#i usually stop when i have something to work towards or for. but if i see no means to do so i give up.

[sincerelybubbles]

i've noticed you

pairing: spencer reid x profiler!reader

warnings: fluff, not proof read (as is the usual oops), slightly slightly suggestive

word count: 2.6k

it's a late night in the office. dim light casts shadows across the bull pen. you squint your tired eyes to focus them on the document in your hand. hours have passed since everyone else went home but you stayed behind. something about pushing into the early hours of the weekend to finish off a long week is better for your mental health than leaving the documents for monday. the totality of closing the folder, marking it complete, and filing it away allows you to push the details of your cases to the back of your mind. you can't forget them entirely, of course, and nightmares still haunt you, but this is the best system you've found to make yourself feel better, even if only marginally.

a call of your name, soft and familiar, startles you. you jump, chair pushing back a few inches. you look up to see spencer standing in the doorway, giving you a confused look. his bag is strapped across his chest, hands clutching it, eyebrows raised. he's dressed more casually than you're used to: a plain blue shirt, khaki pants, his usual dress shoes. his hair is messy and his eyes look sleepy behind the confusion, like he'd only just woken up.

"hey, reid," you say, catching a yawn in the middle of saying his name. "you scared me."

"i could say the same to you. what are you doing here at," he checks his watch, flicking his wrist to right it in a movement that has your chest tightening. "3:46 in the morning on a saturday?"

"i could say the same to you," you mimic him, sending him a wide smile. you lift up your documents when he sends you an unamused look, waving the folder. "just finishing up before the weekend."

"you have over two weeks to have those reports filed, though?"

"helps me sleep better to have them done, i guess. you never answered me, though -- why are you here?"

"ironically, to help myself sleep," spencer answers, crossing the room in swift, long strides to reach his desk behind yours. he deposits his bag and turns to you, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "i get nightmares and sometimes the best thing to do is try to get some work done. helps my conscious, i guess. or, at least keeps me busy."

you nod and watch him make his way to the kitchen. "that makes sense."

"i'll be back," he calls to you over his shoulder.

you hear his return a few minutes later, eyes trained on your file again. you don't look up this time, now that you know who it is. you're too focused on finishing these last few documents and fully aware that it's sort of hard to stop looking at spencer once you start.

the gentle click of a mug hitting your desk grabs your attention, though, and you tear your eyes from the page to look up.

spencer is leaning across your desk, nudging a yellow mug toward you, smiling widely. your throat tightens, a quick flash of pleasant awareness of him, and you swallow it away.

"what's this?" you ask, reaching for the mug. he doesn't let go as you expected and your fingers brush against each other. he shrugs instead of answering, leaning back against the desk next to yours and taking a sip from his own mug.

"coffee."

you take a sip, surprised to find it made exactly how you like. you can't remember ever telling him what you like and your cheeks heat at the gesture. you're grateful that the only lamp on is yours, hiding the heat from him.

"how'd you know how i like it?" you ask, taking a sip.

"i pay attention," he says, eyes trained on yours.

"to people's coffee preferences?"

"to yours, sure."

before you can properly allow that to sink into your exhausted mind, spencer sets his mug on your desk before grabbing his own files. "mind if i join you?" he asks, dragging the nearest chair over. "at least until you go home for the night."

"yeah, sure, i could use the company," you say, clearing space for him.

||||

5:53 AM

you: [attached image]

you: i promise i'm on the way, just having the worst morning. once i get this tire fixed, i'll let you know

you sigh, throwing your phone in your bag and squatting down to examine your blown tire. you don't know what you hit but you do know it's the start to an already sour morning.

you slept with your window propped open, despite how many times you've seen that go poorly for victims, and it rained, drenching your curtains. you didn't get to pack a lunch after dealing with that and usually, you eat breakfast at the office, so now you're on the side of the wet road, blown tire, and late for the first time in years.

your phone buzzes twice and you stand to dig it out of your bag.

5:55 AM

morgan: bad morning, pretty girl?

hotchner: don't worry about it, stay safe.

you roll your eyes at morgan, chest feeling lighter at hotch's reply. you hadn't expected him to be angry, this wasn't something anyone could foresee, but his answer still lessens the anxiety in your chest.

you climb into your car, turning on the heat and holding your hands to the vent for a few moments. you sit there for a few minutes past when you've thawed, dreading reentering the wet morning to change the tire.

the sound of a car door opening and shutting grabs your attention and you look in the rearview to see spencer walking toward you, hitting the button to lock one of the company vans. he's holding a bag in his hands, walking briskly to avoid getting too wet in the morning mist.

you throw open the passenger door when he gets close enough and watch as he folds himself in the car, shutting the door and adjusting his jacket.

"hello," you say, amused, "fancy seeing you here. did hotch send you?"

"i volunteered, here." he hands you the bag. you look at him for a moment longer, watching as he fixes his hair. you return your focus to the bag when he looks over at you, embarrassed to be caught.

you find one of the kitchen muffins and a banana in the bag. you stare at it for a moment, fully aware that this is exactly what you eat most mornings at work.

"i know you usually eat at work and didn't know if you had anything here," spencer explains.

"you noticed that?"

"i noticed you," he says. your eyes snap up to meet his, heart fluttering in your chest. he doesn't look embarrassed, eyes meeting yours steadily.

you struggle to find words, heart beyond touched by the gesture. you end up muttering, "thank you, spencer."

"you're welcome." there's a moment's pause while you come to terms with the fact that this can no longer be considered one of your worst mornings. "also, there was betting about if you could change a tire."

"ah, so you're here because you didn't believe in me?"

"well," he says, cheeky, smiling over at you. "you are just sitting in your car, decidedly not changing your tire."

"i was working myself up to it!" you say in defense. it's insane to you how quickly he has shifted your mood in just a few minutes.

he shakes his head at you, smiling slightly, and pops his door open, "open the back," he says, stepping out.

you do as he says, opening the trunk and getting out after him.

"i really was going to do it, you don't have to," you say, following him around the back of the car and watching him shift the things around to find your spare tire.

"i got it. go sit in the car, it's cold." he rolls his sleeves up, sending you a look.

you watch his hands as he moves the fabric up, exposing his forearms. you swallow, mouth dry, as he moves to the other arm, wrists flexing and bringing his veins into focus.

"i'm not sitting in my car while you do all the work," you refute, voice wavering, tearing your eyes away from his hands. you feel like a silly schoolgirl, ogling at her crush. or, better yet, like a scandalized victorian man seeing a hint of ankle for the first time, entranced by the barest hint of innocent skin. still, under the heat of embarrassment, you can't stop yourself from shifting your weight from foot to foot watching him lift the tire from your trunk.

"why not?" he asks, carrying the donut under one arm and walking over to the flat tire. you watch him, entranced, as he crouches down to examine the flat.

"it feels wrong! really, spence," you say, walking over to him and leaning down to catch his forearm and get his attention. "you don't have to change it for me, i'm more than capable."

"i know," he says, turning to look up at you from under his lashes. he smiles, still just a hint at the corner of his lips, and nods toward the car. "still, go sit, it's cold."

"spence-" you start and he rolls his eyes, standing up so he can look down at you and crossing his arms.

he says your name lowly, leaning back against the car and raising an eyebrow. "get in the car, this will only take me a minute."

he doesn't wait for your answer, pushing himself off of the car and walking to the trunk to grab the tool kit. stunned and slightly turned on, you slowly walk back to the drivers side of the car.

"good, now eat, too," he calls.

you grab the bag of food when you sit down, letting your legs hang down outside of the car. he stands up straighter to see you over the hood of the car and grins at you, "thank you."

||||

hands sweating and heart racing, you press the button on the elevator and watch the door close. you clutch the little bag between two of your hands, rolling your head back to stretch it and stare at the ceiling.

you're a profiler, you know people, you know that your ever-growing crush on spencer is reciprocated. his face as he said "i noticed you" is the last thing you see before you sleep and you know you aren't misinterpreting the signs. still, anxiety pools when the elevator dings and you step off.

you roll out your shoulders and step into the bull pen with confidence you have to fake, putting a smile on your face and holding the little bag behind your back slightly.

"morning angel," penelope calls to you, swinging around the corner and linking her arm with yours. "did you have any fun hot dates this weekend? please say yes, i am in desperate need of someone to live vicariously through -- my love life is dry in all definitions of the word."

"sorry love," you say, patting her arm and sending her a sympathetic look. "still working on that plan i mentioned a few weeks ago."

"wait," she says, suddenly stopping and forcing you to as well. "really? because you were all gung-ho about maintaining a sense of workplace appropriate behavior and all of that other blah hr speak."

"well," you say with a shrug, smiling at the ground, "i don't know, can't a girl change her mind?"

"she most certainly can. in fact, i have right now!" you look up at her suddenly ultra cheerful voice and see spencer walking into the room, hands in his pockets and heading right for you with a smile as a greeting. "i have decided that i'm not walking you to your desk and we'll chat over lunch instead. bye!"

just as quickly as she arrived, penelope left, scampering away to her office with a grin stretching across her face. she's your best friend, the one person you tell everything, and also the source of your greatest annoyance, leaving you alone in the hallway.

"what was that about?" spencer asks, reaching you and stopping only half a step away.

"just garcia being garcia," you say, shrugging.

"well, goodmorning," spencer says, tucking his chin down to look at you better. "have a good weekend?"

"i did," you say, swallowing in a deep breath to steel your nerves. "i actually managed to go to that bookstore you told me about."

"oh really?" spencer asks, excitement animating his face. "did you talk to the store owner? she's super cool, i actually learned a lot from her about book binding last time i visited. she has a little workshop in the back."

"i did, actually. i had to get her help finding a specific book," you say, holding the bag out to him.

"oh, which one?"

"open it and see."

"it's for me?" spencer asks, looking genuinely caught off-guard. he takes the bag slowly, as if expecting you to rip it away. you nod encouragingly and he takes the cue to lift the paper out of the bag and then the book. "wait, no way. this is so cool! i've been searching for it for ages."

you watch as he opens the book and his eyes widen finding it signed. he slowly, reverently, flips the pages to look at the publication date and his eyes flick to meet yours.

"this is a first edition?"

"yeah."

"this is- how did you know?"

"i noticed you, too," you say, voice soft and hesitant. you take the half step forward so your toes are touching. surprisingly, your anxiety is nowhere to be found as you look up at him, smiling, chest warm and fingertips tingling. "i hope that's okay."

"beyond, actually," spencer answers, voice softer. the hand holding the bag and book falls, his other one lifting to your cheek, hesitant. he brushes his fingers across your cheekbone gently before moving his hand to cup the back of your neck and bringing you in for a hug. .

it's exactly how you expected hugging spencer to be, warm and all-consuming. he laughs, gentle, a vibration you can feel through his chest and into yours.

"what?" you ask, face buried in his chest.

"it's amazing how hard i'm fighting to not kiss you right now. i always thought i would be too nervous - i mean, obviously, i've kissed people before. not that that's what i should be talking about right now, but, i just mean, it's different with you. you make me happy in a way that makes me nervous, you know?"

"i know," you say, softly, cutting off his rambling with a hidden smile. he's still holding you in the empty hallway and you would love nothing more than to hear his rambling but you're also very aware that someone could walk in any moment.

you just hope that whatever this is leads to more of his thoughtless rambles - you've missed them, noticed how he's held himself back more, and you think nothing will make you happier than being the person he turns to with them.

"yeah. um, thank you. but now i'm not nervous, i'm just annoyed we're at work."

you laugh, pushing away from him, fixing his tie. "we have plenty of time, it's okay."

he doesn't say anything, his hand still on the back of your neck. instead, he slowly leans down to press his lips to your forehead. it's gentle, as if he's afraid the wrong move will break you or send you running, and you melt from it.

"plenty."

part two of it's a date will come soon!! i hope!!!! please take this as a peace offering <3 i got the idea of spencer changing a tire on my head and could NOT LET IT GO !!!! like i'm ngl, i made myself blush w this so i hope u all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

also also!! i usually like to keep my notes short but this is a reminder that my asks/inbox are always open!! and i read every reblog and comment and smile and giggle like a little kid when i see them. you all make my day every day and ily u all

#bubbs.writes #criminal minds #cm #x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #fluff #spencer reid x reader #bau team #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #bau #criminal minds fandom #spencer x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #getting together fic #tooth rotting fluff #enjoy enjoy enjoy!!!

[beenbaanbuun]

the friend - opposites attract universe

a knock against the door has hongjoong startled, pulling him from the task at hand. his hands that were delicately massaging your scalp soon disappear, instead finding their way to your shoulders to push you gently from his path. you whine in mock complaint as he shuffles you to sit in front of his husband instead, but then seonghwa’s skilled fingers lace themselves in your soft barnet and all is well again. your eyes flutter closed and your head tips back.

“fickle little thing,” hongjoong muses as he straightens his slacks. his fingers brush over the pinstriped material, knocking away the creases from sitting in them, before he begins to move towards the archway that separates the living room from the foyer. “she really will crumble for anyone who shows her attention.”

he mutters that last bit under his breath, sharing an amused chuckle with himself as he wraps his hand around the brass doorknob. the wooden door is heavy and takes more than a little effort to yank open, but with a helpful hand from someone on the other side, it seems much easier. the ringed hand that came to his aid soon drops from the ornate door, swinging back down to the side of its owner. hongjoong can’t help but smile when he sees who it belongs to—his good friend song mingi is at his door.

hongjoong smiles at the man as he takes his sunglasses off and tucks them in the pocket of his black hoodie; it was a style choice hongjoong never really got behind, but mingi insisted that dressing so casually was ‘cool’ and not to mention ‘handy for his line of work.’ hongjoong is still convinced that you can take care of werewolves whilst dressing properly, but after several conversations on the matter, he’s come to the conclusion that mingi is simply just too stubborn to care. it’s fine, hongjoong tells himself; it’s all a part of what makes the giant on his doorstep so loveable.

“no yunho today?” hongjoong asks as he sidesteps just enough to let mingi through the door. “you two are normally inseparable.” there’s a strange expression on mingi’s face as hongjoong moved to push the door closed. it’s sheepish and shy and not at all like mingi, almost as if he’s ashamed of something. the door clicks shut just as the taller man shrugs which in itself is suspicious. the pair are normally attached at the hip; for mingi to not know exactly where the artist is at any given point in time is wrong. hongjoong sucks his teeth like he’s about to start scolding a child. “mingi, what have you done?”

“nothing!” the young man complains, tone defensive and annoyed. “why would you assume it’s me that’s done something and not yunho?”

its said like a child blaming their sibling for something, and hongjoong has to tense all of his face muscles to stop himself from cracking a smile. mingi makes it almost impossible for him not to have a soft spot for the man. so selfless yet so childish, hongjoong finds it easy to adore him. it’s probably why he’s been friends with the unsophisticated rascal for so many years.

“because i know if yunho had done something he would’ve already apologised and fixed the matter at hand,” it’s true, although it is entirely possible that yunho had apologised for something and mingi was just being his usual difficult self about it. hongjoong suspects that if that were the case, though, the man in his foyer would be a whole lot poutier. he thinks its safe to assume that this is a mingi-caused problem, as so many things are. “now tell me what’s wrong or i’ll invite yunho over to tell me himself.”

mingi’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking like a clock as he mulls over his options. on one hand, he doesn’t want to be scolded by hongjoong, on the other, he really doesn’t want to have to face yunho right now. he knows one look at his friend will have him bent double, begging for forgiveness and he’s not quite ready to do that. he wants to hang onto his pride for just a little while longer.

so he sighs and closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the berating he’s about to get from hongjoong. his lungs fill with oxygen and he’s just about to confess his wrongdoings when he hears it; the sound of his saviour.

“hongjoong?” your brashly optimistic voice echos through the room as the soft pitter-patter of your bare feet grows nearer, and for the first time ever, mingi finds himself thanking the devil for your existence. usually he’s pretty impartial to you, loving to tease you more than he loves you. now, though? demons, he could kiss you if he wasn’t absolutely sure that hongjoong would have yeosang pinning him to the floor by his throat within seconds.

screw the fact that mingi once cared for yeosang like he was one of his own; the once feral pup is well and truly loyal to the kim family now…

mingi watches as the lilac of your sweater-covered arms wraps around hongjoong’s waist like a belt. the man relaxes into your hold, the accusatory look on his face melting away as you tuck your face into his neck. “seonghwa was wondering how long you’d be. he misses you.”

hongjoong chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“you mean you miss me?” he purrs, brining a hand up to pet at your messed up hair. mingi’s surprised seonghwa let you slip from his grasp without carefully laying each individual strand of hair back into position. no doubt the man is seething about your escape in the next room over. “seonghwa can live without me for a few moments, dove. you, on the other hand, are forever proving that you can’t.”

“yeah, sure, whatever,” you admit, “i miss you, i guess.”

hongjoong cranes his neck to kiss the side of your head, a toothy grin on his face as he holds his lips to you for a few more seconds than necessary. mingi finds himself rolling his eyes at the unnecessary display of affection, but he’s be lying if he said he didn’t feel something stirring inside of his chest. it’s cute, he admits to himself, but that doesn’t mean he needs to see it. he’s actually more than grateful when hongjoong pulls away from you with a gentle sigh.

“let’s go back to the lounge then, my pretty little dove,” hongjoong murmurs, and mingi feels the weight of the world fall from his back. he’s have to thank you later for tearing hongjoong’s attention from him. “you can wake yeosang from his nap; i’m sure the mutt would be more than happy to see that mingi is here to visit.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #opposites attract universe #matz x reader #poly ateez #poly ateez x reader

[worldofkuro]

Hi, I love your fic and this may seem really random, you don't have you write it at all, but could you please do a self-harm!reader and Alastor comforting her, or just Alastor comforting her after finding her having a mental breakdown alone. I suggest maybe when their teens cause teens often have mental breakdowns (or maybe that was just me). Thanks again if you see this <3

Ohoh, dear, trust me, I know, even adults. Thank you for loving Painted Smile, it's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it! I wanted to warn you, it’s not fluff, this is how Painted Smile!Alastor would react and we all know he doesn’t work like a “normal” being, he is crazy and that is why we love him, I suppose. This is Alastor’s way of saving you from yourself. So please, if you are easily shocked, don’t read it. TW: Self harm

You were in front of the mirror, in the bathroom, looking at yourself with a blade in your hand. You didn’t know when you started crying but you just wanted this pain to end. You didn’t understand when you felt this never ending torment crawl in your mind. You had loving parents, friends that were here for you and yet, sometimes you feel lonelier than ever.

You didn’t remember the first time you dug the blade in your skin. Maybe it was because you needed to feel something real, something that would ground you. To save you from drowning, you felt the need to hurt your body.

Your body could heal, your mind couldn’t.

That was what you were telling yourself. Every wound would heal itself, because your body wanted to live, wanted to keep on living while your mind was torturing you with thoughts you felt like you didn’t deserve to have.

When did this agony begin..?

You held back a sob as blood was beginning to slide down your wrist. It was pretty, making you believe you were pretty inside. You didn't want to be a burden, you didn't want people to be condescending because you were feeling sad or anxious. They would send you to a hospital and never look back.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Even though the blade cut your skin, it wasn’t enough. You began to cut yourself once more, trying to go deeper until this torment inside your mind would stop.

“ Dearest ?”

You turned your head toward the door you were sure you had locked and there was Alastor, staring at you with his usual smile. You quickly hide your arms behind your back, your whole body shaking. 

You felt shame enveloping you in an uncomfortable hug. You opened your mouth but no words could come out. You didn’t know what was going to happen and you didn’t want to find out.

“ That’s a lot of blood. May I see?” he held his hand toward you, closing the door after him. You took a step back as he came closer, looking at the mess on the floor. You were shaking, angry with yourself to be found in that situation, angry at Alastor to discover your secret, you just felt.. angry.

“ No. Get out.. I don’t have time for jokes.” you tried to keep your voice strong even though it was only a mere whisper.

“ Who’s joking?” he took the blade from your shaking hands and stared at it before looking at you. He gently took your bloodied wrist on his hand with a soft smile. “ It’s going to scar.”

You looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he screaming at you, calling you crazy or hysterical ? You let him look at your wounds, you felt like this moment was more intimate than you realized. 

“ Do you want to keep going?” he tilted his head toward you making your eyes widened in shock. He wanted you to continue..? “ Your cut isn’t bad but this isn’t the best way to cut yourself, my dear.”

“ You… You aren’t angry..?”

“ With you? Of course not. But I’m curious, why are you cutting yourself?” he stroked your bloodied skin while staring at you. As you weakly tried to explain your inner turmoil Alastor was observing while wiping your tears and your blood from your skin. “ I see. Let’s go kill animals, it helps me when I’m feeling down!” he beamed at you.

“ What? No! Why? They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“ So did you, dearest. And yet, you’re still hurting yourself.” he tilted his head, seeming confused. You closed your mouth at his words, it echoed inside of you, you didn't do anything wrong and yet… “ Next time you want to hurt yourself, wait for me.”

“ Why..? Shouldn’t you try to stop me?”

“ Is it going to make you stop?” he stared at you as you weakly shook your head, this pain was something that you needed now, you didn’t feel like living without it anymore.. Even your body would beg you to do it sometimes…” That’s what I thought. So, my dearest friend, when you want to cut yourself, wait for me, I’ll cut you.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. Did he really say..?

“ Alastor… You..”

“ Like I told you, I know how to cut. Your cuts are messy and dangerous, you could have touched a veins here. So, if you allow me, I’ll cut you.” he pressed the blade slightly against your skin, making you gasp. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know what to think about it and yet.. It was oddly comforting to think Alastor, your friend, your special person, would do that for you.

“ Are we crazy, Alastor?” you whispered.

“ Completely insane, dear!” he laughed as he cleaned your wounds, already preparing bandages. He hummed before kissing your cut. “ One cut, one kiss, what about it?”

You nodded as he slid the blade against your skin, it wasn’t like you were doing. The blade wasn’t cutting deeply, it was enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t as messy as you would do. Alastor was staring at your face, observing every reaction. It was comforting, letting Alastor have his way with your life. He could kill you if he made a bad cut but you knew he never would.

You were letting him hold your life in his hands and it was… a good feeling. You knew Alastor was feeling the same, his pupils were dilated, you could hear his breathing getting harder, the same as yours.

You looked at the wounds as Alastor kissed it, getting dirty with your blood.

“ I’m used to scars that are made by hate and violence, I don’t want you to feel that. So, my dear, let me scar you with my affections for you.”

You didn’t know if you should be scared or disgusted but at that moment, you felt nothing but relief. You weren’t alone in this torment anymore.

#alastor headcanons #human alastor #human alastor x reader #x reader #painted smile headcanons #painted smile #human alastor headcanons #scenarios #alastor scenarios #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #TW:self harm

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

ballad about death | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

“no wonder you can’t get a date.”

you know morgan spoke it as a tease after spencer mentioned the new pages left at a scene were from an 1800 ballad about death, it still wasn’t a nice thing to say.

sitting in the chair across from his you swatted your case file at his knee. “hey!” a shocked expression at the action, you just narrowed your eyes at him with a tight mouth.

“enough. back to the debrief.” hotch’s stern tone pulled back the focus onto the active case. after discussing a few more things, everyone settled into their own world for the next three hours.

leaving behind derek you moved to join spencer on the couch as he flipped through the pages of a book. “can you really read two thousand words a minute?” keeping a low tone to not disturb anyone, also you wanted to keep it between you and spencer.

spencer’s fingers stopped their running and he lifted his eyes away from the pages, “actually it’s twenty thousand, but yes i can read that much in a minute. usually finish most novels within ten to fifteen minutes.”

you grinned at the knowledge, “is it usually novels or do you ready anything?” adjusting yourself to lean on your side, one knee propped on the cushions.

spencer nodded, “i read anything. also in six other languages. it’s fun to read certain works in their original form, sometimes the full story doesn’t translate.”

you perked up, “can you speak them or only read them?” “both, but elle prefers when i don’t speak spanish.”

your lip twitched, “can you say something? let me hear your favorite one.”

spencer looked down at his marked page then back up to your waiting face. he said something slow and his voice deepened just an octave, a whisper of an accent popping through on his last word. your lips parted at the mysterious sentence.

“what’d you say?” mesmerized on spencer’s pink cheeks. he scrunched his face for a moment, “that- that flowers are quite beautiful.”

you hummed, “they are. lillies are my favorite.” flashing a small tattoo of the plant on your inner wrist. spencer’s lip twitched, “sunflowers are my moms. used to keep a fresh vase in the living room.”

“you were her first sunflower. bet you always lit up her room.” shuffling closer towards spencer, head leaning against the back rest.

“some- some days.” he reached a hand to tuck some rouge hair away. “can i ask you a question?” brows pinched in thought.

“you just did but i’ll allow another.” grinning to make sure he knows it’s a joke. his eyes drifted back to his book and he bit into his bottom lip. you grew concerned, “hey, what’s wrong?” knocking a foot gently into spencer’s.

“do- do you think it’s true?” sounding broken. “what’s true?”

“that i can’t get a date.” oh you were gonna smack derek. “of course not,” moving closer across the couch, only leaving an inch of space left. “he’s jealous he didn’t think of the answer.”

spencer grumbled, “no he’s not.”

you insisted, “yes he is. knowledge is so attractive for the right girls. he has to show off his body just to get ladies.” you were almost tempted to just yell ‘i find you attractive! i want to date you!’

but instead you just sighed and said, “the right person will appear when the time is right. sometimes you have to let the universe take its time. but the wait will be worth it in the end.”

#erin writes spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x liaison!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[manifestobackshot]

Hoon who's so stressed after a Figure skating comp and just needs to take out all his stress on you <33

Stressed

Poor Hoon who can't even wait to properly be alone with you, his manager turned dirty little secret, to fuck.

    ✰ PAIRING

↳ park sunghoon x fem!reader

    ✰ GENRES & AUS

↳ smut, figure skater!sunghoon au, secret relationship

    ✰ WORD COUNT

↳ 1.3k words

    ✰ WARNINGS/CONTENT

↳ reader is sunghoon's manager, they have sex in secret, car sex, biting, pain kinda, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, biting, sunghoon is a little selfish

if you read, please reblog.

—

It was a bad run for Sunghoon, showed up late and lost 15 minutes of preparation, couldn't land his routine as he usually does, didn't place like he usually does. As a perfectionist, this fucked him up more than anything. Even worse, his coach scolds him after, going on about how conditioning obviously wasn't conditioning him enough, how this season seems to be the beginning of his downfall, how so much work goes into molding and shaping Sunghoon into the perfect skater, and yet he still manages to end up like this.

His coach has more words to say, but as you pass by, he stops his scolding and calls you over, "Christ, I can't anymore. Do you have the manager's spare I gave you?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Just take him out to the van first, I don't have the energy right now. Sunghoon, show up at 6 am tomorrow, not 7 am. We clearly have work to do," he finishes, rolling his eyes and storming off.

You two walk out to the parking garage alone, passing by a couple cars exiting. It's quiet on the way there, not a peep from Sunghoon, only the sounds of cars, the rustling of his competition bag, and your footsteps.

You approach and unlock the team van, opening the door and letting Sunghoon in the backseat before climbing in with him. You have some room to sit, talk, and ask what the fuck happened in the comfort of idle time and tinted windows.

Surprisingly, Sunghoon is first to ask something, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Mm," you acknowledge, dropping your professional manager act and inching closer to him, leaning on his shoulder.

"Help me out," he starts, taking your hand into his and guiding it onto his abdomen, trailing it down towards his sweats, "relieve some stress for me?"

You know that the rest of the team, coach included, take forever to deal with things after the competition. Usually, Hoon would be back there mingling and whatnot for at least another half hour. Right now, you have the time.

...And how could you ever say no to him when he's like this? Aching against your hand, cold palms guiding you to where he wants you most, face flushed with frustration and humiliation from the verbal ass-whooping handed to him, instability in his voice from anger... no isn't even on your mind.

You don't even say anything to him as you gently move his hand so you can slightly roll over and quickly undo the button on your black jeans, sliding them and your panties down your thighs and off of you to place them in the front seat for easy access later on.

Sunghoon, though he wants you so bad right now, doesn't say anything as he waits for you to get ready for him to fuck you. He just looks at you, lips parted and brows slightly furrowed, overwhelmed with both frustration and need to release. His sweats and boxer briefs are pulled down just enough to release his cock, swelled with arousal, so he can spit in his hand and swipe it over his pink tip and stroke himself in anticipation.

You know he gets quiet when he's angry, and he loves to fuck when he's angry. It's nothing against you, in fact, he can express himself much better through his action than his words in moments like this.

And express himself he does when you hover over him to lower yourself onto him, sacrificing your comfort and preparation to take care of your dear skater Sunghoon, and he places his hands on your hips, pushing you down onto his length with a searing stretch that feels good only because it's him.

He hisses entering you dry like this, enjoying the warmth of your walls but missing the wetness, though, in this moment, he doesn't care. In time, you'll be exactly what he needs, he knows it.

Words can't express how disappointed he is in himself, how frustrated he is, how mad he is at his coach, or how good you feel around him. All he can do is bury his face in the crook of your neck as he lifts your hips to set the pace he wants you to fuck him at—rough and fast.

You give in, keeping up with the direction his hands are so desperately signaling to you. You look down at him as he's focused on how it feels to fuck it out, thick, dark eyebrows knitted in pleasure and chasing release.

When Sunghoon looks up, you feel the tip of his nose and the plushness of his lips trail upwards before leaving you, replacing the sensation with his teeth grazing—no, biting— your neck.

It's hard to match his desperation and fuck him as hard as he wants you when he's locked onto you like this, thrusting upwards into you. You roll your hips into him, causing the seats of the car to buck and creak with every movement.

Still, it isn't enough for Sunghoon, muffling frustrated whimpers against the skin of your neck—now purple and red—as he tries to bury himself deeper, deeper, and deeper into you. Maybe, if he buries his cock into you deep enough, he'll be numb to the anger.

Truthfully, though, it's clear that he still feels every ounce of anger in his body, and he's making you feel it too. His strokes are vicious and sharp, tip hitting your cervix every time he bottoms out. It hurts, but you let him, cause you know he needs it.

Hoon feels blissfully painful inside of you as he drags his length against your walls, face still buried in your neck, kissing, licking, and biting you. He loves the way you feel wrapped around him, slowly becoming wetter as he fucks you so, so well.

He groans, both out of frustration and how good your cunt feels as he mercilessly uses you to relieve his stress. His hair clings to your skin as sweat sticks you two together with Sunghoon's face buried into your neck and chest, breathing heavily as he chases his orgasm.

The sound of your wet cunt makes his eyelids flutter closed, long eyelashes softly brushing against your skin as he imagines how hot it must look for you, all sloppy and swollen, to take his cock this roughly. He wishes he had to time and space to lay you out and see himself stretch your tight pussy out on his cock, taking every inch of him like he know you can.

He loves having you like this, knowing that you'd do anything for him even though it means you hurt a little more for him. You ache, for his pleasure. You act, for his pleasure.

Sunghoon grips the flesh on your hips harder, so strongly that you know it'll bruise and ache for days after, a reminder of him. He grabs you and slams you into him, bottoming out every time without failure, at an ever-increasing, delicious pace.

His breathing picks up and he slides down the seat just the slightest bit so he can fuck up into you even better. Hoon can't hide anymore, moans escaping his hips as he pushes you down further, and further, until he's moaning in desperation of release.

As he's pounding mercilessly into your sopping wet cunt, with one sharp motion, he fully sheaths himself into you one last time, shooting his hot, anguished cum inside of you, shuddering against your skin as he shallowly fucks the last drops of cum out of himself.

Out of breath, he pulls out of you, letting his load drip out of you onto his sweatpants before you carefully roll over to start cleaning up.

"Sorry," he exhales, "was a little stressed."

#admin monkey #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

[honeygrahambitch]

Hannibal entered the house as quietly as possible, as delicate as a cat. He needed to make sure Will wouldn't come to greet him.

Now where would Will be at that time? The living room? Their bedroom? He wouldn't be in the kitchen for sure since Hannibal was supposed to cook dinner later on. That's where he decided to head to. He would find everything he needed in there, before Will would have a chance to see him.

He limped towards the kitchen, not as gracious as he usually was. He froze in the doorframe when he found Will unpacking groceries and putting them into the fridge.

"Welcome back." Will said before looking at Hannibal. The door of the fridge blocked his sight. "Thought that I should do some grocery shopping while you were out with your motor."

"Thoughtful of you, darling." Hannibal replied, looking for an excuse to leave the kitchen instantly. "I will take a shower and then we can prepare dinner together."

"No, no, wait. Come here and give me a kiss. You always do that when you come home." Will said as he closed the fridge door.

Hannibal knew he was screwed the moment Will scanned him from head to toes.

He could a drop of blood flowing from his temple and travelling down his cheek.

Will's lips remained slightly parted as he took in the view, his eyes stuck to the very visible and bloody wound on Hannibal's left temple.

"What did you do?" He finally asked as he took a towel from the counter and dampened in warm water from the sink. "Were you trying to hide?"

"Drunk car driver and yes, I was trying to avoid unnecessarily worrying you." Hannibal replied to both questions, while Will carefully cleaned his face, taking extra care when he reached the sensitive spot. He turned Hannibal's head with his other hand, trying to get a better look. He shook his head in disapproval.

"Where else does it hurt?"

"It's just that."

"Hannibal."

"Will." Then Hannibal hissed as Will poked his ribs.

"So your left ribs as well. And I suppose you are also limping on your left leg. And I don't need you to confirm that. Idiot."

"As if I have never fallen before."

"I don't contest that but I am part of your life now and I am not taking your crap. Play pretend with someone else. Now let's get you in the shower so I can make sure nothing else got fucked up."

"Your southern accent always shows up when you are angry." Hannibal commented, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips.

"Don't you enjoy that..." Will murmured as he carefully wrapped an arm around Hannibal's middle to help him walk towards the bedroom. "Tell me you remember his plate number."

"I do."

"I might have to take care of something before we cook dinner."

"We can take care of that together some other day."

"No drunk driver messes up with my husband. All you have to do is to think what you want to make out of him."

"Okay." Hannibal accepted, truly enjoying it when that part of Will showed up. "I find you very attractive when you get worked up like that." He confessed as Will was helping him take of his clothes.

"Nice try but tonight you are resting. So you can stop flirting." Will replied, even if deep down, he enjoyed as well the rare moments when Hannibal was vulnerable just for him.

"It was worth trying. I will keep flirting though."

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

[peaches-and-creamm]

𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓪

wc: 3.4k or so

WARNINGS: fem reader, semi-public sex, soft dom!Megumi, sub!reader. p in v, unprotected sex, cumming inside, use of pet names- giving and receiving; baby, pretty girl, good girl, and an established relationship. breeding if you squint???

CHARACTERS OF AGE / OR AGED UP!

A/N: basically you n megumi fuck outside by the vending machines lmao, i havent written smut in so long so sorry if its ass LMAOO

M.LIST ♥

✦•······················•♥•······················•✦

Ever since it started getting hotter outside everyone, of course, switched to their summer uniforms.

And although the boys usually would just trash their shirts off to the side if they happened to get too sweaty or something during training, Megumi preferred to just relax in the shadows, observing while he drank his water.

His gaze found its way to you, though(as always). The way you were swinging around your practice sword, how your chest bounced while you hoisted the piece of wood above you, swinging down and to the side towards where your sparring partner was.

Megumi found it hard to even focus on anything else but how your body moved, each twist and turn you did to avoid incoming attacks making his stomach turn in a way he usually tries to avoid. He hated feeling like some kind of pervert who watches women just exist- doing normal things and getting aroused by it, yet he couldn't stop to even imagine anything other than how your body looks in that pretty new uniform you'd just gotten.

His attention was finally turned to something else- forcefully, mind you. He'd completely forgotten he himself was supposed to be doing hand-to-hand today, but now he could only look to his palm and remember how soft your chest felt. He balled his hand into a fist and shook his head to clear some of the lewd thoughts that raced through his mind, he knew he had to stop himself before this went any further- and he practically forced himself to no longer look in your direction.

Though when his deep blue eyes met your own his breath caught in his throat- it was like it was the first time you two met all over again. And, when you smiled and waved in his direction before getting smacked upside the head by your sparring partner for being distracted so easily, he gulped- a small dusting of pink coating his cheeks as he quickly avoided his gaze, opting to watch the ground as he walked towards where the vending machines were.

After not too long, he saw your distinct figure from the corner of his eye, your bouncy walk and happy smile on your face as you approached him.

"Hey Megumiiii!" You said happy as you stood beside him, watching as he pressed the button on the machine without even having to look at what he's getting. He knew already, ginger soda- as always. What would be the point of giving it his attention when you were right next to him?

He gulped as he gave you a once over, his gaze lingering on a stray hair that was stuck to your sweat clad forehead, lingering on how your cheeks were red because of your previous movements- he thought it was cute. 

He loved watching how proud you looked after you'd win a practice fight, and he could tell by how excited you looked that you'd most likely won, even including the fact you were distracted for a moment.

"Hey." He simply spoke with a small smile on his face, not looking you in the eyes while he inspected how the sweat you had worked up had caused your shirt to stick to your soft skin.

The vending machine clunked as his drink fell out, but before he could bend down to grab it you reached your hand up to his shoulder to pull him down slightly so your lips could meet in a brief kiss onto his own cold lips.

He blinked a few times in surprise before his eyes met yours for a moment. He cleared his throat once, a pink dusting his cheeks he leaned down to grab his drink.

"Saw ya' sulking on the bleachers, you okay megs?" You innocently questioned, your head tilted to the side as you scanned his body for any possible injuries of the sort.

"Huh? I wasn't sulking..?" He leaned down to reach through the metal flap of the spot in the machine that dispenses the drink and he grabbed it with a large hand.

He fiddled with the tab of the drink, eyes glued to it as his cheeks got hotter while he thought of how your lips felt. His eyebrows furrowed as he found focus in pushing the tab up and down, causing a little 'dink' noise every time he flicked the cool metal.

You hummed to yourself as you watched him fidget, your lips pursing together as you looked him up and down a few times. You put your hand over his that held the can and his gaze went from your hand, up your arm and finally scouring your face, taking in every detail.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You quietly asked, your hand moving to let go of his own but he quickly caught you by your wrist, holding you still for a moment before clearing his throat again and letting you go.

"No, no..just.... distracted, I guess.." He scratched the back of his neck with a shrug, feeling the sweat that had formed on the skin from his lewd thoughts alone.

"Oh, Is everything okay?" You stood closer to him, a comforting hand finding itself onto his shoulder. You rubbed gentle circles onto his tense shoulder with a warm smile on your face.

His grip tightened around the drink and you could hear how the metal crinkled under his hold. You saw how his jaw flexed when he clenched his teeth together and your face twisted to that of worry.

"Megum-" Before you could get your words out the can clunked to the concrete and his large, cold hands were on either side of your face.

"Let me kiss you." He plainly said, his eyes not leaving yours as he waited for an answer. The expression on his face was almost unreadable, and while he waited for your response he moved one of his hands to grasp at your hip, stumbling into you and forcing you to take a few steps back.

You gasped at the feeling of the cold brick wall meeting the wet of your back, your shirt sticking further onto you. You shivered as his thumb found its way under the bottom of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your hip bone. It was then you realized how much he was panting, how flustered and almost...uncomfortable he looked while staring into your eyes.

You slowly nodded to him, your cheeks red as your hand shakily met his own that held your face. He took a step back, giving you room to breathe before he shut his eyes and shook his head.

"Say it out loud, I wanna hear you say it-" He said as his thumb grazed over your lower lip, letting out a shaky breath when you parted your lips to begin speaking.

"Kiss me-" You uttered quietly, and he quickly lurched forwards to you, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands and squishing your lips to his- the hold he had on you almost hurt but your teeth clashing together was a distraction.

You hummed into the kiss, one hand gently cupping his cheek and the other tangled in his dark hair. But after a moment he seemed to become greedier, him trying to lean further into you. You winced as the brick wall scratched against your skin through your damp shirt.

"Gumi- megumi, hey-" You pushed back against his chest to gain some distance between the two of you. He only hummed in acknowledgement, not bothering to look away from your lips- too distracted with how he already missed how they felt on his own.

"What?" His blue eyes flickered from your mouth to your own eyes a few times before settling on that piece of hair that stuck to your forehead, gently brushing it to the side and cupping your red cheek in his palm.

"What's gotten into you? I-I mean I'm not complaining but-" You stuttered a bit, your hand moving to hold his wrist while your hand on his chest messed with his uniform top.

"But?" He quirked an eyebrow at you, his eye twitching as he forced himself to look away from your body and into your eyes.

You watched him shuffle from side to side, almost nervously. He could tell he was beginning to get antsy, the sight of you in front of him (practically pinned to the wall by him, might I add.) made his pants feel all the more tighter.

 He'd never gotten like this before- he hated even kissing in public but now, the thought of taking you right here and now made his mind go feral with all sorts of thoughts- mostly memories of you when you’ve been under him. 

He gulped and rested his head on your shoulder, taking deep, shaky breaths as his hand gripped at your arm.

"But you're not acting like usual. Should I be worried?" You joked slightly, a hand traveling through his dark hair. He shivered when he felt your nails scrub at his scalp, and cringed at how he was acting. 

It was true- he hated whenever he got like this, especially in public, but he just didn't find it in him to care. No, not with how he felt your chest rise when you giggled at him, you finding how he hid his red face in your shoulder cute.

Your giggle was cut off with an unexpected yelp when his teeth nipped at the underside of your jaw, he felt his body tense up at how your breath got caught in your throat.

"fuck-" He mumbled under his breath, pulling away so the two of you could look at eachother eye to eye. He parted your lips with his thumb and sucked in a sharp breath when you pulled the digit between your lips for a moment, your tongue barely sliding over it before softly kissing it.

"Want you-" He cut himself off slightly, groaning inwardly at how desperate he sounded. "Now, preferably." 

He pushed your hips back so they met the wall, his leg sliding in between your knees so you open your legs more- giving him plenty of room to situate his own hips against yours. You took in a deep breath as you felt his bulge pressing against your tummy, your hands reaching up to grab at his broad shoulders to keep yourself feeling steady.

"N-now...? H-here?!" You squeaked out, grip against him tightening. He brought a finger to your lips to quiet you, shushing you gently.

“Can’t if you keep being loud about it, now can we?” He gulped as he puckered your lips together, his tongue wetting his own, now empty feeling, dry lips as he admired the redness in yours.

"Oh, u-um...." You sucked in a breath through your teeth, shivering at how he tugged the collar of your shirt down some to nip at your collar bones.

"Say stop and I will." He held you by the shoulders, his hot breath fanning across your face as he tried his hardest to keep it steady.

"Say stop." He brought one of the hands up to your red hot cheek and melted when you leaned into his palm. You went to shake your head, then realized he wanted verbal conformation again so you took a deep breath, gulped, then spoke.

"don't stop...." He took a deep shaky breath at this and he put his hands up either side of your head, steading himself on the wall he was now pinning you to.

"I don't....have, uh-" He gulped nervously, letting out a breathy- awkward laugh.

"wait-" He moved away from you- apologizing for squishing your hair slightly as he frantically patted himself down, looking for a condom.

At his dejected groan you couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

"It's in my jacket.." He groaned again and rested his forehead against your shoulder. He panted out as you wiggled under his grasp, flat out whimpering when your thigh grazed his painfully hard erection.

"It's okay- we can just go to the store after." You could barely finish speaking before he began kissing you again, pulling back briefly to apologize for not asking.

"please?" He quietly whispered against your flesh, tapping at the backs of your thighs. You quickly got the message and jumped up so he could wrap your legs around his middle, pressing your crotches together for much needed friction.

"fuck me, megumi~" He hissed at your words, moaning quietly into your ear when you reached your hand down to palm him through his uniform pants.

"I-I could go get it hah-" He was cut off by a shaky, quiet moan from your hands sliding under his waistband- squeezing his hard cock through his boxers.

"s' okay megs, want you- I want you.." Your breathing became heavier as he left sloppy kisses against your neck. "Can I take this off..?" He quietly asked, tugging slightly at your top.

You shook your head 'no', yet grabbed his hand and put it under your top- whimpering slightly when he pinched your hardening nipple.

"Don't want anyone but you seeing me-" You watched as he slowly tugged your shirt up a bit, his body hovering over you more to make sure your slightly exposed chest was hidden from any people who might pass by.

"You're so pretty- um, always.." He gulped as he held your shirt up with one hand, bringing his other one to roll and pinch at the hard bud. This drew a long whine out of you.

You shook your head no, denying the fact he had just complemented you, your blush spreading to your ears. You messed with his belt a bit, silently pleading for him to remove them.

He quickly got the hint and hoisted you up further, now supporting you with one strong arm as his other moved to fiddle with his buckle.

“You sure this is oka-“ But before he could finish speaking you kissed him, breaths mixing together, lips surely red and puffy by now.

“please, megumi- I want you, now, preferably!” You repeated his previous words with a laugh and a playful shake of your head. This drew a short half laugh half snort out of him, him shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging to your shorts, eyes wide and pupils blown out as he stared inbetween your legs- waiting for an answer.

“mhm-“ You simply said with a curt nod of your head and he wasted zero time before gently setting you down, tugging at your soft belt to untie it and hastily pulling both your underwear and shorts down in one swift motion.

He grabbed at his own pants, pulling them down just enough so his crotch would be able to be freed-

Megumi looked from his lower half to your own bare one and leaned down slightly so he could easily grasp at the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up so your back was against the wall yet again.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hooked your ankles together behind him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you watched him hiss from the air meeting his cock once he released it from the restricting confines of his boxers

“Um, can I?” He stuttered a bit, cursing under his breath as he gave himself a few, teasingly slow pumps to his length.

“Jesus- stop asking and just fuck me already!”

“Okay, okay-!” He kissed you gently once, watching as he began aligning himself with your entrance. He spread his cock head up and down your wet folds, lubing himself up with your own slick.

“Fuck, please-“ You whined out, your hole clenching around nothing as you tried to lift your hips closer to his.

He adjusted his grasp on you slightly, making sure the position he was in wouldn’t hurt you as he slowly began sliding in. He bit his lip harshly to stop what would’ve been a loud moan as his hips slowly pushed into your own.

“please move- please, megs-“ You gripped at his hair by the nape of his neck, eyes rolling back as he bottomed out. He panted into your shoulder, laying what would surely become purple and red marks later around the base of your neck.

“Just give me one second- just nghh-“ He whined as you bucked your hips into him, beginning to just move on your own as best as you could.

“Hold on, you’re gonna hurt yourself..” He tried his best to reason, but made no move to stop you. In fact, he pulled you closer- lifting one of your knees up higher than the other so he could slowly begin thrusting up into you.

“ahh~ gumi, s’ good-“ Your words were already beginning to become slurred, and he smashed your mouths together to stop moans from escaping the both of you.

This didn’t stop you from trying to speak, though. You swore against his lips, his name falling from your lips that were muffled against his own.

The soft sounds of your hips meeting aggressively every few seconds drove you crazy, anyone passing would know what was going on if they so much as walked by, and this thought only made you clench around him further.

“Good girl, so good for me, a-always..” He moved one of his hands to grasp at your chest from under your shirt and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the awful noises that threatened to slip past.

“Here, let me just…” He stopped his thrusts for just a few seconds and you practically felt like sobbing from the lack of contact. Sure you’ve done it raw before, but only once or twice- and never in public.

He adjusted you so your legs were wider so one of his hands could easily move to rub at your clit while he began to move again. The moan this pulled out of you was almost animalistic, and he couldn’t help from grunting into your ear, his own noises growing louder as you babbled pleas for who knows what.

“mmm~ wanna cum, I wanna cum, gumi-“ You whimpered out, the grip on his hair tightening as you tugged him closer to you for a kiss. Your lips met sloppily and you could feel how your mixed saliva coated your chin.

“Come on pretty- please, please cum for me pretty girl-“ He whispered into your ear, trying his best to keep his voice steady- though it was hard with his own high approaching. His calloused fingers rubbed faster against your clit and he felt how you tightened around him further, your legs shaking as you slowly went more and more limp in his grasp.

“g’nna cum baby~, gonna cum megumi- nghh~ a-ahh” The only that could pass from your swollen red lips was his name, and his own noises picked up as well as he listened to you beg for him.

“In me, please- gotta get ahh~ hah- gotta go to the store n get plan b anyway. Make it worth it, please megs wanna feel you in me~” You babbled nonsense, your ankles only tightening behind his back as you pulled him in closer to you so he couldn’t pull out.

“gonna cum-“ The both of you said in unison, soft moans and pants filling the corner you two were held up in.

“so pretty, so pretty-“ He mumbled praises, your lips locking together as his hip began to stutter- pace uneven as he thrusted into you. You felt him twitch inside of you, and soon after you felt incredibly warm- his seed filling you up quickly. He was beginning to get overstimulated but didn’t stop his weak thrusts until your back arched off the wall with a cry of his name as you came on his cock.

“fuck-“ You moaned out, your eyes opening as you looked to him with dopey smile on your face.

“Could I, uh, ask what got you so worked up…?” You quietly thanked him as he helped you down, holding you steady as he helped you put your clothes back on.

“I, um..” He scratched the back of his neck before clearing his throat, buckling his belt back up and zipping his zipper. He looked towards you with an almost apologetic expression on his face- borderline embarrassed.

“Just….existing, I guess..” He shrugged and looked away, frowning as he saw the can on the ground. Waste of a perfectly good soda.

You followed his gaze and kissed his hot cheek, ignoring the shine of sweat that coated his face.

“Let me buy you a new one.”

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M.LIST♥

#female reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x reader smut #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fanfic #fem reader

[crazyyluvr]

The World Wants to Melt my Face Off I Swear-

pairing: sirius black x gn!reader

summary: If the summer heat was not going to back down, you’re just going to take matter into your own hands. And Sirius is all up for it.

genre: fluff, mild suggestiveness

wc: 698

content: modern au, you and sirius live together, established relationship, reader removes/changes clothes but no gender-aligned body parts are mentioned, HOT SUMMER HEAT, watermelon <3

note: totally didn’t write this because it’s so damn hot and i need a way to cope with the heat, totally not… (i wouldn't do this if I lived with someone, but if I lived alone, I'd 100% walk around in just my underwear — THAT'S HOW HORRIBLE THE HEAT IS HERE)

drabble under the cut :: not edited

Summer was relentless.

It was like the world was getting hotter every year, because you were pretty sure that you didn’t feel like you were going to get burns on your feet just from walking around in your house a few years ago.

Sirius found it amusing to hear you swear to yourself once in a while and complain about the heat radiating off the walls of your shared home. The scrunch of your eyebrows and the way your lip set in a slightly curving pout was adorable to him.

But that wasn’t the only reasons why he enjoyed the times when you get worked up like this.

The long-haired boy liked it because you would change your dressing style at home to accommodate the heat and make sure your body doesn’t feel too warm.

Your usual baggy, long-sleeved style was replaced with tank tops and shorts that left little to his imagination. It was one of the only times you didn’t care about how much skin you were displaying, more focused on keeping yourself from overheating.

You were rummaging around the kitchen one late afternoon, trying to find ice for your beverage. Not even the cold that it got from being in the fridge was enough for you.

Sirius was laying down in your shared bedroom, the air conditioner working overtime to keep the room chilly enough to keep you comfortable. He was already buried under the comforter and an extra blanket and yet he was still shivering a little. How were you this warm-blooded?

"Siri!" You called, voice muffled from the walls, but it reached Sirius's ears nonetheless. He pulled the covers off of him and walked towards the door. He opened it to be greeted by a rush of heat.

"Close it quickly, you'll let the cold out," you said, focused on your task in the kitchen. It was mid afternoon, and the sun was merciless with its bright and hot rays breaking through the windows.

He soft and fond laugh escaped his lips, but he followed your wishes and shut the door gently behind him.

"You hollered for me love?" He said, turning to look at you before stopping in your tracks.

You didn't have a shirt on. (If you have a bra, then you're wearing a sports bra still btw <3)

Your back was exposed to him, showing off the curve of your spine and the contours of your back.

"You want some watermelon?" You asked, still not turning to look at him. "I found some earlier today in the market and left them in the fridge, so now they're cold."

You finally looked over your shoulder when you didn't get a response, only to roll your eyes when you saw Sirius's dumbstruck expression.

"What? It's hot!" You said defensively, putting down your knife and angling your body to properly face him.

He grinned, approaching you and examining your body (as if it wasn't anything he hasn't seen before). "You're hot, babe."

You rolled your eyes again, but a smile slipped past your façade. "Suree..."

Sirius put his hands on your hips, dragging them up your sides and to your shoulders. You shivered slightly from the cold that lingered on his pale fingers.

"We can just have the watermelon later," he murmured, leaning in and placing a kiss on the crook of your neck that was coated in a light sheen of sweat, making you laugh and push him away. "Sirius I'm sweaty!"

"So?" Sirius shrugged, pulling you closer still. "It's not something I haven't dealt with."

You swat his arm, turning around and focusing back on your fruit, but it was hard when Sirius molded his chest into your back, placing kisses on shoulder, neck, and the higher part of your back.

"Sirius, I want to have fruit," You said, voice slightly whiny.

Sirius groaned. "Fineee, but we're definitely gonna do something about this when we're done."

He pressed his hips against you and you gasped when you felt something against you, shoving him away with another laugh. "Sirius Black, you horny man!"

"Only for you, m'love," he said cheekily, winking.

You did end up happily eating your fruit. And helping Sirius with his little (not really little) problem as well.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #marauders #marauders x reader #hp #it’s so hot in the ph help me #hp x reader #padfoot

[xvysarene]

ℂ𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕫𝕖

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.2k Genre: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort Notice: Mentions of infidelity, blood, and wound, Y/N is not MC A/N: @brailsthesmolgurl requested angst, I hope this one is painful enough 💔 May or may not consider writing a part 2. [ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

Clang!

The sound of the thrown stick echoed across the training room. A pair of cerulean orbs locked with yours, amazement reflected in their depths.

“That’s a lot of pent-up…energy,” your partner—professionally and romantically—fixed his attention on the wooden stick grazing his Adam's apple as he spoke.

If it was your hunter scythe, his skin would be sliced open.

You lowered it down, the adrenaline rush fading as the throbbing sensation in your knee took over. A sharp stab of pain that left your whole leg numb.

Ungracefully, you collapsed to the floor. Xavier’s hand was on your side in an instant, seeing how your face had crumpled in agony.

“You have a lot on your mind.” He felt you tensed, yet didn’t stop massaging your knee. His touch continued to work its magic, sending ripples of relief through you.

“I’m losing my touch, this desk duty is weakening me.”

“You just literally disarmed me,” he reminded, “Does this have to do with the team assignment?”

Whenever a new batch arrived, they were divided into groups with senior hunters overseeing their missions initially.

Xavier's involvement was to be expected, much like your own participation before the injury.

“Do you have anything against a particular recruit?” he treaded carefully.

You had nothing against the woman—whom you later discovered was Dr. Zayne's childhood friend and suspected the stoic doctor had a soft spot for—when you saw them together in a café a few times. In fact, she was quite a lovely woman.

What unsettled you was Xavier's uncharacteristic ease in opening up to her, despite his usual reservations with strangers.

“No,” you answered genuinely, “but do you have anything you’d like to tell me?”

Xavier’s fingers paused. “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know, Xav, you seem distracted lately.”

How could you miss the way his eyes sought out the junior hunter every morning when she arrived, even when you both were engaged in a conversation?

Or how could you miss his unmistakable comfortable stance as he interacted with the hunter, when the ring of her laughter filled up the bullpen?

His eyes slid sideways. “I need to focus on supervising the recruits, Captain Jenna's counting on me.”

Drawing closer, Xavier reached out, hand tenderly cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry if I’ve been distant.”

He noticed you biting down on your lips, wearing them out. It was the first time he had seen you visibly unsettled.

“If this is truly affecting you, I can ask someone else to take over my place.”

“No, it’s fine.”

You wouldn't allow yourself to be the reason he stepped back from his responsibilities, even if it meant sacrificing your own peace of mind.

“Just... please, talk to me if there's ever something on your mind,” you urged softly.

Xavier pressed his lips gently against your forehead. Even as the warmth of his kiss enveloped you, it couldn't dispel the pang of unease gnawing at the edges of your thoughts like it normally did.

The gnawing uneasiness, though, was justified.

With each passing day, his subtle mentions and veiled references of her painted your conversations.

It became even more apparent as your keen eyes caught glimpses of the growing sparkle in his gaze, the way his eyes slightly lingered on her, speaking volumes.

It might have gone unnoticed by others, but not you.

Not when you had once recognised the same tender looks directed towards you, before the two of you became a couple.

“Will you, for once, stop bringing her up?”

The room plunged into a tense silence, even the rhythmic tick-tick-tick of Jeremiah's fingers typing came to a sudden halt.

“Uh I’ll step out—”

“Jeremiah, sit down,” your tone was firm, leaving no room for refusal.

Jeremiah, halfway rising from his seat, abruptly sat back down with a plop! onto the chair beneath him.

Perched at the edge of Jeremiah's desk, you faced Xavier across the wooden table, the recent activity on the No-Hunt Zone forgotten as he got startled by your harsh remarks. Mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

“Tell me, Jeremiah, did he or did he not have been casually mentioning her for the past fifteen minutes?”

The poor guy had his eyes ping-ponged between the two of you. Torn between defending his longtime friend or you—the second person he would trust his life with.

“He did,” Jeremiah eventually admitted in a tiny voice, sinking even lower into his seat upon receiving a look of exasperation from Xavier.

In a way, you felt relieved knowing that the creeping vines of jealousy within your heart didn't merely blind you to making things up.

Grateful, that someone else had also come to realise it, validating your feelings.

You watched as Xavier's eyes finally bore into yours, uncertainty swimming in their depths.

Whatever emotion reflected in your eyes caused his breath to falter, finally making him aware of the jagged rift that had gradually formed between you.

“It’s been a couple of months now. You sure there’s nothing you’d like to tell me?”

Despite the cool front, you were aware of the pain piercing your heart.

The weight of embarrassment from having Jeremiah witness the unraveling of something that had once felt solid, so unbreakable.

Xavier took a daring step, as if to bridge the gap. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish, yours and his hunter watches lit up red, signaling an urgent notification. A warning voice thundered not a second later.

「All available senior hunters are to report back to UNICORNS Massive Metaflux fluctuations detected at Stormcrown Summit」

With a quick "Catch you later" tossed back to Jeremiah, you were already on the move the moment the first words reached your ears.

Xavier stepped in front of your 310HM, a dangerous move as you were mere seconds away from twisting the throttle. “Please, your knee can't handle it. You'll only end up hurting yourself.”

“Now is not the time to suddenly show concern for me again,” you retorted sharply.

As you revved up the engine, he stepped back, his face troubled. And you left him behind, knowing fully well he would make it back before you either way.

The bustling HQ buzzed with urgency as hunters within a 25km radius received the emergency alert. Frantic voices and swift footsteps filling up the walls.

Walking straight to Captain Jenna, you were greeted with an all-too-familiar grimace; the same expression she had worn when she caught you in the training room instead of attending physical therapy for your injury.

“Senior hunter Y/N, reporting for duty.” Your gaze met hers head-on.

The captain sighed, slightly shaking her head as if to clear the mounting stress. “We are in dire need of all hands on deck. Some senior hunters are away on missions far from Linkon, and we’ve resorted to sending some of the best recruits.”

Despite having earned her approval, she still gave you a warning look.

“You head back when your knee starts hurting, and”—her stern gaze warned you that there would be consequences if you ever considered defying her command—“you are not to wander alone without a partner.”

Your hand instantly reached out to one of the passing hunters, luckily snatching someone you had worked together with in previous missions occasionally, noting their above-average skills.

The fluttered brows of Captain Jenna didn’t go amiss. A look of confusion passed between her and the hunter, questioning your choice of a different partner than the usual one.

Towering trees at the Stormcrown Summit were shrouded in mist, casting an aura of unpredictability over the landscape. The occasional rustle of leaves heightened your senses further, escalating the tension of the unknown lurking within.

A very much missed surge of adrenaline fueled your body as you ventured deeper into the dense forest.

“I’m surprised that you did not choose Xavier as your partner,” your companion—Adrian—initiated a conversation after the two of you eliminated some roaming Mist Knaves.

“He is busy supervising the newer guys.”

"Seems to be warming up faster than he normally would, isn’t he?"

Damn it, you forgot how one of his best skills included perceptiveness. 

A short distance away, Xavier’s group made their way towards the clearing. The worried glances cast in your direction didn’t go unnoticed before the gigantic trees obscure your view.

“It’s very unexpected of him,” Adrian commented, watching the exchange between you both.

“People change,” you bit out, fully aware that you had fallen into the trap, indirectly confirming that something had indeed happened between you and Xavier.

The conversation was cut off when several Velox Venators leaped out from behind the thick foliage.

Their agility presented a challenge after spending time confined to the desk.

“As much as I love having you back on the team”—your partner’s voice rang out as he leaped back, avoiding the swing of your obsidian scythe cutting through the last beast’s tough silver hide—“it would be a shame to see you permanently sitting behind a desk after this.”

The sudden pouring thunderstorm had made the ground mushy, amplifying the pressure on your knee. Concealing the grimace of discomfort became futile at this point.

You followed his instruction to rest once the danger was cleared up, welcoming the temporary bliss of taking the pressure off your knee.

Just as you were about to truly relax, the urgent shouting of one of the hunters crackled through both of your hunter's watches, jolting you back to attention.

「Requesting backup at coordinates 45.6789° N, 87.6543° W 2 injured hunters, surrounded by Elite Wanderers, recruits extraction needed」

Profanities escaped Adrian’s mouth as he followed your leading figure closely behind, navigating through the woods with the programmed coordinates in the watch.

As you reached the clearing, you took in the scene before you. Several senior hunters had come to aid, engaged in a battle against a handful of Thunderoars.

That explained the abnormal thunderstorm.

However, a movement in your peripheral vision caught your attention, drawing your focus to a lone female hunter facing a feline predator. Its build was unusually large compared to the ones you typically encountered.

The beast had curled its tail, its sharp edge gleaming with an ominous sheen, poised to strike.

“Shit!” You sprinted forward as you watched her moment of hesitation. A hesitation that could kill her.

White, blinding pain shot up your leg as you lunged forward, pushing the recruit from the line of attack.

The searing pain in your abdomen came next, stealing the air from your lungs.

There wasn't enough time to dodge the razor-sharp tail as you staggered both from the momentum and the uneven, soft terrain.

The ground rumbled as thorny vines quickly encircled each of the Spurtail’s legs, ensnaring it in a tight grip. 

Even amidst the haze of agonizing pain, your Evol reacted, defending its owner.

You pushed through the pain, striking the Wanderer’s broken protocore shield as it trashed against the barbed tendrils that had nearly swallowed its form.

A wave of exhaustion washed over you as the Spurtail deteriorated. The earth tilted and your knees buckled, scythe slipping from your grasp, clattering to the ground.

When the tell-tale sign of darkness crept into your vision, a glimmer of light danced off a familiar light-ash blonde.

His long legs raced towards you. Running, running, and running…

Past you.

“Y/N, Y/N! Are you still with me?”

Captain Jenna’s face appeared in your line of vision, lips set into a grim line.

When was your back lowered to the ground?

The sky above had cleared up, you realised. A stark difference from the gloom descending upon your heart like a heavy rain.

“Come on, Y/N, you gotta stay with us. You're stronger than you thought.”

The agony intensified as you registered a pair of hands pressing down on your abdomen. A guttural groan ripping out of your throat.

Pearl-red blood, your blood, stained her hands as she tapped your cheeks, desperate to have your focus on her.

“Hey, you can’t leave us, do you hear me?!”

The darkness was almost overwhelming at this point, the words that Captain Jenna shouted becoming incoherent in your ears.

For the first time, you witnessed a look of terror overtaking her eyes as they briefly flickered down to your abdomen once again.

It was unsettling. The mature woman was not one to show such raw emotion frequently.

As your head drooped to the side, you caught a glimpse of his outline crouching beside the female hunter you had pushed away.

Close in proximity, yet intolerably distant.

There was a longing for those blue orbs to be the last thing you looked at before the darkness consumed everything. 

Even with the soothing hum of the medical equipment in the backdrop, a sense of alarm began to creep in as you felt the shift in the air.

“Didn’t the nurse say no visits?”

It only took one air evacuation, just like in those action movies and medical dramas, for people to flock to your bedside once you were out of the ICU.

On the third day, you asked the nurses to refuse any visitors, craving solitude.

“I… may have walked past them.”

By “walked”, it meant that he had teleported to the room. There wasn't a sound of the door opening and closing.

Adrian’s self-blame was predictable, given that he was supposed to stick with you during the mission.

Captain Jenna’s shift from relief to light scolding didn't come as a surprise either.

Even the junior hunter’s profuse apologies were manageable.

Seeing Xavier’s guilt-stricken face several steps away from your bed, however, unleashed a whirlwind of emotion you weren’t sure you were ready to cope with.

“I should have been the one in that bed, not you.”

Your laugh was devoid of humour. “Why? So you can be her hero instead?”

“No!” Distress was evident in his voice and posture as he rushed towards you. “You shouldn't have to endure this. You shouldn't even have joined the mission.”

“We get hurt, it’s part of the job.”

“You almost died!” voice cracking, he collapsed into the seat beside your bed, head buried in hands.

Years of knowing Xavier and that was the first time you had seen him crumble. Gone was his usual calm exterior, replaced by a broken man, drowning in regret.

Even then, your battered heart couldn’t stop the trembling remark, heavy with disappointment and anguish, from escaping your lips, “Yet you ran past me.”

Doe eyes, bright with unshed tears, snapped to yours.

People had said that traumatic events may lead to memory loss, but that day was etched vividly in your mind, each detail imprinted like a nightmare festering in your brain.

“Y/N—”

“Anything you say will not change the fact that things will never be the same between us.”

His face fell, mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

Finally, he settled on a meek plea, “Please forgive me.”

You breathed out, slowly adjusting your position on the bed. Face laced in discomfort as you felt the stitches being tugged.

You were lucky, so to speak, as the Spurtail’s strike narrowly avoided any internal organs. But, the gash was pretty deep, resulting in a significant amount of blood loss.

“Did you know that you used to look at me the same way?” the words tumbled out, a rhetorical question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue for far too long.

He couldn't refute anything.

A sad smile painted your lips. “That should’ve been my only warning, yet I still hopelessly had faith in you.”

If it was possible, the guilt etched on his face deepened. He couldn’t miss the shift to past tense in your words, a bold declaration of the trust he had shattered.

“Whether you realised it or not, you’ve made your choice, Xavier. It’s time to put an end to this—to us.”

The blooms that Jeremiah had placed on the windowsill the day before suddenly lost their luster, mirroring the drastic change in emotion happening within you.

Xavier’s eyes flickered to the pot, helplessly watching the wilted petals droop, surrendering to the vines creeping up from the soil and entangling them with their thorny embrace.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” his words hang heavily in the air.

You didn’t tell him that he was wrong. No, the deep wound he had inflicted could never be healed by words alone.

Eyes fluttering closed, you were determined to keep the tears at bay. “Please close the door on your way out.”

After a few weeks that felt excessively long, you eventually received the green light to return to work.

The desk will be your friend longer, unfortunately, until you fully complete the knee therapy and succeed the reevaluation exam, as per Captain Jenna’s order.

Adrian, still feeling at fault, was determined to fill you in with what had happened while you were gone. Including the gossip.

You were the least surprised to hear about the relationship between Dr. Zayne and the recruit.

If the doctor’s visits during your hospital stay—expressing multiple gratitudes for saving his childhood friend and making sure you had the best care—weren’t any indicator, then you might as well be dense.

“He’s been very closed off,” Adrian remarked as your eyes strayed towards Xavier.

The lone hunter was back to distancing himself from everyone, taking solo missions and not talking unless prompted to.

He was just doing what he did best: tracking down Wanderers and not socializing.

But, you noticed the freshly brewed coffee every morning on your desk, made just the way you liked it.

You noticed the hot packs appearing whenever your face pulled in discomfort from the stiffness of your knee.

Noticed that he never left before you, even when he had the rest of the day off after returning early from a mission.

Noticed, the stolen glances he sent your way.

Was it because he felt consumed by guilt? Or was it because he had to swallow his own bitter pill, watching someone he cared about chose another person?

“They still have your favourite egg tarts.”

Startled, you looked up from the monitor to see Xavier setting two food bags on your desk.

It was the first time he had spoken directly since your return.

When you saw him leave earlier, you thought that he had finally given up and gone home, as you persisted in gathering information about the threatening Elite Wanderer well past working hours.

Even Captain Jenna left first, leaving you alone in the bullpen as the night shift went to grab dinner.

“Thank you,” you murmured gratefully. You opened the bags to reveal a sandwich in one and the egg tarts you used to enjoy together in the other.

Without hesitation, you handed him one of the pastries before he could step away. His eyes widened slightly before accepting it with a faint smile, a sight you hadn't seen in so long.

In the dimly lit room, Xavier’s eyes gleamed like the depths of the night sky, each gaze resembling a twinkling star in a vast galaxy.

It would have been easy to give in to those eyes, to his profound concerns.

But the scar left a permanent mark.

And you were still not able to distinguish whether its sight reopened an old wound or if it proved that you had truly healed.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x y/n #love and deepspace x you #xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x y/n #xavier x you #angst #hurt/no comfort

[idyllcy]

unexpected guests - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #9)

"GOTCHA." Dick yells, jamming his foot to stop the door from closing, his strength too much for you as you take a step back and let him tumble into the apartment. "Ow."

You look up, noticing the entirety of Tim's family behind him.

"So... was someone going to tell me I needed to cook for, like, twelve people, or was I supposed to just be, like, I don't know, psychic?" You count the number of people with Dick. Eight. "All of you at once? Gotham's about to go down."

"Drake's out on patrol right now." Damian reminds.

"Right. So you pull up to my house while my husband is putting in all the work?"

"And Oracle." Bruce mumbles.

"God forbid women have some time off." You sigh, letting everyone in any way. "Alright. What are you all here for? All at once?"

"Marriage. When did you get married." Damian makes no waste of time, pointing at the ring on your finger. "Drake has the same one."

"Tim does have one that's the exact same." Jason hums.

"So? Tell us the tale. How did he propose? Was it romantic?" Steph settles herself on your couch, and you grimace.

"I think Tim should be the one to tell the tale." You wince. "Just for comedics."

"Can we have dinner, then?" Cass rummages through your fridge.

Alfred clears his throat, offering you a plate of sweets as you waver.

"..." You close your eyes. "Fine."

You hear the rest of them cheer in the back.

"I'm not cooking, though. Someone order takeout."

"Yes, pretty bird!"

You hold back the laugh in your chest at their voices in sync. You wonder if Tim just calls you pretty bird around them regardless of whether or not you're there. While Dick orders, everyone crowded around him to place orders, you rummage through your fridge to throw something at Jason. You let Alfred wander around to check the apartment out, and Bruce watches you from the couch as you pull out a pack of Yakult.

"Jason." You throw it at him, closing the fridge.

"I want Yakult?!"

"That's not fair!"

"Crashing my apartment while it's just me home is not fair." You grumble, calling Tim's intercom on your phone.

"Pretty bird?"

"Your fam's here to listen to your proposal tale." You hum. "Tell Oracle to head here too."

"Yes." Tim pauses. "All of them?"

"Alfred included."

"Holy shit." He mumbles. "I was wondering why it was just me and Oracle on the line."

You look up from your nails, glancing at Dick as he waves his phone at you.

"You want anything from Batburger?"

"My usual. You wanna split? I know it's late for you to eat."

"I ate earlier, so I'll be good. It's why I didn't want to cook." You walk over, taking his phone as you punch in Tim's order. "What time will you be back?"

"Whenever Duke gets off."

"Tell Duke to hurry up." You pause. "Did you guys order for Duke?"

Steph gives you a thumbs-up.

You give her one back.

"I'm on my way back. Should I enter through the window?"

"If you're alright with it." You hum. "See you in a bit."

"See you... now." Tim flies through your window, rolling on the ground to break his fall as he grins at you.

You hang up, rushing over to him.

"Dumbass." You huff, checking him as he laughs.

"Missed you." He reaches up for your cheek, pulling you in.

"I love you, but I am not listening to your family gag at us right now." You lean back. "Go and get changed. I placed your order already."

"Come with me?" He pouts.

"I need bleach for my eyes."

"Drake, that is disturbing."

"Stay jealous." He sticks his tongue out, grabbing you as he stands up.

You yelp in response, helpless as he carries you off over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"How do we get the takeout?!"

"Answer the intercom on the door! Ask for the code before you do!"

Tim sets you down in before stripping himself, leaning his cheek towards you as he taps his chin.

"Kiss."

You give him one, humming as you wipe the lip balm from his cheek. "How was patrol?"

"Babs is still stuck on cameras."

"Do you want to bring her something?"

"It's fine. I'll order takeout to her place."

"... her hideout?"

"Next one on patrol can handle it." He mumbles, grumbling into your shoulder. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." You hum, patting his back. "Ready to tell them?"

"That you were the one who suggested we elope? Pretty bird, they're going to kill me."

"Oh, nothing too weird about that. Also, stop wearing your wedding ring out." You hum. "People are going to start to notice."

"Or you can just—" He stops himself first. "I lied. I'd rather you wear it than me. I'll take note of it. Can I have something else from you instead?"

"I can't give you a tassel, birdie." You hum. "You fight with a staff, not a sword."

He pouts. "Then a lucky charm."

"I already give you a kiss before patrol."

He huffs. "We'll continue this conversation later." He answers a call, raising a brow.

"Your apartment let a non-verified delivery personelle in. Security identified him as a common thief in the area."

Tim groans. "I'll handle it. Call the police to bring him into custody, but do not do anything else."

"You will handle it?"

"Yes." You take the phone from him, waving at him to exit the room, following behind him as you stare at the group on the couch. "Give us twenty minutes. If he is not detained by then, then feel free to call in police backup."

"...very well, young lady."

You hand up, and you whistle to get everyone's attention.

"Well, that's one hell of a way to get our attention."

"First one to catch the criminal in the building gets to take home my last pack of dumplings." You point at the door.

"OUT OF THE WAY."

"NO, DAMMIT."

"THAT'S UNFAIR?!!"

"No window exits. Now, go rogue."

Tim watches as the majority of his family squeezes out of the door, a select few left behind, and you shut the door, texting in the chat to let everyone know to text you photo evidence.

"That's witchcraft." Tim mumbles.

"Hey, what works, works." You grumble. "It's their fault anyway."

"Are they vegetarian?" Damian raises a brow at you.

"No, but I do have a pack of the veggie ones." You hum. "Not going?"

"I am far too mature for such childish actions."

You tap your chin, blinking at Cass as she looks down from the window.

"Cass?"

"He is running down the emergency stairs." She pulls the trigger on her grapple, stabbing through his backpack as she pulls the trigger a second time, pulling the backpack into her hand. "Does this count?"

You blink, squinting. "N..o? Oh, but I'd like to rummage through. Who's in suit?"

"I don't— Dick." She looks down. "And Steph. Is that Bruce?"

"That's crazy."

"I wanna watch." Tim peeks from over your shoulder ever so slightly, "Holy shit."

"Your apartment is very clean, Master Tim."

"Thank you, Alfred. My wife does a great job keeping the place clean."

"Especially the workroom." He turns to smile at you.

"Yeah, I'd rather die than let my figures get dirty." You deadpan. "Though—"

You answer the video call on your phone.

"Y.. what the fuck?" You squint at Dick handing over the thief to the police, thumbs up given to you as he collects the takeout too.

"Sure are lucky we were in the area." He lies right through his teeth as the police take the guy in.

"Where's the backpack he usually has?"

"Dick." You mumble. "Catch."

Cass throws the bag out the window, landing with a thud as you watch from Dick's mask.

"There it is." He hums.

"Tim, is there a reason why Dick is here? Doesn't he like. live in. Bludhaven???"

"Mm... he's in the area for the time being." Tim hums. "It's also an hour drive— even less if you grapple."

You don't want to know how he knows that.

"Keep me on the line. I'll be listening in to Tim tell the tale."

"The alliteration is insane."

"Okay, can we STOP being self-aware."

"I'm in on the call too." Oracle hums. "I need to hear this."

"We didn't have any fancy proposal." Tim grumbles. "We eloped."

"WHAT."

"That's kind of... in character." Cass mumbles. "That's so in character of you two."

"Right?! The rings are only formalities. Our engagement rings are actually." You point at the single earring on your ear, and Steph yells from the door.

"THOSE WERE THE RINGS??"

Tim sighs, gem dangling off of his earlobe suddenly so much more apparent.

"Oh, I thought you were just matching." Bruce mumbles. "Oddly romantic of the two of you."

"I need a bucket." Damian fakes a gag, majority of the family back from the safe house.

"You can't be saying that when you're borrowing my shoujo manga." You deadpan.

"Yeah, but what shoujo does earrings instead of a wedding ring? They do promise rings!" Damian starts.

"Are you saying Tim and I aren't shoujo coded?" You raise a brow.

"No. You guys read like a 13 year old's self insert fanfiction."

"I'm actually so hurt at that statement I think I could pass away just about right now." You cough, pretending to spit out blood.

Tim loses it behind you, hunched over as his lungs hurt from laughing, tears in the corner of his eyes as he falls to the ground and you go quiet. You got gagged. This is your loss. You just got absolutely annihilated. You have no rights and this is his world and you're just living in it.

"No, I'd argue this is more like an eighteen year old's dream life."

"Okay, that one." You point. "Jason, no."

He sticks his tongue out at you instead, and you watch as Bruce brings the takeout.

"Dinner is served."

"I could die just about right now." You sigh. "Yes. The earrings were the engagement rings, and the bands are the wedding rings. Any other questions?"

"Did you guys at least take engagement photos?" Babs speaks up from your phone.

"The ones I posted?"

"Anything else?"

"...no?"

"I could've sworn I saw a post that looked like the two of you."

"Nope." You lie. "I think I know what you're referring to, though."

Your twitter post later tells the family otherwise.

#tim drake x reader #☾.events #☾.blurbs #☾.pretty bird

[dixons-sunshine]

Cuddler | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive themes/slight smut towards the end.

Word count: 617.

A/n: Wanted to post this earlier but the power went out and my phone died, so I went to bed. Anyways, power is back, I'm wide awake at 3am, so I'm finally posting lmao. I hope you like this!

Joshua “Scud” Frohmeyer was known to be clingy when it came to you. Everyone knew it. Blade knew it, Whistler knew it, hell, even you knew it. And you loved your boyfriend for it.

Scud was a hardcore cuddler. It doesn't matter when or where or what you were busy doing, if he wanted cuddles, he was gonna get his cuddles. You've learnt to just go along with it, knowing that he wouldn't stop whining and complaining until he got his way. More often than not, however, you were more than happy to give into his wishes. You loved cuddling your man more than anything, so it was rather easy to convince you to drop what you were doing and wrap your arms around your boyfriend.

Scud loved being held by you. It was his favourite thing in the whole world, except for when you went down on him, but that's something completely different. After long days of doing stuff for Blade and being worked to the bone, the only thing he wants to do is flop down on the bed or couch, on top of you, resting his head against your chest and listening to the steady beating of your heart. And if you ran your fingers through his hair and just talked about your day or read him something from the book you were busy with? He'd be relaxed and asleep within minutes.

Scud preferred being held by you, but that doesn't mean that he didn't hold you. Whenever the two of you were busy in the workshop and the need for cuddles flooded his being, he'd be clinging to you like a monkey to a tree. He'd embrace you from behind and rest his head against your shoulder or back, making it extremely harder for you to work, but you wouldn't ever tell him that. He'd occasionally press a kiss to your exposed skin, whispering to you to just drop what you were doing and go lay down with him.

He also loves spooning you from behind. Pressing his body against yours from behind while cuddling in bed? If he were to die during those moments, he'd die a happy man. Plus, if he was feeling particularly needy during those moments, it was the perfect way to let you know he needed you without having to tell you. Just slowly rutting against you from behind was enough to tell you what he needed from you, and you almost always gave him that.

During sex, Scud has to be holding you. Whether he's the dominant or submissive one, it doesn't matter. His arms always had to be holding you close to him, especially when you rode him.

When you were busy rocking yourself on his dick, he'd have his arms wrapped tightly around you. He'd be in a seated position, his head resting against your shoulder, loud whines and breathless pants escaping him. Your hands would be in his hair, slightly tugging it to gain that downright sinful moans from him. And when he'd finish, you'd be holding him close to you, your arms around him grounding him back to reality.

After sex, Scud was usually the one being held. The both of you would be as naked as the day you were born, and your boyfriend would be sprawled practically on top of you, his arms once again being wrapped tightly around you. You'd softly be playing with his hair, successfully coaxing relaxed sighs from him. That's how he would fall asleep, and it would be some of the best damn sleep he'd ever get.

Joshua “Scud” Frohmeyer is a cuddler, and it was definitely one of his best traits.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #scud x reader #scud fanfiction #scud frohmeyer #scud #scud blade 2 #scud frohmeyer x reader #scud frohmeyer smut #joshua frohmeyer x reader #josh frohmeyer x reader #joshua fromeyer #josh frohmeyer

[1-helluva-hazbin]

Always Something Underneath

Chapter 2 - A Taste of Peppermint

Lucifer x Fem!reader (prostitute character w/ accent)

Content warning: slow burn, talk of smoking, writing an accent, no proofread

Chapter Summary: You and Lucifer end up having a drink together when he shows up to the hotel and Charlie is out.

Chapter 1 𖤐 Chapter 2 (You are Here) 𖤐 Chapter 3 (WIP)

The hotel bar was quiet tonight. As you entered the usually bustling hotel after having finished the couple of scheduled clients at the brothel, only to be met with a calm serenity, it was unsettling. It made you question if you were in the wrong place. You made your way over to the bar taking a seat. It was just you perched on a barstool at one end of the bar, Husk behind it closer to you, and another already severely intoxicated resident, who had their head down on the bar, at the other end.

“Hey Husk, where the heck is everybawdy ta’night?” you ask motioning with a sweep of an arm towards the empty expanse of the lobby. “It’s kinda weird.”

Husk looked towards you, from what appeared to be him taking inventory behind the bar, and shrugged. “Don’t know. I heard Charlie say something about bonding. Everyone needs to stop asking me that fucking question though. I’m not here to monitor who comes and goes.”

You hum in response, amused at Husk’s dislike for being the one everyone goes too yet disappointed at hearing everyone was out. One of the downsides of working while residing here was that you did occasionally miss out on the evening activities that Charlie organized. Not that you were personally willing to quit to attend them. It still left you feeling a little dejected. A trade off to ensuring your own financial stability. “You want something to drink?” Husk asked, noting you hadn’t headed off.

“A dirty shirley would be swell. When ya gawtta second that is.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of ‘you got it’ though he said it so low you weren’t totally sure. You sigh, as you twist in your seat so you’re facing the lobby. The idleness inciting the itch of a nicotine craving. You were trying to cut back and you had one on the walk home. Plus you didn’t want to go outside. Charlie had made it clear there should be no smoking in the hotel after you had already pushed your luck in your room.

Your hands wrung the edge of your skirt for a moment, before you put one hand up on the bar with your fingers to immediately begging to drum. Husk’s ear twitched and he glanced over as he whipped up your drink. “Quit it with the fingers. That’s annoying as shit.” he growled out, “Why the fuck you doing that anyway? You’re not usually one of the annoying ones.”

You ‘tsked’ the reprimand, your hand retreating to your lap once more. “Sorry Husk. I’m tryin’ ta quit smokin’ an’ I’m feel’in kinda antsy.”

“No shit.” he drawled, eyes locked onto you. “You actually believe this whole redemption bullshit don’t you?”

You shrug and lean back against the bar. “Believe it? Naw. I dun think it can hurt to try though. Bein’ slightly less shitty ain’t the worst thing ta be down here an if it werks I’d get’ta golden ticket. Not’ta bad trade off if ya ask me. If it werks that is.”

He scoffed, shaking his head just audibly muttering, “Nothing worse than being gullible down here…” He walked over sliding the drink next to your elbow. “I’ve heard in passing that eating sunflower seeds or pumpkin seeds can help. Not the cravings but, it keeps your hands busy or something.”

“Oooh yeah that could werk. That’s a good idea!” you spun around in your seat, acquiescing to his comment about gullibility. You hadn’t ever considered yourself gullible for trying this redemption thing out but, you could admit some might see it that way.

He grinned and went to make a further comment before the front doors burst open. The both of you turned to see Lucifer sauntering in loudly humming to himself, radiating excitement. “Ah! Husk! Where is Charlie!” he immediately called out from across the room ambling towards the bar.

He sighed as you pursed your lips holding back a giggle. “Out.” he growled, ears flat.

“They had’a group thing planned ta’night.” you add, hoping to ease some of Husk’s irritation while satisfying Lucifer. You leaned over towards the seat next to you and patted the cushion. “Join me for’a drink Luci babe! I’m sure we gotta ‘nuff time for one!”

“Oh! How, thoughtful!” he said, the genuine happiness sliding into a facade to mask his nervousness.

“I got’ta question for ya I’ve been meanin’ ta ask!”

He gritted his teeth and closed the distance between himself in the bar. “Do you now?”

“What do you want?” Husk asked, diverting the topic away from your question.

Lucifer blinked and let out a breathy laugh, “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Here!” you push your drink towards Lucifer, “A dirty shirley don’t taste much like alcohol, especially the way Husk here makes ‘em but, just’ta be sure try mine. I haven’t drank out’ta it yet.”

“Oh well I wouldn’t want it going to waste if I don’t like it!” he exclaimed, pushing it back towards you.

“I’ll just drink it. No worries.” you shrug nonchalantly. His face twisted in disgust as you both stared at one another for a moment. “What?”

“You’d drink out of a glass someone else drank from?” he gasped out incredulously. 

You laugh out lightly, thinking him joking, his expression unwavering. “Oh, shit you’re serious. Lucifa, sweety, did you forget ‘bout my profession? The things I haf’ta do with this mouth?” Husk barked out a laugh, “You’d probably be one’a the cleanest beings I’ve ever swapped bloodily fluids with. Do I need ta paint a more vivid pic’ta for ya?”

Lucifer’s disgust settled deeper into his features as your spiel continued. By the end, he was beyond disturbed with any remanence of the arriving excitement vanquished. “No. Please don’t.”

“Perfect!” you push the drink towards him once more, “So you’ll try it an if ya don’ like it I’ll drink it. Husk can make ya somin’ else, like a mudslide.”

“I’m a bartender not a fucking mixologist. I’m not making a mudslide. We don’t have heavy cream anyways.” Husk huffed out.

You ‘tsk’ the cat again and counter, “A mudslide is hawdly a complex cawlktail, Husk.”

“I’m not fucking making it.” he bit back resolutely.

As the squabbling occurred, Lucifer tentatively took the dirty shirley, gingerly sipping it. He blinked at the flavors playing on his tongue, mostly sweet with only a slight hint of alcoholic bite. He took a slightly bigger sip and hummed an approval. “This isn’t half bad!”

You side eyed Husk, shelving the mudslide conversation momentarily, before turning back to Lucifer with a smile. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Drinkin’ can be enjoyable, ‘specially when it don’ tas’ like shit. Jus’ gotta find out what’cha like.”

“How does a mudslide compare to this?” Lucifer asked, his interest genuinely peaked.

“Don’t you fucking start.” Husk growled

Lucifer raised a brow at Husk as a shit eating grin spread across your face, “It depends on what’cha like or ya mood. A dirty shirley is more of a..light an bubbly refreshin’ drink. A mudslide tho’ is a heavia drink since it’s made with cream. Kinda like a thin’a chawcalate milk but with more of a cawffe flava. If ya get it made with a little chawcalate ‘round the rim or in tha cup tho,” you paused and let out a soft hum, “that’s the best.”

Husk was shooting daggers as you talked. Giving him your most saccharine smile you asked in cloying tone, “Can I get anotha shirley?” 

Husk rolled his eyes, grabbing another glass. “Stop. Bringing. Up. Mudslides.”

“I can’t promise that. I can promise I won’t bring it up or mention it ‘round Angel though. If I was a gambal’a I’d bet my next paycheck he’d lov’a good mudslide. ‘Specially, knowing how fawned of makin’ em you are.” Your eyebrows raised as you cocked your head, silently challenging him to strike up a better counteroffer; his continued bartending services in exchange for your silence.

Husk groaned, fatigued at the idea of Angel hounding him to make the drink if only to infuriate him. While they certainly were on good terms, Angel would never let a golden goose like this go; to torment someone in such a mundane yet grating way. Always the sort to love getting a reaction out of people. Husk relented, “You’re killing me.”

You let out a single victorious giggle glancing at Lucifer offhandedly, instantly shocked. He had nearly downed his first shirley as you two dickered. “You might nawt be the only one I kill. Holy hell Lucifa. Slow down. We gawt the whole damn night.”

Husk looked at the glass in the king’s hand and shook his head. He placed your replacement dirty shirley on the bar. Lucifer shrugged, nonchalantly dismissing your concern. “I can handle a single drink.”

The bartender and you glance at one another, both nodding in silent solidarity given Lucifer had admitted to not being a drinker. Husk returned to his inventory, not asking Lucifer if he wanted another, and you proceeded to distract the king from requesting a second. “How ‘bout my question now that I gotta drink?”

He nervously chuckled and placed his hand and cup down on the bar. “What’s the question?”

“I waz curious how your powas werked. Like, what all can ya do? You helped build the hotel obviously. You gawt that nifty portal trick. Somebawdy said somethin ‘bout you turnin’ inta animals?” you asked, scooting to the edge of your seat towards Lucifer.

“Oh!” he laughed out, most of the nerves dissipating. “That’s it? I was worried you were going to ask me something…more uh…” He saw you smirk, raising a brow before he quickly decided to omit the concerned topic continuing on, “...never mind. My powers! Curious about my powers. Well it is very mutli-facitied. Powers of creation and all. I can create just about anything I can imagine of course. I can turn into any animal ever created so that was true. Shape shifting in general is a cinch.”

Instantly, you were sitting next to an anteater, followed by a chameleon, a house cat, and lastly his signature animal a snake. The last shift was back into his normal self. “Then of course I have the ability of duplication. It’s sort of a branch of the creation.” he said suddenly in the seat behind you as well as in front. At that point, the two of them took turns naming off of the things they could do.

 “The portals like you said; to places real and imagined.”

“Hellfire, which isn’t something I use often.”

“Angelic blasts on the flip side of that.”

“There are also the powers of healing.” he said, the Lucifer behind you poofing out of existence. “I can’t revive those who are dead, though that doesn’t matter much down here since people just regenerate as part of the whole hell existence. If they’re still breathing though I could just patch ‘em right up!”

“Can you help an addict who’s trying to quit? Take their cravings away?” Husk piped up out of the blue, looking at Lucifer over his clipboard.

Lucifer blinked, pondering it but a moment. “If it’s a physical reaction I could help. It wouldn’t stop them from picking it back up out of habit though. Is Angel Dust trying to quit finally?”

“Fucking doubt it. Charlie and Vaggie have found basically all his spots but it only seems to slow him down. He still gets it at work. This one here though…” Husk said, motioning the clipboard towards you. 

Lucifer turned to look at you with a tilted head with a surprised look on his face. You laughed softly, the feeling of being caught in the limelight for something kinda good a little unsettling. “Aw shucks Husk, ya didn’t need ta bring it up. I just stawted so I’m only down a couple cigarellos. It’s nothin’ ta raise cain about.”

“Are you serious about it?” Lucifer asked. “Stopping?”

“Part of the program ain’t it?” you smile finally sipping from your drink. “Gotta find betta copin’ mechanisms an awll that when I’m stressed out. Plus it ain’t great for ya. Husk mentioned eatin’ pumpkin seeds or sunflower seeds to help which I’m gonna’ try.”

“Well that’s…commendable.” he said, nodding slowly, his eyes locked onto you. “I can do it but, only if you’re serious about it. I don’t want to do this and then turn around to find out you’ve picked up the habit again. It’d be…”

“Disappointing?” you asked before he had the chance. His brows knitted, his expression suddenly saturnine as he gave a curt nod. Your smile shrinks and you sigh, “I gawt it. Not everybawdy can be Chawlie; willin’ ta help in every an’ any way with unlimited hope for awll these hell bound souls.”

He didn’t want to verbally agree but the silence was more than enough to confirm it. “If ya want ta and are willin’, I’d owe ya one. I am serious though, ‘bout quittin’. I wouldn’t be mad if ya don’t of course. I wasn’ tryin’ to fanangle when I asked ‘bout ya powas. You’re just fascinatin’ and I’ma neb.” The typical smile you adorned grew back as you continued speaking.

Lucifer watched you for a moment before he sighed and held out his hands to you, palms up. “Charlie wouldn’t want to try anything we can…put your hands on mine.”

You released your drink and wiped the condensation from the cup on your skirt. Gently you placed your palms against his. His hands were surprisingly about the same size as yours despite the hight difference and they warmer than anyone else you had ever touched. Not to mention wonderfully soft. You suppressed a small hum and looked to him just as he closed his eyes. As the seconds passed, the nicotine craving started to subside. It was subtle at first but as it lessened into nothing it became very apparent. Almost alarmingly so.

“Better?” He asked, opening his eyes.

“It’s…” you hesitate, “kinda weird. I mean it’s gawn! Definitely betta in that sense. I don’t feel the cravin’ no more but… I guess… I gawt so use ta it bein’ there it’s weird nawt feelin’ it. ‘Specially awll of a sudden.”

“You’ll get used to it hopefully.” Lucifer said, not understanding the feeling but, trying to at least respect it.

You wrapped your hands around his and lightly squeezed, “Thank you. I own ya one.” You released his hands, not wanting to hold on too long despite the urge to.

“Don’t pick up the habit again and we’re even.” he replied, picking up what remained of his watered down drink to hold out the cup to you. You barked out a laugh and picked up your own cup, clinking the two together.

“Still owe ya, but if that makes ya feel betta that’s fine.” you sip from your drink and Lucifer finished off his just as Charlie and everyone who had gone out burst through the doors. 

“CHARLIE!” Lucifer exclaimed, rocketing off the seat. You laughed out at his antics, shaking your head at the king of hell. You watched for a moment Lucifer greet his daughter and part of the following scene of Alastor manifesting to antagonize the king.

You had no intention of wavering on your decision to quit smoking before but, the idea of letting him down after him helping you gripped our heart with a tight squeeze; the look on his face as he had hesitated to help you initially in fear of being let down. You couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you like that. Like there was genuinely some hope. It certainly had to have been before you died. Down here, people didn’t expect anything from you to get disappointed by. 

You turned in your seat to find, next to your drink, two bags; one of pumpkin seeds and one of sunflowers. “What the…?” you jerked your head up to look at Husk who immediately pointed over towards Lucifer and Charlie as they walked off to talk about whatever had brought Lucifer bounding into the hotel in the first place with Alastor lurking behind.

“Sneaky devil…” you muttered, turning back to the gift. You emitted a giggle, grabbing one of the bags to look it over. That was…thoughtful. It made your heart swell and where your hands had touched his tingle. “Well…I really can’t let him down now.”

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #fanart #lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #lucifer hazbin #m #my writing #writing #Always Something Underneath #Always Something Underneath Chapter 2 #A Taste of Peppermint

[mari-writes]

Bokuto, who had recently joined MSBY and secured some well-paying sponsorships, insists on taking Akaashi on a fancy vacation.

Even before they’d started dating, Bokuto had longed to treat his best friend to something special. Akaashi deserved the best, he insisted, with how much he helped Bokuto and the rest of Fukurodani.

Now, many years later, he can finally spoil Akaashi as much as he wants!

He pays for a taxi straight from Akaashi’s apartment to the airport. When they arrive, he surprises Akaashi with a booking in the private lounge, which offers complimentary drinks, pastries, and a view of planes taxiing to and fro on the tarmac.

“Wait, Koutarou,” Akaashi’s eyes are suspicious as they settle into a small plush booth, “isn’t this place reserved for upper class passengers?”

Bokuto just grins, winking over his glass of whisky. He knows the other man wouldn’t have agreed to book First Class if he’d known in advance.

Well, too bad! He chuckles to himself.

Akaashi sighs, exasperated. “I can’t believe you,” he mutters as he takes a sip of his gin and tonic. He looks out to the runway, to where a large jet is making its approach. Bokuto watches him, taking in the man’s beautiful profile, illuminated by the setting sun.

This will be good for him. Bokuto knows it. Akaashi will push back at first—the man has always been overly careful with both his time and money. But hopefully, eventually, he’ll unwind.

[a few hours later]

“Koutarou, this is way too much.”

Bokuto sniggers as he shoulders past his boyfriend and into the hotel room. He pulls both his and Akaashi’s suitcases in after him, carefully maneuvering them to the end of the king sized bed. “Oh hush! No it’s not!”

Akaashi’s scoff turns into a gasp as he glances into the bathroom. Bokuto knows he’s seeing the giant bathtub with jets that they’re no doubt going to be taking advantage of later that night.

The room is also equipped with a large flatscreen TV, a small plush sofa and ottoman, a work desk (which Bokuto will NOT be allowing his man to use), high-end toiletries, a coffee bar (another thing Akaashi will be banned from; he needs to detox!) and a balcony with lounge chairs.

“This is bigger than my first apartment.” Akaashi sounds a bit offended. Bokuto skips over to grab his wrist to pull him deeper into the room. He points excitedly towards the large wardrobe pushed against one wall. 

“C’mon, babe, open that little door right there!”

One perfect eyebrow raised, Akaashi shrugs his backpack off before reaching to open the cupboard. He gasps again upon seeing the hidden mini bar, complete with snacks, tonic waters, and a set of crystal drink glasses.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Akasashi snaps. But he’s immediately reaching inside for a drink, so Bokuto counts it as a victory.

[that evening]

The hotel’s rooftop restaurant and bar is bustling when they arrive. Thankfully, Bokuto had been sure to make a reservation, so they get seated immediately at the best table—tucked in the corner, with a fantastic view of the city below.

“Wow.” Akaashi gulps as they settle in. “This is…”

“Incredible? Beautiful? The best thing ever?” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows.

“Fancy,” Akaashi corrects him. “Luxurious. EXPENSIVE.”

Bokuto shrugs, glancing down at the drink menu. “Get whatever you want, babe. It’s on me.” He ignores his boyfriend’s disgruntled huff. He is sure that eventually, Akaashi will start to relax and just let himself enjoy it.

(He’s willing to wait.)

With their drinks and food ordered, they fall into easy conversation. Bokuto watches with glee as Akaashi enthusiastically digs into his plate. The man is obviously not used to such delicacies, more accustomed to snacking on convenience store food and takeout.

“I think I like the sea urchin dish best,” Akaashi says, his rosy cheeks full of rice. As usual, a few grains have found their way onto his chin. His eyes are sparkling. 

Bokuto just grins.

[the next day]

“Koutarou, stop splashing.” 

“Sorry, babe!” Bokuto switches to a calm breast stroke as he approaches Akaashi. The resort’s pool is huge, allowing the already limited amount of guests to spread out enough to have plenty of their own space. Which is perfect—that last thing Bokuto wants his boyfriend to have to deal with this week is crowds.

Akaashi is floating lazily, elbows propped up on the edge. He glares, but there’s not much heat to it. “I could forgive you if you go find me a glass of rosé,” he says. Bokuto tuts. 

“You already had one.” Akaashi shrugs, causing Bokuto to laugh. “All right, but remember, we have that wine tasting class tonight! We don’t want you to show up to it already drunk, eh?”

Shrugging, Akaashi extends his legs. His ankles hook around Bokuto’s waist, capturing him and pulling forward. “You said this trip was for me,” Akaashi states, folding his legs further until their torsos are nearly touching. “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Bokuto’s hands find the pool edge, on either side of his boyfriend, intentionally capturing him back. “Anything for you, your highness.”

They stare at each other, heat quickly building in the space between. It’s a heat that is familiar, and oh-so exciting. But also a heat that is a bit too intense for a public space.

Begrudgingly, Bokuto pulls back, shifting his focus to retrieving the drink. He feels Akaashi’s eyes on him as he climbs out of the pool. He smirks. “Later,” he mouths, and delights at how the man’s ears go red.

[later that week]

Akaashi seems like a new person when he returns from the spa.

Bokuto knew that booking a massage for his boyfriend was of the utmost importance. The man’s grueling editor job had turned his once strong, nimble frame into a mess of knots.“How was it?” Bokuto asks as his boyfriend shuffles into the room. 

“Mmm,” Akaashi replies, blinking slowly. He’s dressed in a pair of joggers and a soft linen shirt, and the resort’s complimentary slippers. He makes it to where Bokuto is reading a magazine on the small sofa.

“Mmm?” Bokuto echoes, as Akaashi lowers himself into his lap. His hands slide up Bokuto’s chest and around his neck. “Keiji?” Bokuto’s arms circle Akaashi’s middle, noticing how the man’s body is still warm from the sauna.

He stays silent for a while, as Akaashi continues to melt further into his embrace. A mop of black curls is suddenly in his face as Akaashi’s head dips low, lips finding Bokuto’s neck. “Keiji,” he breathes.

“Hmm?” Akaashi smiles against his skin, making Bokuto shiver.

“You seem relaxed,” Bokuto says, biting his bottom lip as his boyfriend shifts slightly in his lap. “And, um, cuddly.”

Akaashi nods. Slowly, he pushes himself up so that they meet gazes. He leans forward to kiss Bokuto on the nose, each cheekbone, and then, finally, his lips.

“All thanks to you, love.”

[the final day]

Bokuto awakens slowly. It’s bright, even through the thick curtains, and he hears the sound of a bird chirping just outside the window.

He turns to see Akaashi dozing next to him, spread out on his back like a starfish. The massive bed allows him to without pushing Bokuto off the mattress—a common occurrence whenever they sleep together. 

(Not that Bokuto minds much; after all, his own snoring wakes Akaashi up all the time.)

Akaashi’s cheek is pressed into the silk pillowcase. His face is calm, without tension, free of the usual furrow to his brow he often does in his sleep. Bokuto can’t help but feel proud. He successfully got Akaashi Keiji, overworked manga editor and chronic over thinker, to relax!

He might just deserve a medal.

They don't have to check out until 11am, so Bokuto plans to let his man sleep as long as he needs.

Then, one last surprise—a special brunch at the fancy French cafe next door. 

He grins, satisfied.

Maybe he won't always have the means to do this for Akaashi. Who knows what the future holds. But for now, he's going to enjoy spoiling him as much as he can.

//

I totally forgot about this fic until I was looking through my WIPs this week. I know it’s random and unstructured, so apologies for that, but I didn’t just want it to trash it. SO here! If you enjoyed, please comment and share! 🥰💕

#bokuaka #my writing #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!! #fanfiction #haikyuu #fanfic

[narumi-gens]

Triptych | "You left me alone."

Chisaki Kai x f!Reader

summary: Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

chapter warnings: 18+ minors/blank/ageless blogs dni, yandere, angst, imprisonment, emotional manipulation, emotional/psychological abuse, depression, reader stops eating, codependency, abandonment issues

notes: this is from a non-chronological series so the parts can be read in any order (or on their own). shoutout to the anon who asked me a very long time ago when their "husband" (triptych) was "coming home from war" (unofficial hiatus). he's back, bb!

words: 1.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

The End

It’s hard to gauge time in the darkness. With no window to keep track of whether it’s day or night, the only way to track the passage of time is by the three daily meals that are left for you by a masked and silent guard. When you were first locked away, it was easy to count the meals and thus the days.

But as the days and the darkness and the isolation stretch on, your grasp on reality begins to slip. It’s difficult in the blackness to tell if your eyes are open or closed — if you’re sleeping or if you’re awake. Is this meal the first of the day or the second? Maybe it’s the third. 

The longer you spend in this room, in this cell, the more you can feel the life slowly draining from you. Eventually, you stop eating, your appetite fading altogether along with your will to keep fighting. 

Your faceless, nameless guard brings you a meal, only to take away an untouched one. You don’t know how long this goes on for. All you know is it doesn’t take long for your body to feel as fragile as your mind. 

Until one day, when the door to your prison opens and the figure holding a tray and standing in the doorway, backlit by the light from the hallway — the only light you ever see anymore — isn’t your usual guard. 

Despite the way your heart races at the sight of someone new, someone familiar, you remain still, too tired and weak to move even if you wanted to. All you can do is look at him with eyes squinting from the sudden brightness. 

“You’re not eating,” Kurono points out needlessly from the doorway. You can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. How long has it been since you’ve heard a voice other than the one in your head?

You watch in a daze as he walks toward you and sets the tray down on the table beside the twin-sized bed that you’ve been curled up in since you were first put here. The scent of your lunch, or maybe it’s dinner, reaches your nose and while your stomach reacts with a deep pang of hunger, you still feel no real appetite to actually eat what Kurono has brought you. 

You glance at the tray and see a shallow bowl on top. It must be a broth, something easy to digest after days — has it been days? — of eating nothing. When you look back at Kurono, you find that his head is tilted down in your direction. With his mask covering the entirety of his face, you can only assume that he’s turned his attention fully to you. 

There’s an unfamiliar sense of longing deep down inside of you. You wish he would take off the stupid mask. You’re desperate to see another person’s face.

“How-” you’re cut off by a small cough, your throat dry and scratchy, unused to speaking after so long spent alone in the dark. “How long have I been here?”

Kurono stays silent, refusing to answer your question. Against your will, tears begin to blur your vision from how much it hurts to be ignored by someone you know so well after having been locked away by yourself for so long. You must look pitiful because he softly sighs.

“You need to eat,” he says and even through your haze, you can hear his weariness. 

You wonder if he’s truly concerned or if he’s just tired of the irritable mood that Kai has surely been in since he put you here. But as you continue to stare up at him, you decide that it isn’t a fair assumption. For as long as you’ve known Kurono, whatever’s important to Kai is important to him. 

And apparently, there’s nothing of greater importance to him than you. Except for one thing…

“E-Eri,” you breathe out, a new type of desperation taking hold. “How’s Eri? Is she safe? Is she okay?”

They’re all stupid questions. Of course she isn’t safe. Of course she isn’t okay. She won’t be safe until you can take her far, far away from the Hassaikai and Kai. 

“If you don’t eat, Eri will be the one to pay.” The words are Kai’s even if they’re coming from Kurono, and they cut just the same.

Your next question escapes you before you’re even able to fully process it.

“Where’s Kai?” you rasp and you should feel embarrassed. You should feel ashamed for asking after the man who’s torturing a little girl, who incapacitated your father, who locked you away in the dark for what must have been weeks by this point. 

You should feel ashamed for asking after the man who’s been quietly controlling you and isolating you and manipulating you for your whole life. 

But you’re just so lonely. You would give anything to be free of the darkness.

Right now, you want nothing more than to see Kai, and the realization has a single tear finally escaping your eye and rolling across the bridge of your nose

“Kurono,” you weakly plead with a pathetic sniffle when he doesn’t answer you. “Hari…Where’s Kai?”

The use of his given name seems to soften his stony demeanor because he gives another quiet sigh.

“Eat,” he says, gentler this time, but you’re already beginning to spiral. The small hint of kindness he’s shown you, even when it’s dripping with pity, is too much for you to handle when you’ve been isolated and alone for so long.

“Please, tell him I don’t want to be here anymore,” you cry. You squeeze your eyes shut in a futile attempt to hold back your tears as the pillow beneath you quickly turns wet. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

The feeling of a warm hand on the side of your head has you opening your eyes back up to find Kurono now kneeling down at your bedside. His mask is held in his other hand, allowing you to see the slight frown on his lips as he watches you cry.

“You’ll feel better if you eat something,” he assures you and you want to protest, to continue to waste away into nothingness, but you remember Eri. 

Eri, who’s suffering, who’s being tortured, who will pay the price should you keep refusing to eat, who will truly have no one on her side if you disappear.

And so, after looking up at Kurono for a long moment, you weakly nod. It’s his steady hand that helps you sit up, holding you carefully but firmly when you feel lightheaded. Once he seems to think you’re no longer at risk of collapsing back onto the bed, he releases you to bring the tray to your side. 

Then, as if you’re nothing more than a child, he raises the bowl and brings a small spoonful of the broth to your chapped lips for you to sip. Anger bubbles in your stomach and you feel the urge to shove away the spoon, the bowl, and Kurono for the infantilizing behavior. 

The anger is almost a relief, letting you know that you’re capable of feeling something, anything, other than despair. But again, you think of Eri and swallow the broth without complaint. Just as you do when he gives you another spoonful and then another, eating what you’re given until you’re full, which admittedly doesn’t take too long. 

He gives you a soft smile before putting his mask back on, picking up the tray, and leaving you alone in the darkness once more. He doesn’t visit again, but the meals continue to show up on their usual schedule, three times a day, evolving from broths to more nutritious food once your stomach can handle something more. 

But one day — you’re not sure how many days later — instead of waking up to a meal, you open your eyes to find Kai sitting on the edge of your bed, patiently watching you. 

There’s a part of you that thinks you’re imagining his presence, or that maybe it’s a dream, until he places a glove-free hand on your cheek. His touch is achingly familiar and you’re overcome with self-loathing at how much comfort it provides you.

“Kai?” you breathe, tears of relief blurring your vision. His thumb gently brushes away the first one that escapes. Your own hand comes up to cover his where it cups your cheek, desperately and pathetically clinging onto him in a wordless plea for him not to let you go. 

“You said you’d never leave me alone, but you did,” you start to cry. “You left me alone.”

He lets you weep, his thumb continuing to swipe away the tears that he can catch with a touch that both burns and soothes. He offers no explanation or words of consolation, silently and calmly watching as you fall apart before him. 

It’s only when your sobs have started to die down that he encourages you to look back up at him with his touch.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he finally asks.

All you can do is move closer to him so you can bury your face in his lap as a fresh wave of tears comes over you. 

#tw yandere #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #overhaul x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero acedamia #boku no hero academia x reader #tripytch #mel writes #it's been so long since I updated this fic I forgot how to format it lol

[dulcesiabits]

the far side of a dream.

summary: On the stage, Sparkle plays whatever parts she desires, and all you can do is follow her lead.

notes: 1.6k words, complicated relationships, introspection

There are a few ways you describe your relationship with Sparkle.

Like a dream, perhaps, a fleeting vision of red and laughter that slips in through your window at night, swinging her legs on your desk, and pulling you closer to her, as if she’s the real owner of your house. She makes a mess of you for as long as she wants, and then she leaves, usually before you wake the next morning.

Like a firefly, a glimmering flicker of a star, that alights in your life only on a whim. Something soft and beautiful, that you know, instinctively, will flee the second you make any movement towards her. So you let Sparkle set the pace of your relationship, even if that means you’re the one who’ll be inevitably left behind.

Or maybe there’s really nothing that you compare her to. There’s no one like Sparkle across the universe, and there’s nothing you can do to make her stay any longer. Sparkle comes in and out of your life as she pleases, without any reason or warning. 

Trying to enforce logic onto her madness will probably drive her away all the sooner. The only way to keep her around is to have no expectation at all.

Sparkle swings her legs over the edge of the theater stage as you cross-legged next to her, thumbing through your recent script. Notes and highlights thickly scatter the worn pages, and you tap a pencil to your chin thoughtfully. 

“You should just cast me as the leading actress if you’re going to make a face like that. What are you so worried about?” A finger presses into the furrow between your brows, and you wince.

“Sparkle! That hurt.”

“Sorry,” she says casually. “But you’re so distracted. I’m right here, you know?”

“Wait. Do you mean what you said? Do you really want to join our play?” you ask, rubbing your forehead. “There’s probably a minor part I could–”

“Nope! Sounds boring, director.” She leans in and kisses the spot she has just poked, her lips as faint as butterfly wings.

“You said you wanted to join…”

“I didn’t say that. You’re assuming,” she says archly. “I just said you should cast me.”

“Okay, okay.” 

Sparkle hops up onto the stage, circling the worn wood, steps so light she might as well not have been touching the ground. It’s her favorite place to meet you, this small, shabby stage. It’s the one your troupe always performs at, the one always willing to host your various dramas and plays. 

The seats are covered in nubby velvet, and the lights flicker hotly above the two of you. Someone like Sparkle must have been on grander stages, surely, yet she still treats this tiny place reverentially. It’s not because of you. You’re not so arrogant as to think that.

Maybe she loves any stage at all, anywhere where she can perform, in the same way you do. Dreams unfurl like blooming flowers in this place. Stories spring to life, and actors captivate with the sweat on their brow and the arc of their gesturing arms.

But you shouldn’t prescribe your own feelings to her. Your relationship, after all, is a play, too: there is no past and no future, only the ever eternal present moment. You can’t call her by anything but her name.

Sparkle’s loop around the stage has brought her back to you. She looks down on you, smiling, and you tilt your head up. She could kiss you. Maybe she will, with how she leans her head down, but then Sparkle skips away, and your lips burn with the promise of her lost offer.

“Did you want something?” she says.

“If it’s from you, I’ll accept anything.”

You must have spoken the wrong words from the script, because her steps stop. You can’t hear them echo behind you.

“How boring,” she says flatly, somewhere out of your sight, and when you try to find her with your gaze, she’s no longer there.

Sparkle has vanished without a goodbye, leaving you alone under the lights by yourself. But that’s how it works, after all. She’s not yours. You’re hers, playing the roles of a dutiful relationship until the curtain falls.

The next time she appears in your life again, she does so without preamble. She sprouts out of nowhere, easily leaning her head on your shoulder, like she hasn’t been gone for the past few weeks, easily slotting back into her role as a loving partner as her arms encircle your waist. 

You’re on the stage again. During production, you arrive earlier and leave later than the rest of your troupe, but sometimes, even when there’s nothing going on, you like to come here just to think. Your thoughts are magnified by the empty seats and the cavernous space.

And, more than anything, it has the highest possibility of drawing Sparkle to you. Your home, cafes, scenic parks: none of those capture her attention. They’re predictable spaces. But on the stage, anything can happen.

“When’s your next production?” she asks you.

“We’re going to start rehearsal in a few weeks,” you say. “Do you want to come?”

“Hmmm.”

“If you have time, why don’t you stop by?” you venture. “It could be fun for you.”

The arms around you tighten like a vice. “Fun? You think it could be fun for me to be up here, with your troupe?”

“Yes! I mean, I’ve been around enough actors to tell when people care about the stage. And it looks like you love it, more than anyone else I’ve ever met. It’s impressive.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

In one swift movement, you’re pulled around and pinned down against the stage, Sparkle’s hands tightly gripping your shoulders. She smiles down at you, and despite the pleasant crinkle of her eyes, all you can see is the flash of teeth in her mouth, fangs glinting in the light. 

“Tell me. What side of me do you really like?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I said what I said. It’s because I want to know,” she says coyly. “That way I can best match your preferences. Do you like it when I’m sweet and cute? Or do you prefer maturity and elegance? Oh, but you always seem to like my jokes, too.” 

You cup your hand around her cheek, curling your fingers against the skin like it belongs there. Sparkle doesn’t react; you think you could do anything to her and she would give you the same flat stare.

She’s observing you, the dutiful actor, ready to adlib and adjust to however you try to change the script.

“What brought this on?” you murmur.

Her fingers claw into your shoulders, nails digging deeply enough that you wince at the prick of pain, at the sensation that cuts through fabric and into your flesh. “Tell me. There’s a part everyone wants others to play. Who do you want me to be?”

“Sparkle…”

She doesn’t look anything like the girl you know. Everything about her is flat, like a smooth canvas, unmarred by the stroke of a brush. A painter, waiting for your words to fill her with color and purpose.

You slowly raise your free hand and pull her mask onto her face. Sparkle’s fingers loosen momentarily, her eyes obscured by a grinning fox, and you swiftly pull her face down to you. You press a kiss against the coolness of her mask, the material slippery under your lips. 

“It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever part you want to play, I’ll adore it,” you whisper. “Because it’s always you playing it.”

Sparkle jerks back, her hands falling from your shoulders. She rolls off of you but then she pulls herself into a sitting position, her movements graceful and lithe. “What’s with that? I was joking, you know. You’re taking me too seriously.”

“I meant it though,” you say earnestly. “An actor is both their role and the person underneath. So I’ll also love both.”

“Weirdo.”

“Am I?”

“You are. I’m bored now,” she announces.

“But you just got here.”

Sparkle hops up. “So? I’m bored. You’re saying all these weird things, and it’s not fun at all.”

You bite your lip. She’s unknown to you right now. She’s always been unknown to you, and everything you can read from her gestures are things that Sparkle wants you to see. Now there’s nothing.

“All right. You know you’re always welcome here, if you want to come back.”

“If I feel like it. But I know why you’re telling me this.” She taps a finger against her chin.  “You’re going to be waiting for me until I come back, right? It might be cute to see what kind of face you’ll make if I make you wait.”

“... Don’t keep me waiting for long,” you say.

Sparkle doesn’t respond. In a flash, she disappears, leaving nothing behind to signal that she existed. She might really be a beautiful dream, then, someone that only exists in your imagination, in your hopes for the stage.

You hug your arms to your chest. Sparkle comes and goes, tugging your heart along as she pleases. She’s the main actress, and even you, the director, has to go along with her whims. As soon as it’s “boring,” she’ll leave, so you always need to prepare an entertaining script for your whimsical actress.

On a stage that’s already been set, Sparkle plays whatever part she desires. A firefly, a dream, an ordinary lover. But no matter what face she shows you or what role she plays, you’ll love them all.

#liya writes #honkai star rail #sparkle #sparkle x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #sparkle hsr #anyways. yay!! sparkle fic #no author's notes bc tbh I don't feel like writing any HAHA

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!! #men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....