirely bothered by it.

"It doesn't have an effect on me," I blurt out and a smirk curves his lips.

"Then I won't change," He sits back down.

"Fine," I say.

"Fine," He agrees.

Dinner went on a regularity from there, that was until I was clearly done with my food and I hadn't retreated to my room like usual, instead, I was far too distracted analyzing all the scars on Cassian's tanned skin, the ones that had stories behind them that I'd most likely never hear, the ones I would've never seen if he hadn't come home without a shirt.

His chest was on full display, rippling in muscle, a tight abdomen that would have me lying if I said my mouth wasn't watering when I stared at it for a moment too long. And gods, his arms made my thoughts wander beyond just arousal, it was more than a craving. My hands were practically shaking in my lap and I was just grateful they were beneath the table.

My eyes snag on a particular scar cutting across his ribs and up to his sternum, it must've been a mess of blood and gore when he got it, only for it to heal over as a simple line slightly darker than his skin tone, beautiful.

"I got it in a duel," Cassian said and I whipped my head up, locking eyes with him.

"What?" I say, my back ramrod straight, visibly embarrassed by the fact that I was just caught for staring so unabashedly.

"My scar," He places a hand over it, tracing two fingers down the raised skin with a practiced, rehearsed movement like he's down it thousands of times before. "It was from an angry husband, his wife neglected to mention she was married and he took some offense towards our, familiarity." He explained. "Insisted on a duel," He shrugged, and I blinked in slight shock.

"You, lost a duel?" I said like the idea was obscene. "Aren't you considered one of the best swordsmen on the continent?" I raised a brow and he shrugged.

"Seemed like the right thing to do," He flashed a charming smile that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before. "You're ridiculous," I said, standing up and grabbing my plate, walking into the kitchen to place my dishes in the sink. The Illyrian followed after me with his own plate, reaching over me and placing it in the basin beside mine.

I whirl around, which turned out to be admittedly a mistake. His bare chest was so close to my face that it was an effort to crane my neck up, keeping eye contact and not letting myself crumble beneath his gaze. "What do you think?" He asks and my eyes regrettably flick down to the scar, and I can't help myself as I reach forward, my fingers brushing over the rough line of skin and I swear for a moment both of us stop breathing. I tentatively pull my hand away, looking up at him with a smirk.

"I think you have enough testosterone to fuel an army," I hum, patting his chest before pushing past him and removing myself from the kitchen, attempting to ignore the way my hand remembered the feel of his skin against it.

Cassian turned to Azriel as soon as I was out of earshot. "That's a good thing, right?" The male mutters with a line between his brows. Azriel's eyes flick up from his novel to look at his brother. "I don't think so, no." He shakes his head, then returns to his page while Cassian's shoulders slump in defeat and he retreats to his room to find a shirt.

"You're telling me, you had your hand on Cassian, the male pushing seven feet, skin to skin and you didn't immediately surrender?" Morrigan says, her brows creased as she grows increasingly worried about my well-being. "Are you sick or something?" She reaches over the table, pressing a hand to my forehead and I scoff, the annoyed sound turning into a laugh as I push her hand away.

"I'm not sick," I claim. "Just a female who has no interest in large, muscular, beautiful, tan males," I grumble, taking a sip from my glass, my voice trailing off as I go on about how truly magnificent they are.

"Right," She settles back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unconvinced. "So," She smirks. "I know you've been saving the best for last," She leans forward, her grin uncontrollable as she rests her elbows on the table while she insists, "Tell me about Azriel."

My experience in Velaris so far was enjoyable— despite the three winged males, the people were kind here, the men didn't stare, the children weren't sickly, and the women held more value than the curvature of their bodies. It was nice here, like some false paradise.

A small part of me would forever hate Rhys and all the others living in his secret city for blindly living their perfect lives, while innocent people dreaded waking up every morning— because the best time they spent was unconscious, in their horrid city just below the mountain, only a short trip away. Such a drastic shift of atmosphere.

Sometimes when my guilt of being happy began to grow too unbearable I found myself in the library. The first and only place so far I've felt entirely safe. It was quiet here, enough to clear my thoughts, but not enough for unwanted ones to creep in. Priestesses bustled around the building with carts and stacks of books, keeping the tenor lively and welcoming.

So it was a shock when my safe space was suddenly and harshly ripped away from me when I saw a familiar winged Illyrian sitting in the spot I always chose. It wasn't mine by any means, but the bastard must've known this was the alcove I selected every time I came here, there was no way he just so happened to favor this spot as well with the amount of floors alone this place had.

"Move," I was particularly upset this morning due to lack of sleep from incessant nightmares. He only smirks, his eyes slow as they left the book he was so engrossed with, and dragged up to my features. Hazel pools flickering with amusement as he meets my gaze.

"Oh? Is this your spot?" He tilts his head mockingly and I grip my book harder.

I disliked Rhys for how he acts in the Hewn City, and Cassian for his overtly boisterous and arrogant behavior, but Azriel— no one quite got under my skin like Azriel. I couldn't exactly pin down why he made me so frustrated, perhaps it was because he would be the easiest to like, or maybe it was because I always thought he was the prettiest whenever they'd make their annual appearance in my home court, something about that particular fact made me hot with both rage and excitation.

"Well, I haven't exactly seen you sitting here before," I argue, clutching my book to my chest with furrowed brows.

"Fair point," He hums while scooting over and offering me a few more inches of space. It wasn't exactly the largest amount of seating area but he was kind enough to move, and I was far too tired to continue arguing. So I settled in beside him.

The spot I favored over all the others was nestled in a carved-out alcove, hidden from any peering eyes, located between shelves full of various hardback spines. The only viewpoint was from the balcony upstairs, or straight ahead. It felt safe, and I've yet to find any other place I liked as much as this one, so I was open to sharing as long as he kept to his book and I kept to mine, silently.

But the olive green couch wasn't big enough for the both of us and I quietly cursed his insanely large wings for taking up the entire area, one of the dark limbs spread out behind me while the other hung off the edge of the couch, the one behind my back however forced me closer to him, my side pressed against his, and my legs that I had pressed to my chest leaning onto his lap, so much so that I might as well have just been sitting in it, we must've looked ridiculous.

Nevertheless, he opened his book back up and offered me the peaceful quiet I craved. I did the same, cracking my book and finding the page I was on.

It was nice for a moment, the awkward silence morphing into something more comfortable as it grew familiar between us. I had even gotten a few chapters in before I reached a much more, graphic, chapter. The descriptions were downright erotic, and suddenly everything the male did stopped mattering because I was now entirely consumed by the book I had randomly picked off the shelves this morning.

"What are you reading?" He was so very close to my ear that I felt his breath against it, and I snapped my book shut, the sound echoing off the shelves of the quiet library.

"None of your business," I retort, whipping my head to him with stern brows, he narrows his at me suspiciously. "What about you?" I jerk my head towards his closed book like it's been neglected for more than just a few seconds. "Is it a guide on how to kill your brothers? Because I might be interested in reading that one next," I say with a smirk and he mirrors it.

"I wish, Cass practically kicked me out this morning with his atrocious singing while he made himself lunch," He grumbled and my lip quivered upward, my amusement unmanageable at the scene he put in my head, and I cursed myself because, of course, he notices.

"Oh, you think I'm funny?" He says and he was so damned close that one inch closer would result in noses brushing.

"Shh." I press my pointer finger to his soft lips. "No talking in the library." I smirk at him teasingly, removing my touch from his sensuous lips, dragging the bottom one down only for it to spring back up when I let go in an oddly satisfying way.

"We don't have to talk," He suggests, catching my hand before it can fall to my lap. My cheeks grow hot as he interlaces our fingers, palms pressing together, soft skin against scars. He notices my blush and moves that lethal inch closer, the tip of his nose ghosting against mine. "You want to kiss me so badly," He continues his taunts and I scowl, but I don't dare move away.

"Shut up," I bite back.

"Are you going to make me?" He arches a perfect brow and I grit my teeth, deciding I won't play his stupid games. I detangle our hands and turn away from him, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

"You're just as bad as your brothers," I claim, opening my book again.

"You wound me," He gasps in faux pain and I roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be the quiet one?" I huff, attempting to find the page I was on.

"Just because they're loud doesn't mean I don't speak too," He states, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Whatever," I grumble, and his wing curls around me a little tighter. He stayed silent for a moment, just a moment of relieving peace, but it was over as soon as it began and I was grateful for the second, but the opposite of gratitude came over me when he spoke again.

"This is filthy, love," He runs his finger down the edge of my book and I close the novel again, this time quietly so it doesn't reverberate throughout the library again.

"I'm not shaming you," His voice is deep and seductive as he speaks, so very close to my ear I swear with every word I could feel it vibrate down my spine. "Just wanted to let you know I'm open to recreating it," He suggested and I sighed, deciding I'd had enough of his banter, and stood up, clutching my book to my chest as I looked back to him.

"You're relentless," I say and he shrugs with a coy smile.

"No goodbye kiss?" He hums and I only shake my head and storm out of the alcove, leaving the library more frustrated than I was when I arrived.

"And?" Mor gestures her hands, demanding more.

"That was it," I shrug.

"You didn't go back and make out with him?" She creased her brows like I was insane.

"No, because I don't need a male to enjoy my life," I say. "You are one to understand that," I suggest with my brows raising and she simply rolls her eyes with dissatisfaction.

"Yeah, but— that doesn't mean you should strip yourself the pleasure of having all three of them," She wiggles her brows and my cheeks grow hot. "Or you could just pick one and miss out with the rest," She adds, before taking a sip from her glass, the liquid inside nearly gone.

I thought it might've been impossible to just pick one. They all had their own personalities and unique qualities, and what if I somehow chose wrong? What if my decision came between the three of them? Then again why can't I just have all three of them? They're all so kind to me, and they're funny, and so very gorgeous, and— "Oh gods, I'm in love," I gasp quietly, my hand cupping over my mouth at the devastating recognition.

Morrigan only nods with a wide grin, like she's been waiting for me to realize since we sat down in this booth. "What do I do?" Suddenly I don't know how to think, or how to act.

"Put them out of their misery and feed those poor bastards," She proposed and I groaned with defiance.

“I’ve been working so hard to ignore their pathetic acts for the last five months, I can’t just give in now.” I practically melt onto the table, my head falling into my arms dramatically.

“Hey, listen to me,” She grabs me by the face, smushing my cheeks as she emphasizes every word. “Do you want them to fuck you senseless?” She asks and I sigh, but inevitably nod with a pitying frown. “Then go." She releases my face and shoos me with her hands and I smile as I stand up. “You’re the best Morrigan,” I claim and she winks at me. “I know,” She shrugs and I blow her a kiss before winnowing to where the tether between the three men felt the strongest.

Which landed me in a cabin I'd never been in before, the sitting room warmed by the crackling fire in the hearth.

Whatever conversation the three males were having halted when I showed up. They all looked at me with analyzing eyes, raking up and down my figure, still in my party dress from Rita's, the material tight, hugging every curve and dip of my body and ending high on my thighs, showing off the entirety of my legs and an obscene amount of cleavage, which the males definitely didn't miss.

Cassian and Rhys were sat on a sofa in front of the fire, Azriel was situated in a large leather chair that he claimed like some sort of king, distanced from the fire I notice. All three of them had short crystal glasses, a matching decanter sat on the coffee table halfway filled with an amber liquid.

"Hey, sweetheart," Cassian was the first to speak. "What brings you here?" He hums and I clench my jaw. What was I doing here? Silently I whirl on my heel and walk towards the kitchen, finding a bowl of fruit situated on the counter. I grabbed an orange from the variety, taking my time to peel the rind off, the three of them staring at me curiously as I approached them again, splitting the pieces of the fruit into thirds, handing each of them a slice without a single word.

"Are oranges supposed to pair well with whiskey?" Rhys held the fruit up, staring at it confused as if the High Lord truly didn't understand what was going on. He wasn't seriously going to make me say it, was he?

"Eat," I demand but they only stare at me with blank eyes and I sigh, my shoulders sagging. "Whoever's orange is gone first I'll make out with," I say and within the blink of an eye all three of their slices of fruit were gone, but I caught Azriel swallowing first so I approach him and take the liberty of sliding over his lap.

He wastes no time before putting his hands on me and pulling me into him, his lips immediately finding mine.

I smile at the citrusy taste still ghosting his tongue as he pushes it into my mouth, tasting every inch he can find like a starved animal, craving more. My hand goes into his hair while his scarred ones slowly slip beneath my dress, gripping me tightly and pinning me down onto his hips, allowing me to feel just how hard he was beneath me.

Desperate, indeed.

"Az," I whine softly and he groans at the sound, his kisses turning sloppy as he loses himself entirely in the taste of me.

"Alright," Cassian's voice calls, familiar, large hands coming to my waist and pulling me off of Azriel's lap with ease, throwing me over a broad shoulder.

"Is this what it's going to be like mated to you three?" I say, still upside down as Cassian's hands roam the backs of my thighs, then higher. "Passed around between you three like some doll?" I say, secretly not minding the idea.

"If you don't want to be passed around," He tosses me down onto a large bed. "We can always share at once," He hums and I had an unshakable feeling that I would be split in half if I took all of them for the first time, at once.

"No, I like being passed around," I say with bright red cheeks and he smirks, guiding me up onto the bed, my head meeting the pillows.

"Then who do you want first?" He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Rhys," I look to the high lord. "I want Rhys," I say and the violet-eyed male raised a brow, his smirk uncontrollable as he approached the bedside. Cassian moved off of me and Rhys took his place over me, his lips finding mine with ease.

He kisses softly at first but that only last so long before he's leaving my mouth and beginning to nip and suck on my neck, licking over it to soothe the marks. I writhe beneath him, my hands in his dark hair as I ache for more. I reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt with one hand before moving to the ties confining his hardened bulge.

"No darling, you're going to ride me," He says breathily into my neck and my hand halts on his pants. He smirked at my reaction and flipped us over so I was on top. He unzips the back of my dress with ease, helps me slip it off with gentle hands as I straddle over his hips, now completely bare for all three of them, but it was only Rhys' eyes I was focused on at the moment.

I rut my hips down over the imprint in his pants, releasing a soft sigh as the action puts friction on my clit. He smiled up at me and how needy I was for him already.

He takes his pants the rest of the way off, his boxers along with it and I can't help but smile at the sight of him, his tip pulsing and red, and the length of him was intimidating enough on its own. "You think you're ready for me?" He asks, ripping my panties off with an ease I marveled at, but before I could reply to his question he swiped his fingers through my folds and my breath hitched at the stimulation, my arousal soaking his fingers, he pulls them back for me to see and I flush in embarrassment at how wet I already was.

"Oh, darling I've barely touched you," he smirks and I look away from his eyes, attempting to get my blush under control. "There's no need to be shy," He guides my face back to look at him. "Be good and take all of me, yeah?" He arches a dark brow and I nod, placing my hands on his chest as I rise on my knees while he helps align himself with my entrance.

He looks at me pointedly and I nod, then sink myself down onto him, ever so slowly.

"That's it," He grunts out as my cunt swallows around the head of his cock. He throws his head back into the pillows as I sink deeper, reaching the halfway point and clenching around him hard.

My nails scratched down his chest as the unfamiliar stretched, his eyes gleaming with pure lust until eventually my hips pressed against his and I let out a sinful moan as he brushed up against that bundle of nerves deep inside of me, kissing it softly.

"Rhys," I sigh, my nails digging into his abdomen as my cunt twitched around him. His hands come to my hips, slowly guiding me back and forth, manually making me grind on him.

"Fuck, taking me so well," He grits between his teeth, already restraining himself.

My back involuntarily arches as he kisses up against that sensitive spot again, moans tumbling from my lips as I begin to bounce myself up and down on his cock. He smiles hazily, his hands leaving my waist in favor of cupping my breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over my peaked nipples. My breath hitched at the sensation, clenching around him tighter as he groped them, tweaking them between his fingers, making my release barrel closer.

"So good for me, getting yourself off on my cock," He admires and I nod, a whimper slipping from my lips as I pull myself out to his tip then let gravity slam me back down onto him, the head of his length pounding into my sacred spot, making me release a lewd moan, screaming out his name as I clamp around the width of him, a ring of white forming around the base of his cock.

"Feels so, so good darling," He says breathlessly. "Such a good girl," He murmurs and I throw my head back at the praise.

"I'm close— Rhys, I can't," I pant out, unable to catch my breath with the way he relentlessly pounded into my cunt. "Me too, fuck— keep doing that," He grunted. "Keep squeezing me so tight, just like that," He instructs and I nod, my pussy taking all of him as he twitches deep inside of me, signaling that he was close.

I go faster, my thighs burning with the movement but I ignore the pain, delighting in the pleasure he was giving me. He pounds into me relentlessly, both of us teetering along that edge, and the moment his hands find my nipples again I'm left helpless, and suddenly I rise to my climax, coming to a crescendo as I meet my peak of pleasure.

I gasp as his warm cum seeps into my cunt, spurting out of his cock with one last clench of my core and he released a thick white liquid. "Gods, such a good girl," He sighs out, his large hands groping my breasts one last time before they dip down to my waist, and help guide me off of his length, laying me back into the bed.

"Cass," I murmured, keeping my legs together in order to hold Rhys' release inside of me. "Cassian, I want you next," I pant out, still not entirely over the high that Rhys left me with but I already wanted more, and lucky for me the male was there quickly, switching with Rhys as he hovers over me, his pants already absent and his cock leaking a milky substance, the sight making my mouth water. He was noticeably wider than Rhys, and I debated whether or not he'd tear me in two.

"Flip around, wanna feel your pretty pussy from behind," He hums and I do as he says, turning onto my stomach and hiking up onto my knees. His calloused hands find my hips, helping me guide them up higher, my back forming a perfect crescent as I keep my face in the pillows and maximize my arch.

"You ready for more sweetheart?" He asks and I nod, tears welling in my eyes as his heavy cock slaps against my soaking folds, my arousal dripping onto him as Rhys' release cascaded down my thighs. He lathers himself in my liquids, his pre-cum adding to the mixture.

"Want you, Cass," I murmur. "Don't hold back," I add and I can practically feel the way he was smirking. His tip prodding against my pulsing entrance.

"Tell me if it's too much alright?" He kisses my shoulder softly, his rough voice gentle as it meets my ear. I nod, but before any more words are spoken he grips my hips tighter and thrusts inside of me.

I gasp, breath being lost on me as I fist the sheets beneath me. "Cass," I cry out, the width of him stretching against my walls, molding me to him.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," He sighs out and I gripe, writhing beneath him as he pushes deeper and deeper, forcing my legs wider so he could enter more comfortably.

My breathing is labored as his hips finally snap against my ass. He groans at the feeling of his cock entirely sheathed inside of my cunt, stretching me beyond capacity like a sleeve made just for him.

"Please, Cass," I whine and he leans over me, my back bowing against his chest, his lips coming beside my ear.

"We only just started, sweetheart," He taunted, nipping at my shoulder.

Ever so slowly he pulls out, removing himself only about halfway before slamming back into me with an outmatched force. I screamed at the switch of pace, his thrusts coming quickly, pushing me up the bed.

I reached forward, gripping the headboard to stop my body from unconsciously running away from him. He drove his hips forward harshly, his balls slapping against my folds. His hands left my hips in favor of my ass, handling me roughly as I arched beneath him, feeling his width deeper the lower into the pillows I went.

"Good girl.” He throws his head back, sweat glistening as it rolls down his chest, into the groves of his abdomen. I mewl loudly, incapable of forming words as he fucks me beyond sentences.

"Such pretty noises you're making for me," He hums, his lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. "Am I making you feel good?" He whispers and I swallow thickly, tears brimming my eyes as I nod helplessly, defenseless under him like this. He smirks at my unsolicited actions as I grip around his shaft tighter, delighting in how good it feels as he stretches me.

His hands returned to the curve of my ass, gripping the plush skin in his large hands, loving the way it left red imprints, marking me as his, as theirs.

"Pull my hair," I murmur.

"What was that, pretty girl?" He leans over me and I flush shyly, I knew he heard me the first time.

"Pull my hair," I repeat and he smiles.

"Yeah? You want that?" He wraps his hand around my locks, gripping the back of my skull before tugging on it and I moan, my release catching up to me as he manhandles me, just how I wanted. His grip tightens as I squeeze around his cock, his heavy balls continuing to clap against my neglected folds. "That's it, baby, just like that," He assures, watching as I lose myself in the heat, fire blooming over my skin as my release barrels closer and closer.

"Please," Tears slip down my cheeks. "Let me cum, I’m close," I mewl, gripping the headboard tighter, my nails denting the wood.

"Already?" He teased and I nod, pushing myself back onto his cock and he grunts, twitching inside of me and brushing against my elastic walls. "Go ahead, make a mess sweetheart," He allows and I immediately follow his order, my orgasm ripping through me for the second time tonight, his following soon after, shooting his load of cum into me, filling my every crevice and mixing with Rhysand's inside of me.

I grip at the sheets as he pumps into me one last time and I clamp down on him, milking his cock as he slowly removes himself from me and collapses down onto the bed beside me.

My legs ache as I sink back down into the mattress, my intense high slowly fading away as I flip over onto my back.

I jolt as a cold sensation runs up my thighs, skidding across my waist and meeting my breasts, shadows swirling around the peaks of my nipples, slowly tightening and beginning to tweak the hardened buds.

"Az," I sigh, shaking my head. "I can't," I murmur, far too overstimulated to even think about taking another round.

"You can." He comes between my legs, shadows forming at my thighs and prying them open, forcing them to stay even when I try to close them. I can make out the way Cassian's cum seeps out of my cunt and down my ass, the feeling making my mouth water for Azriel's cum too, wanted all of their release to mix in my womb.

"There's so many things I've wanted to do to you," He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone. "Things I've imagined doing to you," He confesses, beginning to place soft pecks up the side of my neck, to my jaw. "Which one of us do you think of when you touch yourself?" He asks, his lips ghosting over mine and my brows bunch because it'd be a lie if I said I ever thought about just one of them.

"I asked you a question," He purrs, his hands coming to my wrists, gathering them up above my head. "Be a good girl and answer it for me." The tip of his nose runs along the side of my neck before his lips make contact with the side of my throat, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh.

"All of you," I confess, pulling slightly at my wrists as he lets go but shadows have them pinned down too.

"Yeah? Do you like to imagine all three of us ruining all your pretty, wet holes at once?" He croons, his mouth just beside my ear and I writhe, unable to even grind against my own thighs since his shadows were holding me open, leaving me desperate and vulnerable for his own pleasure.

"Az," I whine.

"Tell me," He demands. "Tell me what you think about when your fingers are stuffed in your needy cunt," He hums and my brows crease at how humiliating this all was.

"I think about all three of you, fucking all my pretty holes," I confess and he smiles proudly.

"Yeah? Does that get you off?" He hums and I nod with a whimper, murmuring a pathetic, "Mhm."

His fingers are barely there as he drags them up my figure, then back down to my hips, keeping me restrained as I clench around nothing.

"I need you inside of me, please," I beg and he manically grins, kissing along my jaw, nipping at it as I continue to pull against his shadows.

"Such a needy little thing aren't you?" He taunts and I nod, agreeing with whatever he wants me to as long as he pushes himself inside of me. "Yeah? Don't worry baby, I'm going to ruin you." He said, his grip tightening on my hips as he pressed his tip to my entrance, and without another warning, pushed inside of me.

I screamed his name loudly at the intense feeling, he didn't waste time and he most definitely wasn't gentle like Rhys, or kind like Cassian, he was fucking me like an animal, and I loved every second of it.

Maybe it was because I was overstimulated but he felt so fucking long inside of me, and when his length was fully sheathed in my cunt I swore he was up against my cervix.

Shadows released my thighs for only a moment so that he could adjust my legs, pulling them up to my sides and putting me into a mating press.

"Gods, you're taking me so well," He admires, staring down at me with low-lidded eyes as I let him withdraw everything he wants from me, his cock nestled deep inside of me as I take him deeper and deeper while he fucked me into the mattress, unrelenting and so very stimulating.

"That's it, so fucking good," He throws his head back at the feeling of my puffy cunt squeezing around him torturously tight. "Gods, I'm going to fuck this wet pussy until you beg me to stop," He groans and I moan at his lewd words, and the sounds of his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs, his full balls smacking into my ass as he continued his rough pace.

He looks down at me, sweat lining my forehead and a permanent blush over my cheeks, tears running down the sides of my face as he uses me.

"You look so pretty tied up like this," He smirks, analyzing my every breath, as if needing to remember this for later.

My mouth is open, moans escaping the base of my throat with each of his thrusts, the head of his long cock kissing my cervix and I scream, my nails digging into my palms as I fight off my orgasm, feeling my encroaching climax grow closer and closer.

"Az—" I start, barely able to get his name out before I'm cut off by another moan. "I have to—" I can't even say it, tears blurring my vision as he continues to pummel into me and I deflect my third release. "You already have to cum baby?" He smirks down at me and I nod, so grateful he understood but my gratitude dwindled away with his next words. "You wanna cum? You think you've earned it?"

I nod fervently, my body aching at the position he had me stuck in. I convulse around the base thick of his cock, the back of my head buried in the pillows as I plead for my climax but he wasn't allowing it until he came too.

I force my legs open wider and he hits into me deeper, earning a grunt of pleasure from him.

"I can't Az," I plead. "I promise, I'll be a good girl just, let me cum," I say and he groans at how I sounded begging for my own release, the sounds of my moans pushing him closer to that edge.

"Alright baby, go ahead, come all over my cock," He commands and I obey without another thought, my release slamming into me hard, resulting in me shaking beneath him, my legs jolting as he slowly unpins them and lets me wrap my legs around his torso, riding out my high as he presses into my cervix and with one last harsh thrust he grunts and releases his seed into my womb, mixing it with Rhysand's and Cassian's.

My cunt is left red and swollen as he removes himself from my entrance, I close my legs as soon as he was gone, not letting any of their releases escape me, keeping it tucked inside. The mating bond affected me so much that I wanted to feel this fucked out all the time, have them fill me at every moment, drunk on their cocks.

"You did so well for us," Azriel hums, sinking into the bed beside me, my ass up against him as I flip onto my side and face Cassian, his lips finding mine, biting at my lower one while Rhys' hands fondle my oversensitive breasts. "Poor baby, she thinks we're done," Azriel hums, his cock hardening again, pressing to my ass.

"Please," I whimper but none of them stop their movements.

"It's time to take us all at once, darling," Rhys said and I gasped as I felt his hand cup my heat.

"You ready, sweetheart?" Cass asks and I can only nod helplessly.

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rreids · 20 hours

Text

HIS SUNSHINE • S. REID X READER

implied fem reader (self-referential when talking about women but can be ignored); fluff; sunshine!reader x grumpy!spencer; spencer realizes he is in love with reader; implied years of friendship + building to this; kissing; promises; slight angst (crying, mild insecurity); reader has a fear of storms; ~1.5k

part of @reiderwriter's writing challenge using grumpy x sunshine; oh, oh; and libra (modified somewhat to fit the scene more)

Spencer could feel your pulse calm as he rubs his thumb over your wrist. It was an odd sensation, someone physically relaxing under you and your attention. It wasn’t unwelcome, though, and he felt himself match his breathing to your slow exhales as you steadied yourself and your emotions.

He brought his thumb up and wiped your tear stained cheeks, rubbing the skin gently. You lean into the touch, nuzzling into his palm. He felt like his heart might stop when you let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut. He could smell your shampoo with you this close, a coconut smell and a hint of vanilla. It was… pleasant.

“Better?”

You nod wordlessly. Your breath tickles his skin but he can’t bring himself to move away. He jumps when both of your hands find his free one and you intertwine your fingers with his. You inhale deeply before lifting your head, and the redness to your eyes makes his heart ache.

“Thank you.” Your voice is scratchy and Spencer smiles sadly, tracing his fingers up to lightly ghost over your temples and brows, a barely there touch with just enough pressure that you relax again.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I woke you up at one a.m. because I walked to your apartment in a thunderstorm just so I wouldn’t be alone. I think I do.”

Spencer smiles. “You’re welcome any time.”

“Really?” Your voice is small. He realizes he’s never made clear that you’re not crossing boundaries when you visit when you ask “I’m not intruding?”

“You’re not Morgan,” he teases lightly, and your smile is like a ray of sun finally breaking through a gray overcast. Everything is warm again. “I don’t mind. Really.” His hand has finally stopped and dropped back to his side, but you keep your fingers tightly twined with his.

“Why is that, Dr. Reid?”

“That I don’t mind you being here?” He can hear the confusion in his voice clearly. Why would he mind? It’s a sign you feel safe, with him, and you’re good company. His favorite company.

“Why am I an exception?” Your voice is infinitely small, and he almost misses the question. It drips with vulnerability and his chest aches.

Spencer doesn’t answer for a moment. He knows it’s just a few seconds, but it feels like time stops as he looks at you. Your small smile still plays at your lips, gentle curls to the corner of your mouth; a sparkle is returning to your eyes; your face, puffy from tears and marked with tear streaks is as beautiful as ever.

He’s in love with you.

He doesn’t know how he didn’t realize before. But he can’t imagine not being in love with you either, head tilting and mouth parting as he hopelessly tries to find words that won’t overwhelm you the way the revelation is overwhelming him.

Spencer’s eyes flick to your lips again and he realizes he wants to kiss you.

It’s wrong, he knows that. You’re friends. Coworkers before that. You came to him in a moment of fear and anxiety, desperate for support and seeking solace in him. You wanted a safe space that he could and did provide. He would be taking advantage of your emotional state if he were to spring these feelings on you, especially since he only just realized them himself.

And yet he wants to.

“I—” Spencer clears his throat. “You… you’re comforting, to me. It’s never too much. It doesn’t feel imposing because you will and always have respected my boundaries.” You always treat me well. I want you. Nothing could bother me beyond superficially and momentarily because I am hopelessly attached to you. “I make exceptions for you because you make them for me.”

You laugh softly. “So our relationship is only transactional?” There’s humor in your voice. You’re messing with him, and he can’t bring himself to care.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

Your brow furrows. He wonders if he’s ruined the moment.

“Do you want it to be transactional?”

“No!” He answers too quickly, too emphatically, barely able to process his own words. “God, no,”

“Wow,” you drawl, all anxiety and tension gone from you. “You’re calling on God.”

Spencer can feel his face burn. He pulls his hand from your hold. Words escape him.

“Spencer.” Your tone draws his gaze to your face immediately. “I need you to be honest with me.” He nods before he can think to reject you — not that he’d deny you any request. He never can. “What are you thinking about?”

He studies you carefully, breathes out “you” before he can psych himself out of speaking. “Why I make exceptions.”

“Care to share?”

You’re so close to him. He can feel the warmth of your chest inches from him. Can see flecks of color in your eyes, could even count your eyelashes. He has half a mind to do so.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” Spencer whispers softly, shoulders relaxing as you toy with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You were just crying.”

“So it’s inappropriate?” You wiggle your brows and look up at him, eyes innocent and bright. Beautiful.

“In a sense.”

You smile, innocence to your expression vanishing. “So you want to sleep with me.”

Spencer coughs. “I didn’t— __, I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You don’t want to? I’m hurt.” You’re grinning. “Here I was, thinking I’m irresistible.”

“I didn’t say I don’t…” he trails off.

You’ve cornered him. You have a Cheshire Cat grin.

“Will you run away screaming if I tell you a secret?”

“Depends. Are you going to tell me you kill pretty women and I need to make a break for it?”

Spencer laughs. “No.” The humor fades quickly, and he can feel his pulse pounding. Hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. “I love you.” His voice hitches on the words. “I’m— I just realized I’m in love with you.”

“Well, it took you long enough.”

He can’t think of a smart reply. He can’t think much at all. All he smells is you and your shampoo and bodywash, and he tastes vanilla chapstick when your lips press gently to his. You don’t give him time to kiss back.

“Are you sure?” Your fingers trace his cheekbones and his head is swimming.

“Sure about what?”

“That you want me. I mean, I was crying on your couch for an hour because of a storm. Do you really want to deal with all of that?” All of you. You’re asking for reassurance you’re not a burden.

As much as he wants to kiss you, he doesn’t. “I want you as you are. If that’s what you want to know,” Spencer whispers. “You are enough for me.”

“And if I’m not enough?”

“For me or for yourself?”

“... both.”

“You are. You will be,” Spencer ducks his head to kiss a scar on your collarbone, a knife mark from one of the first cases you were on with the BAU. “You’ll find it. The balance between who you want and need to be. What you want others to see you as,” your fingers twirl the hairs at the nape of his neck and he’s hyper aware of your touch, buzzing with anticipation of more contact. “For now, you have to learn to be satisfied with who you are.”

You swallow. Nod. Blink back tears again.

“And you’ll have to be satisfied with how I am. With all my scars and flaws.”

You smile. “I think you’re perfect.”

Spencer rests his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m not. No one can be. As long as you promise to be how you’ve always been with me, then, yes, I’m sure.”

“So you don’t want anything to change?” The lightness is strained. You’re too emotional for it to land, but he doesn’t call you on it.

“I’d prefer if you kissed me.”

And you do. He basks in your warmth, your sunshine. You break his dark clouds and his barriers. It’s enveloping, a heat and comfort. Familiar. It’s like you were destined to slot against him, warm him from the inside out. He can taste your tears. A sun shower. He can’t pull back, soaking up your affections like a plant. You’re smiling despite the way your breath hitches from your emotions, and he knows you’re happy. Overwhelmed. It’s everything and not enough.

He traces your spine.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” His heart matches his mumbled words, beating to your tempo. It was years coming, in the making, years of your smiles and sweetness breaking down his walls and becoming part of his world in every way.

And yet the rhythm is familiar, as natural as breathing.

Spencer is tired of being upset with the world. And whenever he’s with you, he isn’t. Can’t be. He just hopes he can provide the same light you do.

i am trying. idk.. it's a fic!!! that's all i got.

#my works #reidersshootingstars #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff

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okwonyo · 2 days

Text

when you are shipped with another idol.

엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader seven hundred requested ！ established relationship ⠀⎯⠀⠀ not proof-read kissing skinship slight jealousy ( other )

heeseung would be purely flabbergasted. because, with who could his girlfriend be shipped with if it is not him？you will be able to see thirty different expressions displaying on his face in the space of ten seconds. would try to hide the tiny bubble of jealousy that grows inside of him. “it was me who gave you this beanie, pft,” he’d mutter under his breath while he reads the freshly aired article your manager sent to you. you would have reassure him, “it’ll go away quickly, don’t worry, bub” and maybe with a few kisses— he would forget about it quickly enough.

jay would only give you a soft and weirdly understanding smile as you tell him that fans are spamming another idol’s name in your lives. they claim that you would look cute together and you try your best to ignore them. the truth is, he would know; he would watch your live regularly. would not mind that much though, as he would not be the jealous type. still, his still so sweet demeanor would throw you off, “you don’t care?” you would ask, only slight shock written on your face. “do i need to?” he would ask, giving you a peck, “i know you are my girl,”

jake would sulk immediately. would never think that you would be shipped, loved to be seen, with someone who isn’t him. would not try to hide his jealousy at all — rather opting for a overdramatic pout that just goes with his personality so well. “do you think he is cuter ..？be honest,” he would question you, the only response he would get would be a confused look that he would straight up take for a ‘yes’. you would have to shower him in compliments while gently stroking his hair until he becomes red and hide his shy face in the crook of your neck.

sunghoon would develop a one sided dislike for the, unlucky (in that case, because your boyfriend would think that they are really lucky) idol you get shipped with. would shoot the said idol some glares that would make cold sweat appear, would slightly roll his eyes whenever that that idol talks and would fight the urge to start a war if they are a bit too close to you for his liking. you would definitely make fun of him for it, “you know it’s really all in your head right,” you would ask him, and he would just mumble while making himself comfortable on your chest.

sunoo would feel offended, almost cheated on by your fans. would hide it well, to anyone else but not to you, with a wide smile when you ask him what is wrong. you would try to scoot over his shoulder discreetly, eyeing a tweet about you and, allegedly, another idol caught dating— knowing who it really is. “you know it’s you, right?” you would giggle in his ear and he would jump, holding his heart as you scared him. would claim that he does, still pouting, nonetheless; a few poke on his soft cheeks would make him forget about it.

jungwon would be confused. would have his inexistant comprehension of the situation written all over his face. would raise his eyebrows while he watches a slideshow of you and an unknown’s ‘dating proofs’. ridiculously enough, after scrolling through the hashtag of the freshly created couple, it would convince him as well at some point. “w-woah, these are really convincing,” he would mutter, putting his phone down to stop whatever is going on. “you are only dating me, right?” he would ask in your ear, scooting over you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

riki would not like that, at all. “which one is cooler,” showing you his phone, he would interrogate you. “him or me?” your gaze would be full of endeared annoyance and fondness. would tilt his head to the side, mirroring you and waiting for you to answer his question. “you are so cute,” you would tell him, cupping his head in your hands. would have to lean a bit towards you as he is taller. the look in your eyes would quickly take over his mind— forgetting the question he asked a few seconds ago. “you will always be my only choice,” then he would smile when you kiss his nose.

this was really fun to write ! >_<

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rafecameroninterlude · 3 days

Text

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader who do absolutely everything together. crimal activity and all. “how did you get that lock open?”, “my hairpin, duh.” rafe would stare at her proudly, thinking to himself; ‘that’s my girl.’ while she handed him stacks of cash. spoiled!gf!reader who knows she has rafe wrapped around her manicured finger, despite him arguing that it’s the other way around. “just admit that you bend at my will, baby.” rafe would be towering over her, thinking he finally has her cornered until she shoots him with; ‘who was on their knees last night begging me to sit on their face?’

criminal!rafe who would panic when she wouldn’t respond to his ‘are you okay?!’ after shooting down a group of men, only to find her fixing her lipgloss in the bathroom. “what on earth are they feeding these guys?” she’d huff, stepping over one of their bodies before walking past him.. “let’s get out of here, i’m hungry!” rafe would shake his head, trailing behind her. spoiled!gf!reader who would convince rafe to let her use handcuffs on him, telling him he’s under arrest for not giving her babies yet. “that’s a life sentence, mr. cameron.” he’d be looking up at her, slightly irritated that he couldn’t trace the curves of her hips. “don’t forget to throw away the key.”

criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader who’d go over all of the solutions to problems they may run into along the way. “you see this phone? only one person has the number to it. if it ever rings, that means i’m dead-” she’d stop him right there, “what the fuck?!” her blood ran cold at the thought, “just listen baby- if you ever hear this phone ring, you need to get up, grab the backpack with the money from the master safe, and run.” a shiver ran down her spine. “but-” rafe would cut her off, “no ‘buts’, i need you to do what i say, ‘cause whoever gets me will try to get you too, and i won’t let that happen. promise me.” she hated the idea, but knew rafe wouldn’t be able to rest until she reassured him.

spoiled!gf!reader who always bailed rafe out of jail, both of them partaking in post-jail sex as if he was away for a year instead of a couple nights. “shit- you were the only thing i could think of in there. my pretty baby here all by herself..” he’d be plowing into her, showering her in kisses as a silent apology for getting caught up and making her go through the trouble of getting him out. “i’ll make it up to you. ‘go and get that bag you’ve been wanting, sound good?” she’d nod, too fucked out to form a sentence. criminal!rafe who’d gift reader a gun, teaching her how to properly aim and fire. “so once you have it aimed at your target, you’re just gonna- jesus christ!” she flinched at the sound that pierced through the air, both her and rafe staring wide eyed at one another. “sorry..”

criminal!rafe x spoiled!gf!reader who can stay up till an ungodly hour, just talking in the dark while they trace shapes into each other’s skin. “can you imagine that? watching the sunset while our little ones run around?” rafe would smile even though she couldn’t see him, the image tugging at his heart strings. “i dream about those kinds of things..” he’d pull her close, taking in her sweet scent. “promise me something?” rafe agreed without hesitation. “promise me that what we do isn’t forever. i don’t want to run anymore..” she’d sniffle, rafe wiping the tears from her eyes. “i’m tired of running, too, ‘promise.” he kissed her, wanting to make the mood lighter. “let’s talk rings. i think princess cut suits you perfectly.”

a/n: this was inspired by the ‘please please please’ mv with sabrina carpenter and barry keoghan, and this post by @heartsforrafecam <3

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markiecake · 3 days

Text

📹

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

tags/ warnings: smut (minors dni !!!), mirror sex, markie films while he fucks you, calls you his camgirl at one point :3, spanking (like once), pet namessss (good girl, baby, angel, etc u know the drill), praising !!!!, creampie

you couldn't help but feel just a lil bit embarrassed :(

you were looking back at yourself in the full body mirror in front of you, and you looked pathetic to say the least.

mascara streaming down your cheeks, hair stuck to your face, drool down your chin.. you were a mess 😵‍💫

a spank to ur ass snapped you out of your trance, and your eyes were redirected to mark, who was behind you.

"there she is," he laughed from behind you as he held his phone in his shaky hands.

he always talked about filming the two of you, because he's away all the time !! of course he needs something to get off to while he's gone !

the flash from his camera was making you squint as you continued to look in the mirror.

"i told you i'd stop if you- fuck- didn't look in the mirror, didn't i?" he spoke through grunts, "so watch, baby."

and at this point you were so close, the want for pleasure took over your pride. your head was spinning as you watched yourself get closer and closer to cumming.

although he had to keep it somewhat together for the sake of filming, mark was just as much of a mess as well. his hair was sticking to his forehead, one hand focusing on his phone and the other on your waist. he prayed that his phone would pick up your sounds as well.

"taking it so well, baby. my sweet girl, my best girl." he began to rant under his breath. you were reduced to whimpers as his thrusts became sloppier overtime.

"m- markie," you whine, "soso close, please-"

"yeah? you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he asked, to which you weakly nodded, "go ahead, angel. show me how much of a pretty camgirl you are."

you thought your brain was going to melt as he somehow sped up, making you see start. you reach back to grip at his arm as you watch yourself lose control.

you just about scream as you cum around his cock, your nails digging into his arm. you let out loud moans, as well as small whimpers of mark's name, repeated like a mantra.

your body shook, while mark was showing absolutely no signs of stopping yet.

"you gonna let me cum in you, love?" he asked, "let me make a mess of you? yeah?"

you nodded quickly, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. you could barely put two words together at this point, being so lost in the feeling D:

one final thrust made his hips still, holding your waist with an iron grip as he still somehow managed to capture every single moment.

we all know mark has the biggest breeding kink in nct (IT'S TRUE !!!!), so he definetly didn't want to waste a second of this.

he slowly pulled out, and moved the camera down to your used pussy, where his cum slowly dripped out. he heard you whine of "markieeee" when you saw what he was doing, but he just smiled to himself.

this was going straight to his favourites.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee hard thoughts #mark lee hard hours #nct dream #nct x reader #mark lee smut #nct 127 #nct smut #nct drabbles #nct #mark x reader #nct mark

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squoxle · 3 days

Note

Hi ! Could you write something where like y/n is sucking or playing with heeseungs dick & she just got her fresh nails done and they’re pretty and EVERHTING & she poses with heeseungs dick and adds a bow …

(Sorry for taking so long to respond to your request)

French Tip ~ L. HS

pairing: sugar-daddy!bf!heeseung x babygirl!gf!reader| wc: 1.3k | plot: after getting your nails done, you're excited to show Heeseung your fresh, new set. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! blow job, boob job, hand job, basically touching his dick in every way possible and snapping a few pictures lol bc why tf not (there're also a few cute moments hehe)

Having your boyfriend pay for your nails was nothing out of the ordinary to you. He did this almost every week, or whenever else he thought they should be done.

Sometimes you would ask for his input, but today was not one of those days. You wanted to surprise him with a fresh, natural-looking set.

French Tips...

"When you finish getting your nails done, send me a pic. I wanna see what they look like," he said before kissing you on the cheek. You could still smell the scent of coffee from this morning in the air.

That alone was addicting enough, but when the scent of his Channel cologne was mixed in only one thing was on your mind. And that was getting back in bed with him. Or at least pleasing him while he tells you how pretty you look.

"Okay," you smiled softly as you looked into his sweet doe eyes. You pulled the gold chain of your black clutch bag over your shoulder as you headed out the door.

You would've loved for him to take you to your nail appointment today, but he had some business to take care of at home. To be specific, he had a very important meeting over Zoom with a few of his colleagues concerning a very important business deal, which he made crystal clear to you the day before.

Before heading to your appointment, you stopped to place an order for some desserts. Heeseung planned to have a business party next week and he left you in charge of the food.

"Why do you want me to do it? Can't you just hire someone else to take care of this," you asked, not because you had a problem with it, more so for the reason that you were honestly curious.

"Well, you have good taste," he smiled.

"Mhm, sure I do."

"Well, that and you taste good," he smirked, pulling you close to flick his tongue across your lips.

You took a sip from your water bottle as you walked into the beauty salon. "Good morning, Dear. Are you here for your 9 o'clock appointment?" Mrs. Yanez asked from behind the desk.

"Yes, ma'am," you smiled.

"Alright, I'm just gonna log you in," she said as she clacked away at her keyboard. "Do you know what you want to do today?"

"Yes, I'll need a full, fresh set along with a mani-pedi."

"Did you want a massage as well?"

"No, that's alright."

"You sure, it's 30 percent off today. Plus you've accumulated a total of 1500 pretty points with us."

"Hmm, well I'll definitely use those points another day," you smiled. "And as much as I would love a discounted massage, I kinda wanna get back home a little early today."

"Ooh, Mr. Lee must be home today," she teased.

"Yes, he is," you chuckled.

"Well, then I won't keep you waiting any longer," she smiled before pushing a small black button. She often reminded you of the tía-sobrina relationship you never had. You could talk to her about anything, and trust me...she wanted to hear it.

"Right this way, Miss," a masked employee nodded as you followed her to the back. You giggled as Mrs. Yanez playfully waved to you with a smirk on her face.

You sat down in a soft leather chair as you explained what look you were going for today. "I would like a natural-looking set. Almost like French tips, but with natural shades."

"So no white tip?"

"Well white like the color of my natural nails," you explained pointing to the whites of your nails.

"Okay, perfect. I can do that for you. Gloss or not gloss?"

"Gloss," you smiled, as the lady turned around to pick from the colors on her shelf. A nude color, an off-white color, and a pale yellow--which she mixed with the white to match the natural color of your nails.

Having a custom color mixed made your nails feel pretty unique. Plus, this was a style you never tried before, so you were excited to see how they'd come out.

After about 45 minutes you were ready to go. Two people ended up working on you which sped up the process.

"Tell Heeseung I said hello," Mrs. Yanez smiled as you walked out.

"I will," you chuckled as she waved to you.

You climbed into your car before heading over to a nearby boba shop to pick up some drinks. Matcha for you and brown sugar for him. You liked extra boba and he liked extra syrup. These were little details you could never forget.

*Click* you snapped a shot of you holding the brown sugar boba because it looked better with your nails, even though it was for Heeseung.

Within seconds he opened the message and hearted the pic you sent. "They look nice, babe," he texted. You were surprised he even said that much.

"Maybe his meeting hasn't started yet. Or maybe they canceled it," you thought to yourself. Either way, you couldn't wait to get back home.

"Heeseung?" you called out as you stepped out of your shoes. Your car keys, clutch bag, and phone balanced between your fingers as you carried both of the drinks over to the counter. You had drunk about a fourth of your by the time you made it home.

You placed yours on the counter as you walked into his home office.

You knocked softly as you opened the door. Heeseung didn’t say a single word, but the look on his face told you everything. “I’m a little busy right now, babe. You can come back later, okay.”

You paused in both shock and embarrassment for a moment before a cheeky smirk appeared on your face. You closed the door behind you before walking over to his desk.

He was trying his best not to look at you, but you could tell he wanted to.

You placed his drink on the desk next to him before crawling under the desk. As professional as Heeseung tried to be at times, he loved wearing his sweat pants and you liked them too.

They were comfortable and made pulling his dick out so much easier.

You fiddled around with his drawstring causing him to wiggle a bit from your touch before you managed to get his dick out. You felt him harden between your palms as you stroked him up and down. That's when an idea popped into your head.

You pulled your phone out and snapped a shot of his tip against your tongue. You placed your phone down beside you as you began to suck him off. You felt him lean forward slightly, trying his best to contain his excitement.

You kissed the head of his dick to give him a chance to readjust himself. You could hear the voices of his colleagues coming from his computer as you continued to suck him off. You pulled back to unbutton your blouse using your tits to take the place of your hands as you jerked him off.

*Click* you took another pic of his dick nestled in between your tits.

You traced your tongue up the length of his shaft before taking it back in your mouth. It wasn't long before you heard him getting ready to end the call.

You looked up at him from under the desk. "Couldn't wait until after my meeting," he asked with a smirk.

You shook your head no as you continued to bob your head on his cock.

"Did you at least enjoy yourself?"

"Hmm...almost. I still feel like I'm missing a little something."

"And what would that be?" he asked cheekily, though he was fully aware of what you wanted...especially after you opened your mouth to tap his tip on your tongue.

He grabbed your head, shoving it down as he pumped himself into your mouth. Just as he was getting ready to cum he pulled your head back to coat your tongue.

*Click* He took a photo of your sitting between his legs with his cum all over your tongue and a dazed look on your face.

He paused to tap away at his phone before sending a pic of you with a bow edited on your head looking completely cum drunk.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmo

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