#if any of them sees this just know that I can explain

[lovifie]

Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.

CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷

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It's not his fault, it's yours. 

He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 

But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 

It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 

During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 

Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.

But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”

He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 

Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 

He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 

More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 

But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 

He missed you. 

He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 

Maybe.

“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 

He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 

But he sees you.

The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 

Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 

“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”

You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 

“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 

“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”

There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.

“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”

“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 

He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 

This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 

But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 

And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 

“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.

And he knows it's you. 

It gotta be. 

And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.

“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 

He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”

“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 

“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 

“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”

“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 

And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 

The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.

Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 

Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 

And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 

The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.

“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”

To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.

And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 

Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 

And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 

Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 

And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 

And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.

Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 

He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 

The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 

And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 

The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 

Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 

You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 

“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 

A son.

He had a son. 

He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 

He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.

And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.

He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.

The happiest night of his life. 

He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 

And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 

Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 

His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 

So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it.��

And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 

“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”

Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 

“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”

“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 

More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 

But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 

“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”

The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 

“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”

And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 

“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”

And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 

You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”

You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 

“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 

He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 

“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.

“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.

“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 

Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 

Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 

“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”

He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.

Taglist:

@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z 

@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212 

@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121  @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  

@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk 

@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat 

@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw 

@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting 

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 

@katreintjie @sacvh @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr 

@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt 

#call of duty #call of duty smut #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod smut #call of duty imagine #ghost imagine #cod imagine #cod mw2 #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x you #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley #cod mwii

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

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

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

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

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

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

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

“That one is complicated.”

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

“You don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

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

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

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

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

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

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

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

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

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

He looks good. Almost too good. 

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

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

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

“Mm… why not both?”

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

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

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

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

“You sound sure of yourself.”

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

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

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

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

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

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

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

“So business as usual?”

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

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

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

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

You cover his hand with your own. 

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

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

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

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

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

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

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

“Every time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kisses your palm. 

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you gonna do after that?”

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

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

“Yes, please.” 

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

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

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

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

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

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

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

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

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

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

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

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

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

“I…”

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

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

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

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

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

He knows. 

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

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

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

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

24 hours go by. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

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

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

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

“What? Why?”

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

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

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

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

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

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

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

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

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

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

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

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

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take a wild guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we have to?”

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

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

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

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

“And I’m good. So...”

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

You groan in frustration. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to come inside you?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“’M not.”

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

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

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

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

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

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

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you find it?”

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

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

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

He gets the general sentiment. 

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

“Mhm!”

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

“Yes,” you cry. 

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

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

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

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

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

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

He’s barely kidding. 

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

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

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…?”

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

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

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

“You regret your first time?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You want to scream bloody murder. 

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

Maybe that’s worse. 

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

“I didn’t realize you…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight.”

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

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #this is luo binghe's palace now shen qingqiu just lives there #the only hiccup is that binghe is strangely bad at convincing anyone else to come work at the palace #shen qingqiu encouraged him to assist in finding other help but somehow binghe always comes up empty handed #oh well guess they'll have to continue living there just the two of them with no one else #(this eventually does change but binghe sulks for WEEKS about it)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

Could we get Gaz reacting to reader spreading rumours on base that they're dating for no good reason other than to undermine his authority and piss him off? (Inspired by your reader flirting with Gaz on the job piece) 🙏

tasty tasty tasty.

ok so there is a reason other than undermining his authority. but a pissed-off Gaz is a pissed-off Gaz, right?

26 / 1.4k / comes after flirting with Gaz on the job

...

You're on your way to a briefing, eyes cast down on the paperwork in your hands. You did not do your homework, as usual, so you're skimming what you can in the four minutes it takes you to walk to the meeting room.

Which is why you almost don't see Gaz standing in front of you, arm braced on the wall, blocking your way. To someone else, he'd read as neutral. You know his face too well to misread the stern glower tightening his features.

"Excuse me," you say, trying to sidestep him.

Gaz doesn't move. He also clearly knows he can't be moved. Not by you.

"Late for a meeting?" he asks lightly.

"No, sir, but I will be in just a few minutes. So if you don't mind--"

"Not at all," he says in a voice that implies the opposite. "Since you're about to be late anyway, how about you and me have a little chat, yeah?"

"I couldn't possibly take up more of your valuable time," you say, slipping into the flirtatious tone you so often direct at him. You try to slide past him, but nothing escapes Gaz. "Though I'm flattered you'd--"

He grabs your arm. Not roughly—he never touches you roughly, probably because you’d just egg him on—but firmly enough not to be ignored. "With me, Private."

You're too flustered to resist as he pulls you through the halls and into a different office. Captain Price's office, you notice.

⬇ nsfw, revenge porn

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair in front of desk, then sits himself on Price’s chair. The corner of his mouth curls up. That’s unnerving.

You don't sit. "Sir, I appreciate your urgency, but I really must get to my briefing. Shepherd will wonder where I am."

Gaz's stare is steady as a hawk's. You'd love the chance to gaze into his eyes under any other circumstances. But now?

"Then Shepard can take it up with me," he says. "He wouldn't be surprised to hear we're spending time together, after all. Or hasn't he heard?"

You sweat. Oh, shit. "I, um, don't know why he wouldn't be surprised."

His eyes harden. “No? I hear we've been spending quite a lot of time together lately. Funny how I was the last to know about it."

Inwardly, you cringe. "I can explain."

“Yeah?” he challenges you. He crosses his arms, leaning back. "You can explain where the hell you get off spreading grubby little rumors about how you and I are fooling around?"

"I said I can." You fidget with the stapled corners of the packets of paper in your arm, folding and creasing them as your mind runs at ninety miles an hour. "So what did you hear, exactly?"

"What I heard was that we're seeing each other in the least professional way imaginable," Gaz says, voice clipped. He keeps his expression and tone controlled only with visible effort. "That I’m having a cozy little fling with a private. Someone who is technically my subordinate. That could cost me a lot of time and patience if my superiors decided to write me up."

"But Captain Price would never believe that about you, though. Right? I mean, the rumor mill is always churning out something. Last month it was Sergeant MacTavish and the girl from IT."

His expression gets frostier. "You started the rumor about us. I know it was you."

You fight the urge to glance back at the door behind you. You try to weave an excuse together, but it gets stuck in your throat.

Gaz leans forward now. His glare is so sharp it could slice glass. He seems to grow in size as he stares you down. He’s so intense, so intimidating, so… right there. Way too close. You start to get distracted, swimming in his dark eyes, before his voice yanks you back to reality.

"I know because some prick claiming to be your ex-boyfriend confronted me about it. Said you put the idea in his head that I'm keeping you warm at night. Took a swing at me, too." He narrows his eyes. "I don't like being put in a position to defend your honor just to protect my reputation, Private."

You stumble through a litany of excuses--you had to get your ex off your back; you meant a different Sergeant Garrick; okay, maybe that's not true, but you only just told a tiny little fib. Is it really your fault the rumor spiraled out of control?

It doesn't work. In fact, as you babble on, Gaz only takes your flailing as proof of how guilty you are.

You're prepared for him to tear you a new asshole (though not in the way you'd want), but to your surprise, he doesn't. Instead:

"You’re going to make this right."

You blink. "I am?"

"Damn right you are. I did your dirty work for you, and I'm sure as hell not chasing down your ex and apologizing after the rubbish he spewed."

"Then... you want me to tell him I lied?"

Gaz scoffs. "It wouldn't work if you did."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

"Quiet down. I wasn't finished. There's no use trying to quell the rumors at this point; it'll only fuel them. So here's what we're gonna do."

…

You're not quite sure how this is going to solve the problem. It seemed rational when he explained it. Then again, anything coming out of Gaz’s mouth sounds reasonable to you.

You're sitting across from him at a low-key dinner joint. Not the kind of upscale place you're used to being taken to on dates. Then again, this place wasn't your choice. And technically you're treating him to dinner. He’s the one who’s quote-unquote "breaking up" with you.

When you'd questioned his logic, pointing out that it'd be way easier to just not and say you did, he gave you a half-amused, half-condescending look that made your stomach too fluttery.

"If you're gonna use my name and risk my reputation to be my fake girlfriend, I'm gonna get something out of it," he'd said. So now you've gotta wine and dine him at his favorite restaurant, and then you're gonna have to sit there and be broken up with. As if he hasn't shamed you enough.

That sucks. This sucks. You never even got a real date with him. And with your luck, your ex is gonna find out.

You do try to flirt your way back into his good graces during this fake-relationship-real-date. He just scoffs. Doesn't just no-sell you--he actively bites back and he's pretty damn mean about it.

You're not just a liar, he tells you--you're dense. If you'd asked him out like a normal person instead of flirting with him and then starting stupid rumors, he'd have considered it. When you tell him you had asked him out and he’d turned you down, he scoffs and tells you he'd have split the bill instead of making you pay, at least.

That's as far as he intends for it to go. But then, while you're waiting on the check, he gets a text from an unknown number.

It's a video. Of you.

You doing some very lewd things to what looks like your ex-boyfriend. Blowing him in the bathroom of some club or a restaurant much dingier than this one. If that's where he's been taking you on dates, Gaz can understand why you broke up with him.

Enjoy my sloppy seconds, chud, says the accompanying smug text.

Gaz is also starting to understand why you lied to get your ex off your back.

"What is it?" you ask, seeing the look on Gaz's face as he stares down at his phone.

"Nothing," he says, putting his phone away as the waiter sets down the check. Gaz pushes his chair out and rises, trying his best not to show any emotion, but his words are a little too sharp. "Let's go.”

"Now?" you ask, surprised. "I thought you were going to--I thought we would get our story straight about the, um, the breakup."

"We can figure it out on the way."

"To where?”

"Your place."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

#mine #story #ask #soft dom gaz #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz cod #kyle garrick #gaz Garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz Garrick x reader #kyle gaz Garrick x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[mechaknight-98]

Dominant (NSFW) FT Haseul

Author’s note: Wanted to experiment a bit so I did a little something for @blanceverlast

"What do you mean I'm a surrogate baby?" I ask my parents.

"Well, JJ, you know we've had fertility issues, so we turned to surrogacy for help," my mom explains, but I narrow my eyes, questioning why this revelation is only surfacing now.

"Well, your 'mom' would like to meet you," my mother adds.

"And what does she do?" I ask, puzzled.

The plane ride to South Korea overwhelmed me; I never imagined my "mom" would be so far away. Yet, surrogacy can originate from anywhere, I suppose. As I sit in the back of the plane, my seatmate approaches.

She wears a mask, yet there's an enchanting aura about her. Smiling (or at least I assume so, judging by her eyes), she sits beside me. The plane takes off, and we sit in silence. Despite my efforts to stay awake, exhaustion eventually overtakes me, and I drift off to sleep.

Upon awakening, I feel a lightweight on my shoulders. I crane my neck to see my seatmate. Her mask has slipped down, revealing her face. As our eyes meet, arousal floods through me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she says, smiling.

Enraptured by her beauty, I stumble over my response. "I'd love it if you bothered me. Wait, no... you're no bother."

She smiles and sits up across from me. "Call me Haseul," she says with a pleasant voice. I smile back, extending my hand for her to shake.

"JJ charmed to meet you," I reply. Haseul takes my hand happily.

"So, what brings you to Korea?" she inquires.

I hesitate, searching for an appropriate response. "Um, my surrogate wanted to meet me," I reply. Haseul looks at me, puzzled, before smiling.

"Okay," she says before taking out her tablet. I glance over her shoulder, and she catches me.

"Do you like Kaiju research?" she teases, having caught me off guard. Surprisingly, I enthusiastically replied yes. Haseul's eyes flicker with interest.

"Oh? Then look this over and tell me what you see," she says confidently, handing me the tablet. I study the notes and diagrams, absorbing the information.

"This is a new species of Kaiju," I declare.

Haseul looks surprised. "Wait, how did you deduce all of that from my research?"

"Well, the DNA sequence at the 8th and 24th helix links is wholly different from any other Kaiju in the same family. Plus, if you examine the dorsal plates aligning with the spine, there's an unusual vein structure depicted in them," I explain.

Haseul's eyes widen in astonishment. "How did you notice all of that?"

"I like Kaiju," I admit.

Haseul looks impressed and asks me to go over all the research she just completed. Over the next several hours, we fill the time pouring over her findings. By the end of the flight, we've barely scratched the surface of this new Kaiju she accidentally discovered.

"Shit, we need more time. Hey, when you're done visiting your 'surrogate,' come to this lab," Haseul says as we pack up. She hands me a business card and her personal cell number. As we prepare to go our separate ways upon landing, I notice a dark-skinned woman who sees me and says, "James?" I look at her before Haseul pops up behind me.

"Yuma, you know JJ?" Haseul asks.

"Yes, he's my son," Yuma replies in English before saying something else in Korean that I don't understand.

Haseul's eyes widened as she smiled knowingly. The two women led me to a van, and we all piled in. Yuma remained silent for a while before speaking up, "You're probably hungry, James. Are you in the mood for anything?" she asked hopefully.

I nodded, replying, "Teriyaki Chicken sounds great about now." Haseul burst into laughter, causing Yuma and me to turn to her.

"What's so funny?" I asked. Haseul responded between chuckles, "You really are Yuma’s son. She loves teriyaki chicken as well," teasing with a cheeky smile. I shrugged, and Haseul's smile softened into an unfamiliar emotion. I chuckle as we get the food to go before piling back in the car.

We arrived at the laboratory, and Yuma took me aside to her office. "You’re probably wondering why I brought you here, why I did all of this," she said with a crooked smile similar to mine.

"Well, I just wanted to meet you and talk to you," she explained.

"I carried you to pay for my doctorate in Kaiju studies. I read field books to you while you were in my tummy, watching marathons of Godzilla, and Gamera movies while I studied just to stay awake, and feel you kick. It made me reconsider numerous times if I should give you up, but I was in no space to take care of a child. So I buried my growing feelings and went to term, but recently I have been feeling this gnawing emptiness. Against my better judgment, I reached out to your parents to meet you. I just wanted to hold my baby boy one more time," she said, hugging me tightly.

"A baby boy who's not so baby anymore,"

Yuma said, and I chuckled at her observation. A feeling of safety washed over me, and tears poured from my eyes. Before any other words could be said, a voice interrupted us. A big, burly man entered the room and said, "Excuse me, Yuma, you are needed." My "mom" broke the hug and smiled at me.

As I waited in the office, the door opened, and Haseul popped in. "Oh, great, you're here. Can I get your help with something?" she asked with a mischievous smile. I hesitated but couldn't resist her, so I nodded.

"Good boy," she purred, and I felt a strange sensation as she kissed me. Haseul broke the kiss and smiled. "Good, now you're nice and dumb. I need your help looking over a few charts for me, and I need you not to overthink," she said with authority. My mind was left in a hazy fog as she led me into the room.

I put my headphones in as Haseul sat at her desk and asked me to go over and aggregate some data charts. She handed me a laptop and an Excel sheet, and I diligently compiled and aggregated the numbers she'd asked for, going above and beyond by conducting a qualitative analysis of Kaiju markings and identifying outliers and notable specimens. When my "mom" came to look for me, I'd finished a substantial amount of work.

"Oh, JJ, there you are," she said as she entered the office. I looked up and nodded. She walked over and examined what I was doing, furrowing her brows before turning to Haseul, who was deeply engrossed in her work. A smile crept onto my lips as I watched her. My mom noticed and smirked before addressing Haseul, "Um, excuse me, but I think my son has helped you do half your work."

Haseul looked up at my mom and quickly apologized, "Oh, Mrs. Yuma, I'm so sorry, but JJ has been so helpful."

"I can see that. His notes on your compilation have been extensive," my mom teased. Haseul turned red but quickly pressed on, "It's not just that; he has an almost ocean-deep knowledge of Kaiju."

I shrugged, "I just like them," I responded. Haseul smiled, and I felt that strange sensation again, but this time, it was more intense. My mom noticed and smirked as we headed back to her place. On the way back, she asked me a question I 100% expected.

"Do you like Haseul?" I nodded, and my mom smirked, "Be careful with her," was her only warning. Sadly (but not really), I didn't heed it.

Haseul’s claws (she's a Red Panda Kaijin) were comforting and sexy even before she wrapped them around my throat. She started small with pet names like my puppy or Handsome. Then came some light flirty glances and touches. That's what sealed the deal I was hers. Her little pup to mold and shape how she saw fit. 

This all culminated in the day before I left. I helped her and my mom finish something and Haseul said, “Oh my little pup so dumb but eager to please,” my brain broke and I responded (thankfully my mom wasn't there to hear this)

“Oh please fuck me dumb. Mark me and claim me as yours Haseul,” Haseul smirked at me. Her eyes narrowed as her scent filled my nostrils leaving me lightheaded and aroused. She slipped over to me and sat on my lap. Her voice took on a Saccharine and lurid pitch as she spoke, 

“Oh my needy pup, what makes you think you deserve my touch,” she coos and I moan which turns her smirk into a wicked smile. If it wasn't clear to her before it was now. I am her little pup. I'm only hers to play with and manipulate as she sees fit. One hand palms my hardening cock and the other wraps itself around my throat. She smiles maliciously as my breath hitches and her control over me becomes absolute. She extends her talons enough to draw blood but my horny head only draws a euphoric pleasure from the sensation.

“I could rip your throat out and you'd ask me if you were a good little pet?” she said which elicited another moan from me, “Oh dumb pup I'm going to have fun training you.” Haseul gloated, as she began to stroke my rod.

As she did she licked my blood off of her talons the lurid sight drove me to new heights. After she licked the blood off her talons she licked my neck where she pierced me. I felt the wounds begin to heal as she eyed me with a ravenous hunger before telling me, open your mouth for me pup, and stick your tongue out.” I follow her command and she sucks my tongue while it's out before inching closer until our lips touch and devours me in a kiss. I resign myself to being her prey, she smiles viciously and then abruptly stops. My body jolts at her with a drawl of touch. 

“Later my puppy. I don't want you to make a mess,” Haseul replies. I groan and get up trying to relax and take my mind off of her touch

Before I could walk off Haseul said, “No stay!” I returned to her as she commanded. She smiles. “I trained you so well. What a good boy.” Haseul says with her most proud and soothing tone.

“Sit” Haseul commands and I do. She revels in her power over me. I'm just so happy to see her happy. 

“So here is how it's going to go puppy. I am going to not touch you for the rest of the day but when we get off meet me at my apartment and we will finish what we started,” Haseul said seductively. I nod and she smiles. We get back to work and she says, “Good boy,” 

After I finish my “work” my mom has to stay late and leaves in the care of Haseul. Before I leave my mom gives me a rather large sum of won and says “Treat Haseul well tonight.” I nod and we drive off. I ride with Haseul and ask

“You hungry,” Haseul nods and we decide to head to a nearby restaurant. It's a pizza joint. We get in and I sit with Haseul. I'm nervous as this is a very different level type of intimacy that we haven't shared before. I swallow my nerves and go for the safest compliment I could think of. “Your glasses are great really show off how your eyes are dazzling,” I say. Haseul beams with a shy smile. “Oh, so that's the way to turn the tables,” I tease. Haseul narrows her eyes. 

“Careful pup. I can take you to heaven tonight or leave you in purgatory,” Haseul says bitingly. I smile 

“What so funny?” Haseul asks accusingly. 

“Haseul I'm not trying to do anything funny I just really like you and no it's not just because of all “claiming” you've done. You're witty, compassionate, and gorgeous. Plus you like all the dumb stuff I like. Why would I upset you,” I reply Haseul blushes intensely before our food arrives. We eat in relative silence but Haseul makes sure I'm full and hydrated. She reasons that she wants her puppy to be ready for his walk. We entered her apartment and she excused herself to her bedroom before calling for my help.

And now you're all caught up

“So my pretty Firebear, what would you like to do first,” I ask. Haseul smiles

“Ooh, I like that,” Haseul coos, and our lips meet. 

We break out first kiss and she smiles before pouncing on me. She rips open my pants and shirt before saying, “Be a good little puppy, and let me ride you,” 

 

Haseul takes me inside her and my mind goes blank. She’s so tight. I try to formulate words but she starts to grind her crotch against mine. She leans in closer and says, “Oh my little puppy isn't so little,” I moan at her expert control over my body. Her touch is delicate but powerful. I watch as she sets her hands down and uses me as a tool for her pleasure. 

“How is it,” I ask eagerly to see if I can grant her higher satisfaction Haseul moans out 

“Oh God Puppy you fill me up so well,” I smile seeing Haseul lose herself to the pleasure. Her folds are soft and giving but viciously tight causing the friction between us to become so intense that I can't help but moan out as my mind turns into further slurry. 

Watching me devolve seems to excite Haseul more as she gets tighter.

“Is my needy little puppy gonna cum,” she asks I groan and she laughs, “Come on puppy. Use your words.” 

Haggard, I rasped out (in English ), “fuck take me. claim me as yours!” Haseul smiled 

“Oh I like it when you lose control and your native tongue comes out,” she coos. My cock swells within her as her pussy tightens around me. 

“That's right my little dumb slut to be used and abused,” Haseul said before wrapping her hand around my throat my breathing hitched as the terror and pleasure mixed. I couldn't think straight and just fed into her degradation of me, 

“Yes, I'm your slutty puppy. I'm only good for my cock which doesn’t deserve to cum,” I watch as Haseul's eyes widen at my words. she smiles,

"Yes You're my puppy who only cums when I want him to and you've been such a good puppy," she says moaning as I can feel her near her release. "Now Puppy cum with me," Haseul says while moaning. I groan as her words and her pussy push me to release. we cum together and Haseul Smiles.

"Good puppy," she coos, as we pass out

#kpop fanfic #male reader #fanfic #loona haseul #artms haseul #haseul smut #jo haseul #haseul

[discordantwritings]

Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex

WC: 3.3k

Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.

The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional

Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.

Tagging: @keiva1000

Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.

Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.

Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.

“Doctor-“

“How bad.”

“It’s Mihawk.”

That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”

“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.

You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.

“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.

You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”

“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.

There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”

You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.

“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.

You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”

“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.

“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”

You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.

All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.

“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.

“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“

He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”

Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“

“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.

“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.

“You have my word.”

“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”

It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”

His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.

“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”

Oh.

That would certainly explain a few things.

You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…

“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”

“What else.”

“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.

“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.

“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”

“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”

You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”

That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.

“I would help you.”

You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?

Beyond wildly inappropriate.

“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.

“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.

Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.

Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”

“Last chance.”

The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“

The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.

The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.

You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.

“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.

“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.

The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.

Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.

“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”

You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.

“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.

“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.

Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.

“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.

Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.

You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.

“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.

You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.

Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.

“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”

There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”

When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.

“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.

“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.

“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.

“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.

Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.

“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.

Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.

“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”

He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.

“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.

There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.

“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“

Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.

“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.

When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”

“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”

The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.

“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.

“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #x reader #discordantwritings

[daisyblog]

First Date

Summary: Harry and YN are set up on a date.

2019

Jonny had separately nagged YN and Harry to let him set them up on a date. Harry’s argument was that he was in the middle of writing his second album, and wanted to be on his own after his last break up. YN’s protest was that she was a single working Mum who didn’t have the time, and added “nobody wants to date a single mum”. 

After what felt like months of constant begging, Harry and YN both gave in to their friend and agreed to go on a date. Jonny had arranged for them to meet at a small quiet restaurant on the outskirts of London, knowing Harry would want to stay under the radar. 

YN had been nervous all day. She had messaged Jonny several times to try and cancel but he insisted that it was just nerves and she should give it a chance. Harry felt mixed emotions, part of him was nervous, he was meeting someone new but the other part of him was excited because he knew Jonny wouldn’t set him up with just anyone. 

Harry arrived at the restaurant first, being fifteen minutes early. He was shown to their table which he was grateful was tucked into a corner away from other tables. He knew that was down to Jonny’s request. Wanting to calm his nervous, Harry ordered a bottle of wine for them, hoping YN liked it too. 

He had just taken a small sip from his glass, when he saw the waiter walking towards him with a woman following behind. Harry stood from his chair, ready to greet her. “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. Harry spoke first, bringing YN in for a hug. 

“Jonny and his persuasive ways huh?”. YN joked, causing Harry to smile knowing Jonny must have nagged YN as much as he had nagged him. 

Harry pulled YN’s chair out for her to sit before taking his place back in her own. “I ordered wine, I can get you something else if you’d prefer”. 

“No…wine is perfect, thank you”. YN smiled with appreciation, showing her little dimples. “I like your tattoos”. She complimented as she noticed them on his arm, that was exposed due to his short sleeved shirt. 

Harry glanced down as he looked at his arm, smiling slightly at the mixture of ink that covered his skin. “Uh thanks…I have too many to count”. He giggled. “Do you have any?”. He gestured to his tattoos. 

YN hesitated before explaining. “I have one…on my wrist”. She turned her hand over to reveal the delicate ink on her right wrist. “It’s my son’s name”. YN watched for a change in Harry’s response or how he may end the date now. 

But what surprised YN was Harry’s genuine grin as he looked down at her wrist. “What’s his name?”. His question was genuine, YN could tell by how he looked at her directly in the eye which a soft look. 

“Jacob”. YN smiled as she thought about her favourite person. The little boy who saved her in more ways than he would ever know. “He’s five and a real sweetheart.”. Harry noticed how YN’s whole face lit up as she spoke about him. “Does me having a son not bother you?”. YN couldn’t help but ask.

Harry frowned at her question before shaking his head. “Of course not…I don’t date people based on if they’re a parent, or if they have a certain job or x amount of money in the bank…I date people for them.”. 

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help but ask, I’m not used to people being so understanding when it comes to Jacob”. YN apologised, hoping she hadn’t ruined the date before it had started properly. 

“Hey…it’s fine, you can be yourself tonight…there’s no judgement from me.” Harry reassured her, knowing how it felt for someone not to get to know you and having a false opinion. 

“Thank you…that really means a lot”. YN smiled before taking a sip from her glass, needing to treat her dry throat. 

“So tell me about you and Jacob…I can see he’s your life and I want to know more”. The sentence caused a spark in YN’s chest at how interested Harry was in not only her but the one person who mattered the most. 

Harry and YN had talked, laughed and smiled all evening. YN couldn’t remember the last time she felt like herself and was able to be just YN and not just a Mum. Harry wondered how he hadn’t met YN sooner because for once someone didn’t want to speak to him because he was Harry Styles, he could see that YN was genuinely interested in getting to know him as just Harry. 

Harry had learnt that YN was in university studying business when she fell pregnant but had to drop out before graduating. But now owned her own florist in London. He noticed that she hasn’t mentioned her family apart from Jacob, but decided it was best to leave it that way for now. She didn’t ask one question related to the band or his music, she asked questions about his family, where he grew up, his childhood memories and all the little things that built up who he is today. 

After they had finished their meals and nicely argued about how the bill was going to be paid, they found themselves walking through a quieter part of town, still chatting and giggling like two teenagers. They wanted to blame the wine but deep down they both knew it was from the excitement of each other. 

Harry had arranged for a taxi to drop them both back home. They were both supposed to realise that YN didn’t live far from Harry’s Hampstead house. He walked YN up to her door to make sure she was home safe. They both stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. Smirks covering their smiles. 

“I had a really nice time tonight”. Harry broke first, meaning what he had said. 

“Me too!”. YN felt shy for the first time all evening. 

“Can I see you again?”. Harry was bold, he hadn’t felt like this after a date before and he wasn’t willing to lose his chance. 

YN smiled, she felt special and chosen for once and inside she was screaming with happiness. Harry really wanted to see her again. “I’d love that”.

They quickly swapped numbers and Harry was eager to arrange to see YN again. Before making his way back to the taxi that was waiting patiently, he leaned in to hug YN goodbye. It was like neither of them wanted to let go but the feeling of Harry’s lips leaving a peck on her cheek is what caused YN to jump around in happiness once she closed the door behind her that night.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles writing #one direction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x oc #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles fic #harry styles series masterlist #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #liam payne #harry 1d #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #harry edward styles #dadrry

[meechlamajor]

literally anything for Kate Martin

Kiss and Makeup — Kate Martin x Fem!Reader

In which you and Kate have a heated argument, and you feel conflicted between your morals and feelings.

Warnings: angst (I made Kate into a little bit of a bitch I’m upset with myself for it negl) and fluff!

Author’s note: kudos to @fallofachilles for the prompt idea! + I hope you guys like the new layout I’m trying, despite the simplicity. Consider this a birthday gift from me to you guys, but for my birthday ♡!

You sit on the floor of the off-campus apartment that you share with Kate, pulling everything that Kate had just put into her suitcase out. She quite literally shoved everything in there and there was just no way that she would fit everything she needed in there. You were unsure about how she did this before meeting you.

“Babe,” you huffed. “I keep telling to you to stop waiting until the last moment to pack! You wouldn’t have to rush if you listened.”

“Okay Mom, sorry,” Kate brushed the fly aways out of her face and sat next to you.

You rolled up each item so that you could get the most out of the space in her suitcase.

“Do you have your extra pair of shoes in another bag or something?” You inquired. You’d gone through everything and they hadn’t turned up.

“No baby, they’re in our room,” Kate replied to you, but never got up.

“Go get them!” You widened your eyes, motioning to the bedroom. “Sheesh.”

Kate came back with them in hand, “I thought you were going to get them.”

You swore when you heard that your eye twitched. “Uh— why would I do that? You’re able.”

“Well… you just usually do. It’s a ‘girlfriend’ thing to do,” Kate explained, shrugging.

You chuckled, warmth spreading up the back of your neck and to your face. “So as your girlfriend I’m supposed to baby you and wait on you hand and foot?”

The room becomes tense and your heart beats in your ears. You remain patient though, trying to hear your girlfriend out.

“Well no, but I didn’t ask for you to do any of this,” Kate motions to her clothes on the floor. “It’s our normal routine. What’s the problem?”

You groan, running your hands down your face. “I do it because I want to and because I love you! I don’t have to do any of it— I could literally let you go to the airport and pay a fifty dollar fee because your luggage is overweight, but I don’t!”

Kate shoved her tongue into her cheek and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I don’t understand what I said wrong! Why disrupt our routine?”

“You sound like such a man,” you curse. “The problem is that I’m realizing that you don’t respect me or even value me! I know that you work so hard, so I do these things to take some of the weight off off your shoulders, and you’re not even the tiniest bit grateful!”

Kate drops her bright pink shoes onto the hardwood floors, the sound echoing through the apartment. Her eyes glance at them and then you. A staring contest goes on for thirty seconds and you chuckle bitterly before rising to your feet.

You strut toward the bedroom, grabbing your backpack.

“What are you doing?” Kate questions you, following you into the room. But, you ignore her as you raid the dresser for clothes.

You shove your clothes into the bag, not giving nearly as much care to your items as you give to Kate’s. Your toiletries lay on top. You swing the bag over your right shoulder, saving your left hand for your keychain.

“Where are you going!?” Kate continues. “You cannot be ignoring me right now. You- come on!”

“Clearly, you’ve gotten too comfortable and you seem to think that I’m your maid or something. I’m leaving and you can have fun spending a week without me.”

-

You found yourself staying with your friend Karissa for a few days. You almost went to Jada’s dorm, but there was no way that you wouldn’t end up seeing Kate there.

While you stayed with Karissa, you had some time to think. Were you babying Kate? You just thought that she might appreciate what you do for her, but she made it obvious that now it had become more of an expectation of you.

You felt conflicted. You always told yourself that you wouldn’t tolerate disrespect from anyone, including your partner. If you forgave Kate, would you basically be telling her it’s okay, I don’t mind that you disrespected me?

But at the same time, you love Kate and it hurts you to be away from her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Karissa asked as she joined you on her plush white couch.

“Thinking about Kate,” you say.

“But, that’s literally all the time so what difference does it make?” She jokes, channel surfing.

“The difference is that I haven’t spoken to her in three days because my pride won’t let me,” you sigh. “I don’t want to give in too easy.”

“You don’t have to,” Karissa chimes. “Okay, listen. Forget about whatever lesson you’re trying to teach her, and instead just think about what you want.

Maybe it’s not about you wanting her realizing that she needs you, but it could be more about the fact that she hasn’t shown you much appreciation.”

You nod, “but, I know that she’s busy. It’s hard for her to do that stuff all of the time.”

“You’re making excuses for her now. Sure she’s busy, but aren’t you, too? You balance your classes, a job, and extracurriculars, but you still find time to show Kate how much you love her and do things that she would like, including packing her bags for her before an away game.

It doesn’t have to be elaborate it, but you do deserve to be considered. That’s all I’m saying.”

You don’t reply, but your phone vibrates at your side with a text from the girl you were just speaking of.

KATE: Will you come home, please? We should talk.

You read over the message a few times, thinking about how you might reply. Truth be told, you were tired of being apart and you did just want to go home to your girlfriend.

YOU: I’ll be there in about an hour.

You kept your text short and sweet. It definitely wouldn’t take you an hour to get there, but you wanted to give yourself some leeway.

-

With your key in hand you unlock the door to the apartment you share with Kate, and sit your bag down on the floor.

It’s eerily quiet, to which you raise your eyebrows. You stalk toward your bedroom, and are met with the sight of those faux tea candles, roses, and what seemed to be a few gifts on the bed.

The room had been decorated with balloons and a big banner that read: I LOVE YOU.

You turned to look for Kate and there she stood in the doorway, a small smile on her face, but you couldn’t move past the look of guilt in her eyes.

“What’s all this for?” You inquire, taking a deep breath.

Kate’s gaze flickers around the room in hesitation, almost like she’s doubtful of something.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to butter you up so that you forgive me, but it’s time that I showed my appreciation for you.

You’re right, I did get too comfortable and I stopped thanking you. The way that I spoke to you was wrong. I love you, and what I did and lack thereof was wrong. The three days without you admittedly were hard, I forgot to do a lot of the things that you took on the responsibility of.

I’m just… sorry for not appreciating and recognizing what you do for me sooner, babe. You take so much of the weight off of my shoulders every single day, and I promise to put forth more effort when it comes to valuing you.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at her words because that’s all that you really wanted. You wanted to know that your efforts didn’t go unnoticed and that they meant something to her.

Without words you bring Kate into a hug, your arms wrapping around her neck and hers around your waist. You speak into her neck, “I won’t say that it’s okay, but I do accept your apology.”

When you both pull away she locks her lips with your own, her hands squeezing at your hips. Her lips taste like mint from the chapstick she wore. The kiss was tender and sweet— it felt different from the last ones you two had shared. There was a promise in it, one that the both of you wouldn’t break.

Your foreheads rest upon one another until Kate backs you into the bed, forcing you to sit down. She joins you at your side.

She glances at the two gift boxes, signaling for you to open them. The wrapping paper was your favorite color. The small details were always so cute to you.

You unwrap box one and open it to find some body care products like body wash and body scrub. Kate always knew how much you enjoyed self-care days. It always made you feel good inside and out.

You opened the body scrub and brought the container to your nose, “oo that’s nice!”

Kate watches as you open the other box with a smile, happy that she could make you smile again.

“Should I run you a bath?” She asks. “We can have ice cream after and watch Love Is Blind.”

“Run us a bath,” you beam. “And don’t be mad, but I watched a few episodes without you.”

Kate got up from the bed, “wouldn’t be the first time, babe.”

#meech la major #meech’s thoughts #iowawcbb #iowa wbb #kate martin x reader #kate martin my beloved #kate martin

[luciddownloading]

Tarot Reading (Pick A Card): What Are Their Current Intentions? 💌

Hey, everyone. I am back for another Tarot reading today. I took some time away from this blog and doing readings because I needed to self-care, to reflect and regroup. But, now I'm back! So, let's get into it.

Today, we are going to be looking at your person's current intentions. Meaning what do they want out of this connection, what do they want to give you and what actions do they plan on taking. Remember that energy can always change. I will give it to you honest, per usual, but try not to either get too frustrated by a reading or overly idealize a situation because of a reading you receive, either. My motto for love readings is "don't stress, don't obsess".

Also, on Patreon, I will be doing an extended reading where we will see what will happen the next time you see your person. So, if you're interested in joining me over there, the link to the extended will be at the end of each pile's reading.

I am also not taking reversals because I tried to earlier and the energy just felt very off. I feel like I have just gotten into such a groove of not taking them that I am probably just not meant to for awhile.

Anyway, choose the image or images below that you are most drawn to. The theme for today: birds. Why? Because a little birdie is going to tell me what your person's intentions are. Lol idk. Sometimes, I just choose what's most aesthetically pleasing to me in the moment.

As always, trust your intuition. It will tell you if you have chosen the right pile or if there are messages here for you. 💚

PILE 1

PILE 2

PILE 3

PILE 4

PILE 1

Knight of Cups

(clarified by: Seven of Swords)

Judgement

(clarified by: The Star)

Three of Pentacles

(clarified by: The Tower)

Queen of Pentacles (back of the deck)

Pile 1, I have the feeling that your person has some explaining to do! I think, in the past, they played around on you quite a bit. This could have been a situationship that never went anywhere, an unfulfilling relationship or even some kind of unrequited love situation. Regardless, there was some sort of major ending. A fall out. A bridge burned, even, for some of you. And I actually think it was good for you. Even though it was painful, ending things with this person was very empowering for you. I am getting that phrase "may the bridges I burn light my way". You kind of feel like you're in unbothered mode, moving on, while this person is still very much hurting over this.

So, what are their current intentions? Well, they want you back. I say that because I am hearing the Nsync song I Want You Back. But, I get the feeling from you that this is vaguely amusing or even hilarious and ridiculous. Even though they are planning on making this romantic gesture, I don't know how successful it will be and they don't either. I guess we will see in the extended! But, the thing I am feeling is that they really did something to disrespect you or take you for granted. They may have even lied in some way. At the very least, they hurt you unnecessarily and it's no one's fault but theirs. You know that and, if it's any comfort, they know it, too.

Tbh, I am definitely getting "third party" energy here. And I feel like this went one of two ways. They may have chose someone else over you and this person turned out to, honestly, be a total nightmare. The connection definitely feels karmic and in that very painful way that karmic relationships can be. They may not have realized what they were signing up for with this person til they were in it. Also, maybe this person isn't overly toxic but the situation is just very unstable. One of the reasons why is... you. Which is funny because you kind of have the energy of the "now why am I in it?" meme. You aren't in this relationship and you aren't pursuing this person. But, this karmic knows how much your person loves you, maybe through suspicion or an intuitive sense. They know they can't compare and it's something that makes them very insecure.

I see you as this Queen of Pentacles to your person. Regardless of your gender, you are a very feminine being who has a stabilizing, nurturing effect on them. In fact, this might become a bit of an issue because they could project their mother complex on to you, sometimes. It's easy for you to fall into that but I think you have been working on it. You have been learning to put yourself and your needs first. You could have birth chart placements in Earth: Taurus, Virgo or Capricorn. As caring and sensitive as you are, you are also very sensible. And that level head has allowed you to set very firm boundaries now with this person.

But, I will say that you don't have to necessarily burn a bridge with this person. And if you have, you can rebuild it. You can be firm and strong yet still kind. There is hope for this connection but it's also up to you and your free will. This person used their free will to choose someone else. So, you can use your free will to choose yourself, if you want. It's funny because I am not getting a lot about THEIR intentions because, in the end, your Guides want you to remember that this is up to you. Even though you feel a powerful connection with this person, even though they want you back, you get to choose what path you want.

I also get the feeling that this person is far from ready. They are trying to get ready. And maybe you don't want to wait around for that. But, they are going through some massive changes and that is destined, whether you end up together or not. You were the catalyst for that. But, they are a little too focused on getting you back, as if you are this goal or prize. And to quote the legendary Princess Jasmine, you are not a prize to be won! It may be especially messy because they might still be with this third party. BUT, I don't think they will come forward to you with this romantic offer until it's done. It may end in a very dramatic fashion, though. Actually, I think it most likely will end that way lol.

They still have a lot to learn. They are this Knight of Cups. They want to be emotionally available to you but they are still not quite mature enough yet. They could definitely have Water placements in their chart: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces. Scorpio, most likely, is coming through strongly. (They could also have Aquarius energy or you could) They are highly secretive in a lot of ways and the biggest thing they need to work on is honest, open communication without fear of vulnerability. They are not there yet but they're working in it. When they finally come forward, it will lead to a revelation of their true feelings toward you. But, it's going to take a lot of effort from them.

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 1

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PILE 2

The Hierophant

(clarified by: The Empress)

Five of Swords

(clarified by: Knight of Wands)

Five of Wands

(clarified by: The Lovers)

Two of Wands (back of the deck)

Pile 2, your person is feeling this very restless desire to move toward you. This is something that seems to be affecting everything they do. It's like no matter what they do, their attention drifts back to you. But, not really in a daydreamy sort of way. More so in the sense that this person wants to take action toward you and move out of the current place they're in. For some of you, they may actually be thinking about moving to where you are, as this could be long distance. That's how serious they are about you.

That may be pretty shocking to you. I say that because a) this feels like a situation that's in separation and that you haven't spoken to this person in a long time and b) they've never been the serious type before. I see them as this Knight of Wands figure. They could have Aries, Leo or Sagittarius placements in their chart. They are very fiery and more on the masculine side. They were either a major player when you were in their life or they were rather insensitive and self-centered. Somehow, they really hurt you. Maybe treated you like an option, maybe were very reckless with your feelings. They could have even just rejected you or not given you the time of day because they were too busy chasing after other people. This person is very attractive and charismatic and is used to love interests flocking to them. But, in the midst of all that, they failed to appreciate the one who mattered most: you.

I said all of that because I do think this person is constantly thinking back to that period when you were in their life and evaluating their mistakes. I'm hearing, "I was such an asshole". Well, I won't argue there lol. I also think that, at one point, they had a choice between you and someone else. Or something else. Maybe not necessarily a person but a lifestyle or something. Maybe they chose their immaturity and BS over you. Regardless, you walked away from them once it proved to be too much. And I think they are striving very hard to learn from these past mistakes.

There is a lot of fear they harbor over you moving on and finding someone else. Maybe you already have and they know that via word of mouth or social media. Regardless, they want to be better than your other options. Because, let's be real, YOU have plenty of options to choose from and I think this person either forgot that or didn't fully realize that. On some level, they were convinced that they were the prize. Well, I think you've effectively flipped that script on them. Because they are seeing you as The Empress: a very feminine individual who is absolutely gorgeous, from the inside out, and high-value. (You may have Taurus or Libra placements, especially Taurus). They are feeling super-attracted to you and I get the sense that you are deliberating leaning more into your Empress power and they can energetically sense that. And it's making you wildly magnetic to this person, more than ever.

Their intentions are basically to cuff you, to lock you down into a commitment. But, of course, whether or not you say yes to this is up to you. I feel like you actually wanted a real commitment with them at one point and made yourself available and they either rejected you or took you for granted or both. But, now, it's like they are on the same page now that you were then. Does that matter to you now, though? The song Too Little Too Late by Jojo is coming through. Listen to the lyrics. This may either be how you feel or what they fear you're going to tell them. However, I don't think they are willing to give this up without a fight. And they are very intent on showing you how much they want this and how much they will fight for it. How you respond is up to you.

I do think this is a very significant connection and, at one point, you saw this person as "the one". They are definitely a soulmate of some kind. Possibly even that label that rhymes with "schwin schlame", if you ascribe to that. But, just remember that these types of connections do not necessarily have to end up in union. This is more of guidance for you. Trust whatever your heart is telling you, in regards to this situation, and don't be overly attached to an outcome or a preconceived notion of your future with this person.

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 2

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PILE 3

Six of Cups

(clarified by: Two of Wands)

The Lovers

(clarified by: Queen of Pentacles)

Three of Cups

(clarified by: Ace of Swords)

King of Wands (back of the deck)

Pile 3, the energy here is so interesting. First of all, I wouldn't be surprised if you were also drawn to Pile 1. But, only check it out if you were truly drawn to it. This is another energy, though. A different person from that pile. It's a new person that you either haven't met yet or you have just recently met. If you haven't met them yet, you will very soon and I also feel as if you FEEL them already. Maybe you're having dreams about them or getting signs or confirmations. Either way, this is definitely someone a part of your soul family. You have had past lives with them and they're a soulmate. Like, a high level soulmate. They are this King of Wands figure: a very masculine individual who has healthy confidence, mature strength and is a leader. They likely have placements in Fire: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius.

Keep in mind that readings can be futuristic, on occasion, or tell us how a connection will play out in the near future. So, if you haven't met this person yet, they will feel this way about you soon after. Maybe they already do, to some extent, because they already have their eye on you or just sense you subconsciously. But, if you have recently met them, this is how they are feeling now and what their intentions are now. If neither of this situations apply, this may not be your pile. Because I am getting this new and fresh kind of energy from them. It doesn't feel like anyone from the past.

Anyway, with that in mind, their intentions are pretty simple. Powerful but simple. They just want you to be with them. This is someone who knows what they want. I say that because two songs came through just now: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys and I Wanna Get To Know You by G Unit. So, yeah, very straightforward! Lol and that will be the refreshing thing about this person. They will be that healthy masculine counterpart who knows how to go after what they want and put in effort consistently. And I get the feeling that most of you are not used to such behavior from the masculines you've been with in the past.

The Queen of Pentacles also came up in Pile 1. And this is you, regardless of if you're male or female. You are a very feminine being who has a very grounded, comforting, and abundant energy. You could have personal placements in Earth: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn. They see you in this way. They see your beauty and your value. However, they aren't just going to think this or say this. They want to SHOW you how much they value you. They want you to feel chosen and appreciated. They intend to show you that you're their top priority.

It's like they have always known you existed and always knew you were out there. Like their heart was holding out for someone like you, throughout all their disappointing romantic experiences, and that belief in love kept them going. For a select number of you, this is someone you knew while growing up or in high school or college who you are reconnecting with. And maybe you didn't see each other in a romantic light then but you can see it now. Kind of like Simba and Nala in The Lion King. Something about lions or Africa could be significant. One or both of you could have Leo energy or be of African descent. I am also getting that this could have been a friend or a sibling in a past life that you're coming together with romantically in this life. Don't let the latter possibility freak you out. Relationships can shift like that on the soul's journey.

Also, this person is a lot of fun. They may see you as a blast, too, and want to be very social with you. I can really see you on their arm at social events. This person is very attractive, very charming and they have lots of admirers, platonically and romantically. And they are going to want to show you off because they see you as an equal match. I also think they know that people will love you and will find you as funny and smart and fascinating as they do. You will meet a lot of new people through this individual.

In my reading in Your Future Romantic Partner, there was a pile about you being with someone in the public eye, in some capacity. If you picked that pile, this is probably that person. They really have that it factor! And, in terms of their relationship with you, they really want to be the best partner they can be for you. This will be a very harmonious and fulfilling union, if you choose it. That doesn't mean it will be perfect or that they're perfect, though. And things going so well may trigger your "flight response" because you're so used to being let down. You're not used to being appreciated this much and treated this well. But, you deserve it! So, don't run from it. If those fears or insecurities rise up, just deal with them and let them go. You don't want to miss out in something great just because it's foreign territory. (Speaking of which, they also may be of a different nationality than you or live in another country and have a different accent than you)

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 3

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PILE 4

Ten of Wands

(clarified by: Nine of Pentacles)

Nine of Wands

(clarified by: Ace of Swords)

Five of Cups

(clarified by: Judgement)

Eight of Pentacles (back of the deck)

Pile 4, it feels like your person is hanging on by a thread. They are going through a highly stressful time and it feels like much of this stressed is self-induced. They have been putting way too much on their plate and they are reaching a point of burnout. This is someone who is a hard worker, to the point of being a workaholic, and they are learning that they can't just bury themselves in work to avoid their problems. Because, you know, that only makes your problems worse. And I think they have done this in order to avoid thinking about you, even though they have strong feelings for you.

Something happened here that made you guys fall out of touch. Maybe you had a falling out or you just lost touch. I feel like there was some sort of big misunderstanding that caused this or there was a sense that things that were left unsaid. It's really interesting because the energy here is kind of... vague. I think this is maybe someone who never expressed their feelings or romantic interest to you whatsoever. And for a long time, you had no idea that they felt that way toward you. Maybe until you chose this pile lol. Or probably sometime recently. You might have learned it from another Tarot reading or just a sudden epiphany/download. Take it as it resonates. But, when I am doing these readings, I usually get a sense of the "story" involved. Here, it doesn't feel like that because I think you spent a lot of time very unaware of this person's feelings for you and how that was driving their actions and decisions.

So, yeah, this definitely feels like a former friend or co-worker who was a secret admirer. For most of you, they're not in your life anymore. And if they are, you are at a distance and not really communicating. But, either way, they really want that line of communication to open again. And they also have this strong desire to be with you. Or, at least, to confess their feelings to you. It is this burden that is weighing on them very heavily. That is actually a part of their stress. They aren't able to get those feelings off their chest and that's very burdensome. They are looking at you as the Nine of Pentacles, so you may have Earth placements (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) in your chart. (A very Earthy reading today) They are kind of putting you on a pedestal and idealizing you as this really beautiful, really valuable being that they want but can't have.

Something about pursuing you would have been "wrong", in their mind. For many of you, this is someone who is married or in a serious relationship. It also could have been a co-worker or someone at your job who didn't want to cross professional lines with you. But, whatever the case, they really regret not going for it. If they're with someone else, I don't think it's a happy situation. In fact, I think it's very codependent and a public show of happiness instead of something genuine. They definitely could be one of those couples who are always posting pics together on Instagram but are actually disconnected and miserable together in real life. But, it's all a part of this image of a perfectly successful life this person has always strived for. And they are starting to see how hollow that can be.

So, I am not getting a lot about intentions toward you. Like, yes, they want you but they are not ready to do anything any time soon. They have a lot they need to release to do so. I think this person will undergo some massive shifts in the near future, whether that's totally changing careers or leaving their current partner. They are in resistance mode still, though, too afraid of change. I am hearing Let It Happen by Tame Impala. They need to just let go and stop trying to control everything in their life. They have all these preconceived notions about the life that they "should" be leading and that has always hele them back.

They are also thinking frequently about you because they admire how you live your life. While they seem like the codependent type in relationships, you are much more independent. You also don't care much about others' approval in the way that they do. They would love some of that to rub off on them. Even though they want to be with you, a part of them also wants to be you. Like I said, the energy here is very different. I can't even gauge much about how you feel about them because I just don't think this is something at the forefront of your mind. But, maybe it will take you by surprise. Sometimes, great connections can happen out of the blue with the people we least expect.

What will happen the next time you see this person? Join me on Patreon in the extended reading to find out

EXTENDED READING FOR PILE 4

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Thanks for stopping by! You can check out my other readings and posts here:

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[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | four

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)

Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...

It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.

She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.

Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.

She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.

She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.

Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.

His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.

"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."

Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."

Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.

So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.

But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.

"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."

Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"

And then silence fell.

Why had she helped them?

She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.

Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.

"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."

My father.

When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?

Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.

He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.

"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”

"Well, don't tell me."

Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?

Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.

But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?

And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"

There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.

"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."

"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.

"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."

"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."

Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.

"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."

Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.

With that mask she had learned to wear.

Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.

They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.

"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"

"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."

And they fell silent again.

The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.

She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.

"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."

"Yes, unfortunately."

"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."

"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."

"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"

“Elain and Nesta.”

"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."

Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.

"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."

And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.

Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.

He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.

"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."

Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.

"I didn't ask for this, princess."

Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.

"Great, neither did I."

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd

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[kinardscoffee]

Does anyone else think that Tommy rehearsed what he wanted to say to Buck in the drive over to his loft?

Cause when Buck opens the door, Tommy seems a bit lost in thought to me. He's looking down at the floor. Telling himself that he's Tommy Kinard and he didn't do anything wrong but Eddie told him that something about Buck just seemed off lately and he feels bad because Buck loves the people in his life to the fucking extreme. He'd easily take a bullet for any of them, and he's even put himself in that position multiple times.

So, Tommy decides to stop by Buck's place before he has to go on shift because there's no way he can focus at work knowing Buck feels excluded.

And he has no idea what to say? "Sorry I stole your best friend and his son. I just wanted to feel a millisecond of that happiness you experience on the daily."

He expects to show up, apologize, and explain that he's not a threat and never would or could be.

And it's flowing. The conversation.

Tommy tells Buck that he just wanted to be part of that family atmosphere that the 118 have. Because that's the root of it, isn't it? To be around people who like you for exactly who you are? No expectations.

Tommy has never had that before.

Sure, the people at work include him, but it's a different type of inclusion. He doesn't know the names of their family members, he doesn't sit down with them for "family dinner" like Bobby does.

They are just coworkers. Nothing more.

But those four individuals that asked for his help that night?

They didn't hesitate once to save Bobby and his wife. No questions asked, no confirmation needed. All because someone didn't answer their phone.

Tommy can't help but feel a warm magnetism between them. A silent confirmation that, no matter what, they will always have each other's back at any given time.

And the people THEY love... they're included under that umbrella of certainty and that's where Tommy thinks he fucked up.

Because Buck is under everyone's umbrella.

So, he's honest. Tommy doesn't know how not to be. He tells Buck he was jealous of all those things, and maybe that played a part in how situations unfolded, but that was never directed at Buck.

And then...

Wait.

Buck tells Tommy that he asked for the tour because he wanted to get to know him. Tommy. Buck explains that this whole thing hasn't been him trying to win back his found family, but join them in including Tommy within their unit.

"... 'cause trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting."

That's the jump start to Tommy's brain.

His attention? His?

"My attention?"

All this time, Tommy has been making the first move in the name of camaraderie. He invited Eddie to the fight. He invited him to trivia night.

But Buck was just trying to simply get Tommy to fucking look at him.

And now, in Buck's apartment, listening to Buck rambling about how he's not as cool as Eddie and how he understands why Tommy would prefer to hang out with Eddie...

Tommy sees him.

He acts on that magnetism he's felt from Buck since that first night. He thought, after speaking with Eddie, that it was full of resentment, but now, as he presses their lips together, Tommy thinks that, maybe, this could be something.

And he's ready to try.

#i don't really know what this is? #i had a thought and now we're here #911 abc #911 fandom #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley #help me

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #fetishization of disability

[shippyo]

@kirbyoctournament

Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....

Personality

She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.

Powers

Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.

She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.

Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.

Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.

And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.

Canon characters she knows or knows that exist

Morpho

Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"

Necrodeus

"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"

The void

A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.

Lore

[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]

Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.

Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...

At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.

Life had died.

Or was it really like that?

Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?

Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?

But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories

" know you."

"But who were you?"

"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"

"Now, what are we?"

They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.

And it didn't matter anymore.

A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.

Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.

until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.

Nothing had meaning other than existing.

Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.

From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.

And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.

It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.

But there was no escape, no being could escape it.

After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.

#kirby oc #shippysillyart #fanart #kirby #kirbyoctournament #kirby art #necrodeus #morpho knight #zero #void termina #the void #kirby fanart #life oc #kirby oc (life)

[starseungs]

a dream and a dance. hjs.

han jisung x gn!reader — dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid. but maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.

genre/s — fluff, pinch of angst, post-grad au(?) • 2.0k words

warning/s — alcohol, setting is in a nightclub, life is hard (idk how to explain this)

note — inspired by han's new skz-record: 1,2,3,4,5 ! also i know nothing about nightclubs but this was the theme that came to mind so im just basing off vibes 😭

Dream while you’re still young—while you still can.

Growing up, that line had always been an integral part of your life. You still remember the first time you heard it; the soft hushes of your beloved grandmother as she handed you a bowl of freshly cut fruit on a particularly hot day. The six-year-old you once were was staring at the person behind the television, starry-eyed, as you studied the figure’s actions with intent. You could faintly recall a question being asked in that hushed living room, something along the lines of whether or not you found what they were doing interesting. It was a hazy memory for detailed descriptions, but you could imagine your younger self positively replying with an excited squeal, one fit for a child of that age, which would’ve been followed by the line that you’d have kept in your heart for the rest of your life.

As one would, you’ve cycled through your fair share of these so-called dreams in the duration of your early lifetime. There was a time in third grade where you made up your mind to become a science teacher—the thought quickly being replaced just a mere two years later when you found a sudden interest in becoming a chef. Sixth grade you talked big for their age, claiming that they would open their own restaurant after graduating culinary school, despite not knowing a single thing about cooking other than all the hours spent bingeing MasterChef. You would always get a laugh out of the memory, knowing that it, too, was but a short-lived dream of a young mind still easily impressed by the world around them.

The pattern of switching life aspirations continued past elementary, and throughout your hectic high school years. With the constant new experiences you faced day to day, it was inevitable that eventually you would start seeing everything in a different light. It was part of the maturing process, you’d come to realize a few years later—getting hit by the epiphany that you no longer went through your 24-hour cycle the same way you did back when you were ten. It was a bittersweet revelation, one that ended with you looking up old shows you used to watch and playing episodes until the sunrise before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready for class. 

That wasn’t the first time you pulled an all-nighter, but it was the first one that made you feel calm throughout the day despite severely lacking sleep. 

College came around, and now you had to face yet another hurdle in your journey: admitting that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing anymore. You were attending university—check. You were in a program you personally chose—check. You had a decent social life—check; or maybe half a point, since you didn’t exactly have much time to hang out with any of them, instead opting for promises of catching up that were slowly building in number but barely decreasing. Before you knew it, the degree life was slowly eating all of the dreams that were left inside of you, leaving you with a semi-paved path completely devoid of color. What was once a garden littered with numerous flowers of the rainbow now had wilted into dehydrated brownish hues, layed lifelessly beside the narrow road.

Perhaps your grandmother was right. Dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid.

Still, you pushed through, just to see the end. There was no use turning back when you had already crawled your way up this high. All that was left for you if you did was a fall so hard that you doubt you’d even be able to recover. The image alone made you shiver, prompting you to lift the glass of liquor towards your mouth, letting the sip travel down your throat and feeling the faux warmth it provided. Your eyes shifted to the clock propped up against the bar counter’s wall, watching the hands tick at a uniform pace. It was weird knowing that time always stayed steady. These days, it seemed all over the place—sometimes slowing, sometimes speeding. At this particular moment, it was like a flowing stream. 

What kind of pace it was, you weren’t too sure. 

What you did know, though, was that the numbers on the clock were barely visible; bright neon LED lights being the only thing illuminating the dark room they called a nightclub. The speakers were blasting some upbeat pop song, entertaining the crowd trying to lose themselves on the dance floor. You could only watch from your bar stool as a girl trips over thin air, obviously a little too inebriated, before getting caught by her friend, who was now fussing over her drunken state. 

Burning liquid passed your tongue as you took another sip of your drink. Unlike that girl, you went to this place alone and on your own accord. In your mind, you contemplated why you chose to be here instead of a peaceful bar that didn’t involve a DJ and a dancefloor—but this works too. Maybe a part of you wanted to experience the thrill one last time before adult life completely takes a toll on you, so who were you to deprive yourself of the wish? Your university days had already ended just a few hours ago, with you stepping on stage to get your diploma. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself have fun after all the sacrifices you made for the sake of your damned future. 

And so you continued to watch—getting lost in the sea of bright lights and the crashing waves of your thoughts, before a familiar voice snapped you out of the trance you put yourself in.

“What are you doing here, looking all miserable like that?”

You blinked owlishly at the face that entered your line of sight. A face that was very recognizable to you, despite the undoubtedly long time you’ve gone without seeing it.

“Han Jisung?”

“The one and only,” Jisung grins. 

“Wow,” you breathed out, completely taken aback at the situation. “I haven’t seen you since our first year of uni! How have you been?”

You and Jisung used to be in the same major before he dropped out right before the start of your second year to pursue music. It would be an absolute lie if you said you didn’t miss him, especially since he was the first friend you ever made in university. You could still recall the moment he approached you in a class like it was yesterday—the Jisung of four years ago scrambling to take a seat after barely just beating the professor entering through the front door. The image of the freshly turned nineteen-year-old panting desperately evoked your concern, causing you to stare at him a little longer than necessary. But it wouldn’t be Jisung if he wasn’t observant, so he returned the stare without an ounce of shame and followed with a question if you had any spare water he could drink.

Luckily, your water bottle had just been filled a few minutes before class started, and thus a beautiful friendship was born.

Jisung took his hands out of his pockets before taking a seat at the empty bar stool to your right. “Life’s been great! Two semesters were enough for me to realize that the academic life just wasn’t for me,” he chuckles. “Oh, and congrats on graduating, by the way!”

You couldn’t help the small smile that found its way to your face at his greeting. “You knew?”

“Ah,” Jisung exclaims, leaning forward to rest his arms on the long table in front while still making eye contact to cement his presence in the conversation. “I attended the ceremony earlier, actually. You know—for Hyunjin and Seungmin. I also watched you stand on stage. That’s why I’m genuinely surprised to see you here like this.”

He looks around for a bit before returning to face you. “Where are your friends?”

You shrugged carelessly, not too bothered with the implication. “Not a clue,” you say with a light chuckle. “Probably out celebrating with their families—or maybe even with each other. Either way, I didn’t get an invite, but I already expected that.”

Jisung simply nods at your reply, and his lack of a reaction amused you more than it should. “And you? Out with Thing 1 and Thing 2?”

“Damn, they still call Seungmin and Hyunjin that? My legacy stood strong, huh?” Jisung barked out a hearty laugh before gesturing somewhere to the side of the club. “But yeah, our group’s over there in one of the sofa cubicles. You can join us if you want; it’s your day too, after all. We should be celebrating!”

You waved his offer away politely. “It’s fine, Jisung. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me crashing in. We’re not even close enough to do that.”

Jisung paused to think for a moment, his hand rising up to support his chin. Your eyes guiltily wander a bit higher, stopping at his rosy lips for a brief second before quickly going back to glare at your glass of liquor. 

Admittedly, you once had a crush on the man beside you. Han Jisung was one of the more attractive individuals on campus back then, along with the rest of his friend group. The lingering gazes of people weren’t foreign to you, as you had your fair share of experiences with them when you used to hang out with him. Jisung was simply someone who caught others’ attention, whether it was intentional or not. Of course, you weren’t exempt from that notion. The only difference was that he was a good friend you didn't want to risk losing and that you weren’t interested in dating at that moment. Romance was another dream of yours you couldn’t reach, no matter how much you yearned for it. And so you buried your feelings in a grave, eventually getting forgotten once he left your life.

You could only hope that a zombie apocalypse doesn’t start soon.

“Hm, alright,” he eventually chimes. “I’ll leave you be, soon. But, on one condition.” It was your turn to ponder over his words. 

“And what’s your condition, Han?”

Jisung attempts to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers, which you painfully caught on to too fast for your liking. He took a few more seconds to collect himself before sitting up straight and turning towards you to shyly say, “Dance with me?”

Your eyes widened into saucers, not believing what you had just heard. It was in an attempt to calm your racing heart that you accidentally froze into silence, your brain already deciding to keep 911 on standby in case you stopped breathing altogether. You internally cursed yourself for feeling a faint hope spark back in your heart, wishing for the romance you never let yourself indulge in. This wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, that you thought was appropriate to rekindle your teenage wishes. 

Unfortunately, your lack of a response made Jisung inhale audibly, seemingly preparing himself to bolt away in embarrassment—if only you hadn’t noticed his actions too, the year of friendship coming back to you to recognize his habit. You quickly willed yourself to spit out any words you could.

"Well, that’s sudden,” you shakily voiced out, but decided to lighten the awkward situation with a cough. “What, think I’m hot now after gaining a few more years?”

Jisung exhaled in relief. “Not exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, “you were already hot from the beginning.” You roll your eyes at his answer.

“Haha. You think you’re so hilarious, Jisung.”

“That, I do,” he smirks, regaining his confidence. Jisung lifts a hand towards you, opening his palm in an offering gesture. “So, what about that dance?”

You scoffed good-naturedly before taking his hand, pulling him up his seat to drag the two of you towards the center of the establishment that was still as chaotic as you left it earlier.

“Make sure you show me a good time, Jisung.”

“Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Y/N.”

Maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix

#starseungs-library #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #han imagines #han jisung imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #han fanfic #han jisung fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #han fanfiction #han jisung fanfiction #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #han fluff #han jisung fluff #stray kids #skz #han #han jisung

[danisbrainrot]

tell your boyfriend

natalie scatorccio x reader

warnings: cheating (sorry not sorry, travis), reader being a shitty person, angst

ever since I found out this song was actually about a woman, I don't know why, but I immediately thought of nat. I can't explain it LMFAO.

it had been weeks since the plane crashed, and the team was condemned to suffering in the wilderness. it was lucky lottie had found the cabin in the first place, but as you swung the axe high in the air, before bringing it down with a resounding crack, you started to wonder if life would've been better if you died in the crash.

you were starving, delirious and weak. there was no sign of a rescue team—who knows how long you'd have to spend out here. watching natalie and travis walking back, hand in hand, you felt yourself growl quietly to yourself. it wasn't fair that travis, who'd never talked to nat before the crash was dating her, but you—who'd loved her for years—were forced to watch from arms length. the sight wasn't made any better when you noticed the absence of meat.

everyone was teasing the two of them, causing you to storm off into the forest. you couldn't help but find everything unfair. falling for a girl who liked a boy—knowing if you were a boy, she'd love you.

kicking over a pile of leaves, you took out your anger on the forest. you hadn't even noticed natalie, until you almost pegged a rock at her (you'd meant to get the log). "oh my god, I'm sorry nat," you exclaimed, running towards her to see if she was okay.

she snorts, moving closer to you. "feeling hangry?" she teased, taking a seat on the log you were aiming at previously. you sarcastically laugh in response, taking a seat next to her.

"joke all you want, if you spent less time fucking travis and more time looking for animals, I wouldn't be destroying the forest," you snap, feeling your stomach begin growling. nat's eyebrow raised teasingly, eyes pointed at your tummy. it's timing was uncanny.

"we're not fucking," natalie replied, making your heart race in excitement. "I mean, I'd like to. . . but he can't get it up."

knowing this was your chance, you took advantage of this information. "maybe he's gay?" you reply, trying to sound as earnest as you can. you nudge her side, "no straight man could resist you," you wink at her teasingly, receiving a soft shove to your shoulder.

"I've always trusted your gaydar. . . but I don't think this is it," she mumbles in response, leaning forward and placing her chin in her hands.

there was a beat of silence, as you desperately try to come up with a plausible explanation to break them up. "you could always ask coach, I'm sure he'd know all about gays," you joke.

nat turned her head slightly to face you, "you're right. maybe I should—" your heart sank, realising that she was seriously thinking about it.

"have you thought that maybe he's interested in someone else? and you're just a distraction," you blurted out, wishing you could take it back immediately.

nat scoffed, standing up, "yeah, thanks. that makes me feel fucking fantastic," she snapped, stomping away.

"nat! I'm sorry!" you called out, but she ignored you.

«—(♥)—»

later that night, you found yourself in the storage room, with your stomach growling. you knew that mari was hiding some berries in here and you were so hungry that you no longer cared about stealing.

the sound of creaking behind you made you jump in fright, whipping around to let out some excuse when you realised it was just natalie. "oh, I thought you were mari," you mumble, turning back to continue your quest.

"looking for her secret stash?" she asked, you tried to work out if her tone was curious or teasing. "it's behind the box there."

when she pointed in the direction, you side eyed her, wondering how he knew where it was. glad that she'd shown you, you decided not to ask. you pulled out a large white bucket and hungrily opened the lid, only to be disappointed at the contents. "she's letting them ferment?"

you turn to face natalie, who shrugs, "it's not that bad. it's pretty strong though, just made purely out of berries, makes you get drunk quicker," she explains; you snort at her, shaking your head.

"you'd have a lot of experience with being drunk," you snipe.

"hilarious, you know you're so funny, you should think about joining snl," she replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

you sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I'm so hungry, nat. I can't keep living like this," you whisper, on the verge of tears.

natalie sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "it'll be okay, I promise. travis and I are heading to a new place tomorrow, we'll find deer there, I'm sure," she soothes. you lay your head on her shoulder, playing with her hand on your thigh.

"a new place to hunt? or a new place to fuck?" you snapped.

narrowing her eyes at you, she scoffed and got up, "you know, I liked that you weren't like the others, that you never slutshamed me. . . I guess you're just like the rest of them," she replied, leaving you alone.

you knew it was stupid to take your unrequited feelings out on her, especially because she didn't owe you romantic love. however, it killed you watching her fall in love with travis—and the hunger eating you away wasn't making you a nicer person either.

tentatively scooping some of the berry juice in your hand, sipping it, when you heard mari approaching. in a panic, you'd never put something away so quickly.

«—(♥)—»

natalie trudged through the forest with travis in defeat; the gun slung over her shoulder serving as a reminder of her duty as hunter—a duty she was failing. their eyes were still peeled for any deer, hopeful for any last minute catches. however, it seemed like all the animals in the forest knew about their plans.

groaning, nat put her head in her hands and sat on the log. "this is fucking stupid," she grumbles, ignoring travis as he took a seat next to her.

"maybe we should stay put here, just for a little while," he suggests, his thigh brushing against hers. nat rested her chin against her knees and offered him a weak smile.

neither of them noticed you, hiding in the bushes, having given up scavenging for berries. they'd been gone for three hours, leaving everyone else in the cabin to search for food—and for what? it seemed no one would be eating anything. . . meat or fruit. the disappointing view of just the two of them made your stomach growl, reminding you of how long you've gone without eating something substantial.

stepping on a twig accidentally, you winced as both their heads snap in your direction. "you're following us now? disappointed to see we aren't having sex?" natalie sniped, getting up and walking towards you.

showing off your basket, you know that she wouldn't believe you even if it's true. "just hunting for berries, figured they were further out than usual," you mumble, taking a step back the closer she got.

it wasn't until you were both face to face, your chest heaving and trying to look tough, that natalie smirked. "I get it, you're hungry, but you don't have to follow us," she teased.

you rolled your eyes, "travis, can you give us a moment?" you asked, your heart racing as you come to terms with what you're about to do.

travis scoffs, looking at nat for confirmation, who only gestured for him to return to the cabin. in shock, he sent her an odd look, before standing up, and walking away silently.

natalie turned to face you again, "what did you want to talk about?"

"i wanted to apologise. you're right, I shouldn't be slutshaming you because I'm hungry. . ." you pause, wondering whether or not you should continue. desperate to tell her about your feelings, you could feel your heartbeat raising impossibly fast. "it's actually so stupid—the real reason I was mad at you."

natalie raised her eyebrows teasingly, placing her hands on her waist and smirking at you. "let me guess, the real reason is that you like me?" you stare at her stunned, "please, you don't think I know? I'm not Jackie," she laughs. you feel a blush coming across your cheeks.

sliding her thumb through your jean loops, nat pulled you closer to her, until your chest was pressed against hers. "how'd you find out?" you whisper, looking up at her in awe.

"because I may or may not feel the same about you," she mumbles, her lips inches from yours.

"what about travis?" you ask; nat shrugs in response, finally pressing her lips against yours. initially, you freeze, not kissing her back, until she gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place, encouraging you to kiss her back passionately.

wrapping your hands around her neck, natalie pulls away for a second, "I should probably tell my boyfriend," she whispers. you raise your eyebrows in shock.

"tell him what? that I'm your girlfriend now?" you teased, eliciting laughter from the blonde. she nodded, before placing her fingers under your chin and pulling you in for another kiss.

#natalie scatorccio #natalie x reader #wlw #yellowjackets #fanfic #fluff #travis martinez #oneshot #inspired by #tell ur girlfriend #yellowjackets showtime #travis yellowjackets #tw: cheating #natalie scatorccio x reader

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Typical Day for a Mall Cop

My name's Bill, and I've been a guard at the mall for almost a decade now. It wasn't my dream job, but life has a way of creeping up on you with kids and a mortgage. I needed something to pay the bills, and I've always had a knack for watching over people.

Like any other weekend, the mall is fairly busy, so I stay on my feet and patrol the halls for most of the day. Occasionally, I'll check in with the other mall cop, but my time is mostly filled with watching shoppers come and go. If anybody gets too rowdy, a stern look is enough to keep them in line.

A lot of the time, teenagers will loiter in stores. Some of them even try and bring their skateboards in, but it isn't too hard to make them adhere to the mall's strict policies. They might be young and clueless, but that doesn't mean I'll cut them any breaks.

Over by the fountain, I see one of the boys I admonished a week ago. I think I caught him shoplifting or something. Thieves normally get banned from the mall, but I didn't do that with this one. He said something that completely caught me off guard; he said he could hypnotize me.

I laughed in his face.

Amused inwardly by the boy's foolish claim, I walk over to check in with him. I'm sure he'll remember the security guard that almost kicked him out of the mall last weekend.

The kid is chatting with his friends, but they fall quiet when they notice me looming behind them. Like we'd discussed last week, I drop to my knees and kneel in front of the troublemaker. He explained that this is the best thing for me to do when I see him around, and I can't help but agree. I know the boy deserves my respect.

I plant a kiss on both of his sneakers, and then wait for him to speak first. It takes a minute because he and his friends are busy cracking up over some unspoken joke. Whatever it is, clearly went right over my head.

"How you doin', mall pig?" the boy laughs.

I smirk at the nickname he's given me. We've gotten in the habit of calling each other by these pseudonyms, and I don't mind it.

"Very good, sir," I answer, using the name I've come to associate him with, "How are you?"

"Fine, I guess," he shrugs, "I spent your cash on kicks for my crew."

That reminds me of last week again. The boy had made it seem like a good idea to give him all the money I had, which included the paycheck I'd earned for last pay period. On the ground, I had a close view of all the vibrant sneakers the teenagers were wearing. It was nice to know he'd put my gift to good use, even if my wife had been pissed that I'd come home without my month's salary.

"You have another check for me, fat ass?"

His friends laugh at his new nickname for me, but I shake my head and answer a solemn, "No, sir."

The teenager groans and leads his gang of friends away, already bored with me. It seems like he's just going to leave me there, kneeling in the middle of the mall, until he turns and beckons me to follow. Inwardly, I'm glad that he's not done with me yet. I've come to enjoy our interactions a lot.

I follow the boys, crawling behind them all the way into a bathroom.

"If you ain't got any cash to keep me and my crew entertained, then you're gonna have to do something to make us laugh," he explains.

"Of course, sir!" I smile, trying to express how willing I am to impress him and his friends.

"We'd find it hilarious if you dunked your head in each toilet," he adds blandly.

I light up. He's just explained how I can be of service and now all I have to do is follow through. I'm sure it'd be hilarious for them to watch a fully grown security guard giving himself a few swirlies. That's peak comedy!

"Watch this, sir!" I laugh, crawling over to the first toilet and shoving my face into the water without any hesitation.

I know the guy that's supposed to clean these bathrooms, and it's obvious he slacks off because there are skid marks all over. I try not to think about it as my cheeks and forehead brush against the bottom of the bowl. When I pull my face out of the flushing toilet, my ears pop and hear a roar of laughter behind me. The kids find it hilarious, which only fuels my desire to keep going.

With a gaping grin, I shuffle over to the next stall and repeat. There are six toilets in the men's restroom. Some are cleaner than others. The last one is a clogged mess, and the boys find it hilarious when I come up with toilet paper plastered to my face. I laugh through it all, even if the urge to puke is growing.

By the time I'm done, I'm soaked in toilet water, and the teenagers are in tears.

"Alright, toilet guy. That was disgusting," the leader of the pack chuckles, grimacing in my direction, "You have a car or something?"

"Yes, sir. I've got a minivan in the parking lot."

"A minivan?" he seems disappointed, "Hand over the keys anyway. We wanna drive around."

"You got it, sir," I say, fishing the fob out of my damp pockets.

He swipes the keys out of my hand eagerly and turns to leave the bathroom. I start to follow the boys out, but he stops me.

"Why don't you stay in here 'till you dry off," he snorts, "You can spend that time in the corner, thinking about what you can do for me next time I'm at the mall."

"Yes, sir," answer, and the boys leave.

Briefly, the thought of getting back to work crosses my mind. I really should be out there keeping an eye on the vendors and their merchandise, but that goes away. Like suggested, I stare at the dirty tile wall and begin to brainstorm what I can do for the boy the next time I see him.

My walkie goes off now and then with the voice of my coworker wondering where I am, but I ignore it.

After an hour or so, I've dripped mostly dry, but a strong stink still lingers around my head. Still, I've come up with a few different things I could have ready next week. It'll take some overtime to make extra cash for the boy. My wife won't be happy about that, but it'll give me a chance to actually have cash ready for him when he asks for it.

The only other thing I have to offer is the perks of my job. Maybe his friends and him would like a tour of the security office? I'd give them free reign of everything in the confiscated bin.

Speaking of my job, I should probably get back. My partner is probably angry at me for not answering the radio. He'll be happy when I tell him I'll take the late shift for the next few days. Hopefully he won't say anything about the smell. God, it's awful!

Just another day working as a mall cop!

#hypno story #mind control #hypnotized