#nonsensical thoughts to find their own happiness

[jemmo]

Making sense of love for love's sake: the game

Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:

'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'

And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".

When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.

And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.

And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:

"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."

Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.

"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."

And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.

"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."

And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.

And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.

And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.

The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.

#wow look at me writing actual kinda thought out meta #also something something about how the pen being in his pocket wasnt a pen given to him by the author its a pen that was his the whole time #look even if this isnt the right interpretation as intended by the author i just kinda adore this headcanon ive come up with and i cant wai #to rewatch the show again through this lens and see if it holds up #i just adore the idea of this whole thing being this manifestation of a flawed doubtful person trying to navigate through their own messy #nonsensical thoughts to find their own happiness #bc yes thats what triggered me thinking of this whole thing. me seeing that post and thinking yeah that doesnt make sense7 #but then again when you tell yourself things an put your own mental blocks in the way they dont make sense either but you still have to fin #the ways to work around them in order to find happiness #like those things dont go away we just find the loopholes or the ways to overcome them that mean we can be happy #the game is your own mind - deal with your own existential crisis as you wish #anyway this is only part 1 in what i hope will be a very extensive meta analysis of this show - stay tuned #love for love's sake

[exuvianen]

dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!

headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3

cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style

notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well. 

wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!

feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated  <3

✎ Dr. Ratio:

He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next. 

He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you. 

He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water. 

He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth. 

He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved? 

He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.

He makes a custom alabaster head for you. 

♤ Aventurine:

A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.

If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers. 

He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.

He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head. 

He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.

He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply. 

He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you. 

☠︎︎ Blade:

If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.

He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.

He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.

Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.

He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.

He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*

He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.

If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of. 

As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.

* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out. 

#exuvia works #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #dr.ratio x reader #hsr headcanons #blade x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr blade #hsr aventurine #hsr dr.ratio #ratio x reader #veritas x reader #veritas ratio x reader

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to finding you sleeping anywhere but the bed…

Dick: sharing the dog bed with Hayley (fail):

At first he thought something was wrong when he didn’t hear you or Hayley greet him home and soon began to search the spy for you both.

So the moment he finds you fast asleep on Hayley’s dog bed with Hayley tucked closely into your chest, head resting underneath your chin. His heart immeditly melted and his phone was out and taking photos nearly every 0.5 seconds, only until he was forced to stop due to how much storage they took up but he didn’t regret it.

Not one bit. He even has one printed out that he kept on him to look at whenever he felt as though he needed to be reminded of how he had waiting back home for him.

You both were effortlessly cute to Dick, he couldn’t help it but feel a little left out as he then tries to join you in the dog bed, only to almost ends up capsizing the three of you and waking both you and Hayley, who began licking his face as her tail smacks you in the arm repeatedly.

‘What were you trying to do?’ You asked Dick, sitting up.

Dick pouted. ‘Join in the fun.’

‘We were sleeping in a dog bed, how’s that fun.’ You said, not bothering to add the fact that you had accidentally fell asleep on Hayley’s dog bed because you were waiting up for him but failed.

‘Fun to me is wherever you and Hayley are.’ Dick answered truthfully.

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘You’re such a dork, you know that right.’ You told him.

‘Yes. And?’ He says cheekily, more than happy to be home with his little family.

Bruce: in the Batmobile:

Alfred told him where you were and that you best be moved to a more comfortable place then the passenger seat of the Batmobile.

How you got in there was a mystery to both men but what was more impressive was how you could possibly sleep against those hard rich leather seats in the first place.

Bruce couldn’t blow but let out a little chuckle when he opened the side door, just to see you with your face half pressed against the seats before jolting yourself awake.

‘Wha- I didn’t do nothing officer it was the dog.’ You said groggily as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes as they tried to bring reality into focus.

‘Have a good nap did we?’ Bruce asks, finding some amusement in your half asleep nonsense.

‘Why, who’s asking?’ You replied.

‘Your consciousness.’ Bruce joked sarcastically. ‘Come on let’s get you to bed before you develop a-‘

‘Ow my neck.’ You groaned as you held a hand to your neck the moment you tried to move it.

‘-Crooked neck.’ Bruce sighs as he offers you a hand. ‘Come on, let’s go find Alfred so that we can alleviate you of this pain.’ You pouted as you grabbed onto his hand and letting him pull you out of the Batmobile. ‘Alfred is going to scold me isn’t he?’ You asked. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ Bruce answered as he helps guide you out of the Batcave.

Alfred’s scoldings were nothing to scoff at, and Bruce would know as he’s been on the receiving end of a few before in the past. After all getting scolded by Alfred was enough to set a stubborn man straight.

‘Damn.’ You muttered.

Damian: in the barn, on top of Goliath:

He didn’t have to look far, he knew you’d be in the barn but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be fast asleep on top of his demonic dragon bat, whom had draped a protective wing over you as though it were swaddling you in an extremely warm blanket.

He had told you about the story of how he met Goliath and took him home on more then one occasion, as it was secretly his favourite story because it helped him with his own internal struggles on who he should be, and also how his past doesn’t define him, but what he chooses to do in the future does.

So seeing you cuddled up to Goliath without an ounce of care made him smile a little to himself at the prospect of you accepting him for who he was truly, rather than believe what other people viewed him as. You stood out of the crowd rather than follow it and Damian couldn’t be more grateful for you sticking by him, even through the extremely tough times where even he thought he went too far with his outbursts towards you.

‘Tt. Idiot.’ He says affectionately as he walks further into the barn, stopping along the way to pet BatCow and Jerry the Turkey. ‘Aren’t they?’ He asks both animals who only blinked at him as they mindlessly chewed on their food. Damian hums. ‘You’re right, they may be an idiot but they’re still my idiot at the end of the day.’

Damian ends up falling asleep against BatCow’s side as Jerry the Turkey made himself comfortable on his lap.

Jason: kitchen counter:

Him and Roy have a bet on where Jason would find you asleep next.

It had happened way too often for them that they’d hates themselves forever for not making a game out of it at any point in their lives.

This time Roy betted that you’d fall asleep on the kitchen counter, whereas Jason believes you’ll fall asleep against the window sill.

So when Jason got back home late one night after patrol, he immeditly went to look for you at the window sill. Nothing. ‘Damn it Roy.’ He cursed under his breath as he then walked into the kitchen, praying that he wouldn’t have to tell his friend that he won the bet for the eighth consecutive time.

Only for you to be fast asleep on the fucking kitchen counter, just as Roy predicted you would. Jason felt as though his friend was cheating somehow because it didn’t make sense for him to have correctly predicted where you’d be found sleeping as often as he did. Unfortunately for Jason, he couldn’t back up his claim as to why he thought Roy cheated, for there wasn’t any substantial evidence to prove that Roy was cheating.

And so with a heavy heart, Jason walked over and pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling out his phone to text Roy that he has won…again, and pocketing his phone as he carried you off to your shared room. ‘I love you chipmunk but you’ve got to start sleeping in places where I’ll surefire win the bet against Roy next time okay?’ He says against your head, kissing it.

‘Okay. I’ll try.’ You murmured.

‘That’s my baby.’ Jason said as he tucked you into bed before following suit.

The next day, Roy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat as he talked about his eighth consecutive victory, whereas Jason looked about ready to strangle the next person who looked at him funny.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce x reader #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #batman x you

[enaus]

❤︎— paper rings. (l.heeseung)

tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblog’s not just likes, so, pls reblog my work, thank you! <3

pairing: bf!heeseung x f!reader genre: established relationship, romance. warning(s): cuteness overload.

synopsis: in which your boyfriend heeseung proposes to you with a paper ring. wc: 0.688.

author's note: hi everyone,, i got inspired by taylor swift’s song paper rings off of the album lover n’ thought i’d write this. i do have my taglist open so if you want to be in it just send me a message in my inbox. as always, all feedback is welcome, just don’t be negative pls n’ remember to have a good time, happy reading everyone! 📖

“Do you ever want to get married?”

Feeling surprised and startled by the sudden question, you looked up from the small tech device you were holding in your hands, your gaze falling upon your boyfriend, Heeseung, whose head was currently laying flat against your lap.

You took this opportunity to scan your boyfriend’s features for a tell that he was joking around, and it didn’t take long till you made the startling realization that he was genuinely being sincere.

“What’s with the sudden question?” You questioned as you fixed your gaze on him and raised your eyebrows. Your eyes catching his own.

“Technically, it’s not sudden; we’ve been dating for three years. Last time we spoke about this was maybe a year ago. Isn’t the topic supposed to come up again eventually?” He asked, cocking his head so he could see your face better while leaning against your lap. His maroon colored lips that were originally straight in form, now curled into a little pout as he raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

Naturally, the topic would come up at some point, and that didn’t bother you at all. Not that you were against getting married to your boyfriend—in fact, you were all for it. Hardly a day went by where you didn't consider asking him directly as opposed to just dropping those small, subtly hinting clues whenever he was nearby.

It wasn’t like you both were in a rush to get married; it was clear that you both intended to tie the knot at some point, but you both just never really had the opportunity to discuss it in thoroughly.

“You’re right, it is. It's just that we’ve never really spoken about it since.” You spoke, your hands finding their way into his messed-up hair. The few hairs that were delicately draped across his forehead, almost completely hiding his eyes, were now brushed away by your finger tips.

“Exactly.” He mumbled and fiddled with a piece of straw wrapper, probably from the remaining takeout you two had ordered an hour prior. He mumbled a string of nonsense under his breath before letting his thoughts break the silence once again; “If I were to propose to you right now, but I don’t have a shiny ring to offer you, would you say yes?”

You giggled and softly grinned at your boyfriend laying on your lap while you continued to run your fingers through his silky locks, a mutter slipping past your lips and under your breath in contemplation, “Yes.” You nodded, your smile remaining small and sincere.

“Wait, really?”

“Of course, why would I say no?”

“I figured maybe you’d prefer something extravagant..” He laughed, grinning, “I guess I was wrong.”

“Hee, I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings. I don’t care for it to be expensive or fancy, as long as I have you, that’s all I want.” You spoke, as you watched the way his eyes soften, the reflection in them displaying a mix of love and comfort and that alone was just enough to make your heart beat even faster. The way the sparkles in his eyes resembled the stars located in the night sky, balancing beautifully with the way his eyes stared into yours.

“So, marry me.” Heeseung, who had previously been lying down, was now sitting up straight and motionless. His body facing your curled-up form on the couch, as he awaited your response.

“What?”

“Marry me.” He repeated, bringing his hands into view to match the words coming from his mouth and letting you catch a peek at the piece of paper he was toying with just a few moments ago; the straw wrapper now neatly crafted into a paper ring—the sides were twisted as a tiny little knot rest at the top to resemble a diamond.

The moment you’d been wanting for a while had finally come, and you didn’t even need to think of an answer. This was the sweetest and cutest thing anyone has ever done for you, and it might not have been perfect or super romantic, but it was to you, and that's all that mattered.

“Yes!”

enaus all rights reserved, do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #sunghoon fluff #jake fluff #jay fluff #niki fluff #jungwon fluff #sunoo fluff #sunghoon x reader #jungwon x reader #jake x reader #jay x reader #sunoo x reader #niki x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen drabbles #enhypen soft hours #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #heeseung imagines #heeseung angst #enha fluff

[rynbutt]

pierced. epilogue. | spencer reid.

It's Spencer's birthday and there are a lot of things to be shared.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content (MDNI), kissing, other stuff shhh

a/n: im pretty proud of this one fr

His kiss against your lips was feverish– it was hungry and wanting, punctuated by his warm hand desperately squeezing the skin of your thigh, the other tangled in your hair as it sprawled over your pillow like a halo. 

You were always breathtaking like this– your face contorted in pleasure as you breathed soft whines and moans, unable to form coherent words. Spencer found it fascinating, how you bewitched him body and soul. You made everything melt away with your gentle touch and your soft kisses. Maybe it was how you cradled his face like you would divine art. Maybe it was how you looked at him, eyes so sultry and enchanting yet wide with innocence.

Spencer couldn’t handle it half the time, it drove him mad how he longed for you in every aspect of his life, how he spent every waking minute away from you wishing you were wrapped in the safety of his arms, where he knew no one and nothing could harm you. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” your voice was breathless as you whispered the words against his lips. One of your hands pressed into the nape of his neck, the other gripped the wrist beside your head, holding onto anything that would ground you in reality.

Spencer responded by kissing you again, swallowing your breathless moans as he snapped his hips against the soft flesh of your ass. The sounds were lewd and salacious, but it only provoked him further. His grip on your thigh was bruising at best, his mind growing foggy with desire as he lost control of his ability to notice the obvious strength he had over you.

You didn’t mind though– you never did. It only spurred you on further, your moans and whines growing louder and louder as your belly warmed. Tonight was supposed to be about him. It was his birthday after all and you wanted him to be the centre of attention. But when you spread your legs for him, your curves adorned in delicate lace, he couldn’t help himself.

“Spence–” You cut yourself off as another whine left your dry throat; it seems you forgot how to naturally function when Spencer’s cock was splitting you open, your head filled with nonsense the moment he filled you to the brim.

“Fuck, angel–” Spencer’s voice was low with lust, his lips pressing to the underside of your jaw. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, his lips pressing desperate kisses to your smooth skin. 

Spencer never got tired of you, he knows he never will. He’s so hopelessly in love with you and you have him wrapped around your delicate finger despite what you like to think. You were wrapped around him so tight, your core pulsing around him with such desperation.

He’s surprised he lasted as long as he did. You looked so beautiful with your skin adorned with intricate lace and bows– he kept it on while he fucked you, admiring every dip and curve of your body, truly convinced every part of you was carefully crafted for him and him alone.

Your hands combed through his hair as he calmed down, your legs tangled with his and the sheets. While fucking you was his favourite pass time; this part was always worth the wait. His body was heavy with exhaustion but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were always so gentle, something he both envied and valued in you. You were safe; you were home.

“Marry me.” The words left his lips in a whisper. It bothered him how he hadn’t asked you yet– how he hadn’t even thought about it until that very moment. Spencer had always questioned the notion of marriage, wondering why people did it when– to him– it seemed outdated; almost pointless. He saw it with his own parents and he saw it with his friend, but with you it was different. Calling you his wife made him feel warm, being able to put a ring on your finger and call you his forever. He was going against his own reasoning and Spencer was willing to say his old way of thinking about marriage was wrong. Because with you, it seemed like the only reasonable choice he had ever made.

Your fingers stilled against his hair, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?” You almost thought you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Spencer spoke a little louder, his chest blooming with warmth at the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. You gently covered your mouth as a small surprised laugh left your throat, you didn’t mean to laugh, you really didn’t, but Spencer Reid– The Dr. Spencer Reid– wanted to marry you. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” he feigned offence, pulling your hand away from your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, I just–” You sighed, eyes blinking up at him softly, “You, Dr. ‘I don’t really believe in marriage’ want to marry me?”

He let out a breath. “I’ve thought about it.” He thought about it for maybe four seconds before deciding because he already knew what the answer would be, “and I want it. I didn’t think I would, but then I met you and… it just seems like the only logical progression.”

“Mm, I love when you talk about logical progressions,” you teased, your hands cupping his face gently, resting your forehead against his.

“You still haven’t answered me.” Spencer wasn’t nervous, he knew you loved him and wanted to be with him. Even if you said no, he wouldn’t mull over it because he would know that you had your own reasons. 

“What do you think the answer will be?” You were curious and it was so easy to tease him. He didn’t like when people pushed his buttons, but you could push all you like and he would adore you all the same.

“I think you’ll dance around it just to annoy me,” he started with a grin, “but inevitably you’ll say yes because the idea of getting to call yourself Mrs Reid would be too good to pass up.”

Oh how he knows you.

“Mm, you caught me,” you giggled softly, drowning in the softness of his beautiful brown eyes. You brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, “I’d love to marry you, Spencer.”

He smiled coyly. “See?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, scooting yourself closer to him to press against his warm skin. He draped an arm over your waist, pressing his nose into your hair and breathing in your scent. This is exactly how he wanted to spend his 30th birthday, with you wrapped in his arms, tracing letters into your hip as your nails gently scraped against the skin of his back, following every gentle ridge of his ribs and spine, memorising his body beneath your fingertips.

“Are you sure we have to go?” Spencer called to you as he stood in front of your full-length mirror tying his tie. The end of the day came far too quickly– one minute he had your warmth wrapped around him, your lips and bodies clashing in feverish need. Now he was getting ready to go to dinner at a new fancy restaurant deep in the city when he would much rather stay tangled with you in bed.

“Yes, baby,” You replied, lining your lips in your bathroom mirror. “Penelope and JJ want to make tonight special for you for your birthday.”

You had already made it special. You made him breakfast, spoiled him far beyond what he deserved, then let him have you for hours. His birthday was already perfect but he knew his friends had tried hard to do something nice for him– but you said yes to his marriage proposal, so he’s doubtful this dinner could at all improve his day.

You stepped out of the bathroom, clasping the necklace Spencer had got you for your birthday last year around your neck. Your heels clicked against the floor in a way that was so alluring he was ready to ditch the dinner and have you again. But you would definitely protest, not wanting him to ruin your perfectly styled hair and makeup. He would just have to hold it together for a bit longer.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, a smile playing on his lips. Your dress hugged your hips and waist, the neckline showing off your cleavage and the slit up the side to your mid thigh sending him reeling. You smiled at him, reaching for his tie to adjust it.

“You look very handsome,” you pressed up on your toes, kissing his cheek. His hands fell to your waist, holding you close as he pressed a peck to your lips. “Alright, we should go.” Spencer let out a soft sigh, holding his elbow out for you to link your arm with his. You chuckled softly, holding his bicep as the two of you left your shared apartment. 

Spencer’s fingers were laced with yours as you walked into the restaurant, walking slightly slower than he normally did since you were in heels; something you found rather adorable. Derek saw him first, wrapping his arms around Spencer and patting his back as he wished him a happy birthday. Derek planted a kiss on your cheek as he hugged you next, letting the rest of the team swarm Spencer with hugs, birthday wishes and presents. Spencer pulled your chair out for you before sitting down next to you, scooting his chair slightly closer to yours. He had his hand on your thigh the whole night, his thumb stroking the side of your knee. 

“More drinks! This is a day to celebrate!” Penelope cheered, pouring herself and JJ another glass of wine. Derek swirled his tumbler of whiskey around, lifting it up in a cheers motion to Spencer.

“Amen to that,” he nodded before taking a sip.

“What are you having, Reid? On me,” Emily offered, eyes narrowing at the man of the hour. Spencer waved her off, not typically one for drinking.

“Give mine to Y/N, I’m good,” Spencer said. 

“No, no, I’m good, Spence,” you squeezed his hand under the table. 

“Whaaat!” Penelope looked at you, stopping mid-sip of wine. “My loves, we must celebrate!” She pointed at the both of you and Spencer rolled his eyes playfully.

“Fine, but nothing too strong, please,” Spencer gave in, earning a cheer from everyone at the table. 

Emily turned to you, “what’s my girl having? Gin and tonic? Spiced rum? Wine? Name it and you’ve got it,” she grinned.

“No, I’m really good, thank you,” you replied with a breathy laugh, desperate to get the attention off of you. Emily noticed your slight embarrassment and backed off, getting up to get Spencer a drink from the bar. 

You quietly excused yourself, getting up and taking your purse to the bathroom. Spencer could tell something was bothering you. He excused himself to Hotch, following you to the back of the restaurant. He gently knocked on the bathroom door, calling your name. You washed your hands in the sink, letting out a sigh before opening the door.

“Are you okay, angel?” Spencer asked, voice laced with concern. He searched your eyes for a moment and he could tell something was on your mind.

“I’m pregnant, Spence.”

Spencer felt his mind go blank, his eyes widening at your confession. You didn’t sound upset when you said it, nor did you sound thrilled. You wanted to gauge his reaction before you started tangling yourself up in your own thoughts. 

After a year of dating, Spencer had mentioned the idea of kids to you, asking you if it’s something you wanted. You knew he wanted it, he was so good with kids and kids gravitated to him. It made your heart swell whenever he would play with Henry or Jack, wondering if that’s something you wanted for yourself. You wanted to give him that, of course you did. But when he asked you, you had just got a promotion and you were about to begin your second semester back at school and Spencer’s job was crazy, it didn’t seem like adequate timing. So you told him one day.

One day was apparently today.

“You’re… You’re pregnant?” He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as the words sank in. His heart fluttered at the idea of you carrying his baby, a little boy or girl, he didn’t care. You were going to have his baby. He was going to be a family with you.

“Yeah, I am,” a smile tugged at your lips. “I wanted to tell you in a more… creative way? Like hide it in a book or give you a crossword or something but–” You cut yourself off, gently shrugging your shoulders as Spencer reached for your hands.

“How–How far along are you?” His voice was shaky, he was so nervous and excited and had no idea where to put all the emotions he was feeling.

“Eight weeks,” you grinned.

“Shit,” he cursed, a smile breaking out across his face. He pulled you in for a kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks. You held his suit jacket in your fists, kissing him back with just as much excitement and love. He pulled away slightly, “this is by far the best birthday present.”

You chuckled softly, “lucky her parents are hitched,” you teased.

“You know you can’t actually tell the sex of a foetus until 18 to 21 weeks, baby,” he said matter-of-factly. He gestured his head to the side, “it’s possible as early as 14 weeks but–”

You kissed him again to shut him up, “call it a mother’s intuition, Spence." Spencer led you back to the table, refusing to let go of your hand for the rest of the night. He had a lot of trouble sitting on all the news he had to share but he would tell them another time, all he wanted to do was spend the night with you and enjoy every waking minute of you.

a/n: i know most of you won't read this but i just wanna say thank you for reading this, i know it's not super canon compliant but it was more just a fluffy little series for me to write and i had a blast. and i know not everyone likes the pregnancy trope but god dammit! our boy deserves a family of his own!

i will definitely be doing more series in the future and i'm already working on another project that i hope you'll all like! anywho, love all of you and imma give you all a fat kiss goodnight, muah!

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencereidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll @pinkpantheris @violetvsworld @readergf @pangirl-fangirl @emideadpoets @blackbeautyiloveyouso @amethyst-marie368 @amethyst-marie368

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #x reader #cm spencer #dr reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x you #cm smut #criminal minds smut #spencer

[letorip]

i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

when we were high / eddie munson

one shot

part two

rated: m (18+, minors DNI)

cw: henderson!reader, marijuana use, fingering, squirting, slight name calling/degradation (slut), aftercare

normally when you smoke with eddie you can control your horny thoughts. today, he was looking way too good and that caused you to fail

—

“damn, munson, i really needed this today,” you hum contently, relaxing into his side as you took a hit from the blunt he just rolled.

eddie chuckles, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his bare side. “i can’t wait to see how dustin reacts when he finds out i got you smoking weed,” he smiles, taking the blunt from your fingers. you hit his chest lightly as he deeply inhales the smoke into his lungs.

“i’m older than him, he’ll deal,” you say, tracing one of eddie’s tattoos mindlessly.

eddie snorts, making him cough as he exhaled. “just like he ‘dealt’ with you becoming friends with me?” he teases, holding the blunt back out to you. you laugh, thinking back to the temper tantrum dustin threw over you taking his friends. you take the blunt, taking another hit in attempt to calm your nerves from the stressful day.

“he’s just mad i'm the cooler sibling,” you shrug. eddie shakes his head.

he holds up the hand that isn’t around you in protest. “mm, i don’t know about that. you don’t play d&d,” he teases. he plucks the blunt from your fingers and puts it back to his own lips.

you roll your eyes at him but you two continue the banter and passing the blunt back and forth. eddie’s trailer was so hot and sticky. because of that, you were only in a sports bra and shorts and eddie only had on his jeans. you two weren’t anything more than friends, but you found comfort in being close to one another since you both came from families where physical affection wasn’t very common. well, in your family all the affection went to dustin.

about twenty minutes later, both you and eddie are high as fuck and giggling in each other’s arms. the nonsense conversation you were having came to a close and the two of you sat in comfortable silence. at least eddie was.

but you were having a whole other problem down below and sitting was starting to become uncomfortable. it was also hard to ignore when you had eddie sitting shirtless right beside you with his ringed fingers playing with your hair. and you were high, so rational thinking wasn’t even a thought. “eddieeee,” you say in a sing-songy voice, turning to face him.

you didn’t have much room to face him though, so you ended up half falling on top of him as your hands held his face. he smiles at you and reaches up to grab your face as well. “y/nnnn,” he mocks you, causing you two to laugh.

once you settle down, you start talking again. “i’m horny,” you giggle, causing eddie’s eyes to widen. for a moment, he feels sober.

“yeah?” he asks, squishing your cheeks together.

you laugh at him, using one of your hands to bop his nose.

“sooo horny and reallyyy wet,” you confirm. eddie looks at you in shock. he doesn’t even know what to say. “wanna feel?” you ask as if he’d obviously want to.

eddie takes his hands from your cheeks to instead holds your sides. “y/n, i think you’re too high,” he says. this makes you pout and get sad. you let go of his face and flop back down. “i don’t think when we sober up, you’re gonna be happy you told me that,” he says, pulling you back into him.

you don’t respond for a few moments, but you can’t ignore the growing feeling between your legs. “i don’t think it’s a big deal. i’m horny, eddie. you make me horny,” you say, nuzzling into him.

the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “oh, do i?” he teases, interested in your words.

you nod, turning to look up at him. “it’s the rings… and watching you play guitar. your fingers…” you trail, switching your gaze slowly to grab his hand. he watches you closely as you begin fiddling with the rings on his right hand, absorbing the information you just gave him. he didn’t know his hands could turn someone on. “eddie?” you speak out in question.

eddie bites his lip and looks back down at you when you look up at him. “hm?” he questions.

“will you finger me?” you ask shamelessly. eddie gasps in surprise, a surplus of spit getting lodged in his throat making him cough. you look at him so innocently that he almost agreed immediately.

“y/n, we- we’re friends, babe. friends don’t… finger each other,” he tries explaining. this only makes you frown.

you keep messing with his rings, and all you could think of was how they’d feeling inside of you. “but i want you to. who says friends can’t do that?” you try convincing him.

he chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking. personally, he didn’t really care. he’d do whatever, sex-wise, you asked him if you were both sober. he didn’t think there was anything romantic between you and he knows sometimes people just need a release. but you were high right now, and you weren’t nearly as accustomed to it as he was. he was afraid you’d regret this once you sobered up and he didn’t want to risk losing your friendship.

he felt you squirming slightly, noticing your thighs clamping together as you played with his hands. “what’s gonna happen if i don’t help you cum?” eddie asks, causing your head to snap up. you have to close your eyes for a moment since the fast movement made you dizzy.

“i’ll suffer,” you say. eddie huffs and looks to the side.

he was leaning more towards doing it, partly because he was curious to see you as you fell apart under him. “you promise me you want me to do this? you promise it won’t change our friendship?” he asks, making you look him in the eyes.

you nod, a big smile coming on your face. “i promise,” you say. he takes that as good enough and stands up. before you can ask questions, he’s picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards his room.

“i'm not doing it infront of all the windows,” he explains before throwing you down on his bed and crawling on top of you. you laugh at him and grab his shoulders, sliding your hands up and down his arms as he analyzes you. “you ready?” he asks and you nod eagerly.

eddie takes a deep breath before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and underwear and quickly pulling them off your body. you shiver as your pussy is exposed to the humid air of the trailer. eddie takes a moment to just look at you, realizing you really weren’t lying when you said you were really wet. “just checking… but you’re sure?” he asks, his eyes flickering from you to your heat.

you reach out to him, making grabby hands until he gives you his right hand. you guide it slowly down to your core, eddie watching every movement closely. as you place his fingers against you, you shiver before letting go and nodding. “i’m sure,” you whisper.

eddie slowly twists his wrist around, using his fingers to gather some of your slick and slowly stroke you all over. you let out a small moan, the weed making each sensation feel ten times better than normal. eddie bites his lip at the moan you let out and then brings his fingers up to your clit. he begins tantalizing circles, paying close attention to your body’s reactions. he knew how good orgasms felt when you were high, and he knew they came faster than normal as well. still, he wanted this to be the best damn orgasm of your life.

“that feel good, y/n?” he asks, pressing down a bit more on your clit. you sigh in content, moving your hands to grab the sheets of his bed. you felt each wave flood your entire bottom half which caused you to close your eyes.

eddie sat back a bit, drinking in your frame as he let his middle finger travel down towards your entrance. he slips it in slowly, causing a delicious moan to leave your lips. he bites on his bottom lip, pumping his finger slowly in and out of you, watching your hips push down to meet his knuckles. “m-more,” you whine.

another finger joins his middle one, slowly sinking into your greedy pussy. “eddie,” you moan, causing him to wince and a bit more blood to rush to his cock.

“you look so dirty right now, y/n,” he sighs, thrusting into you with his fingers. you let out a whimper at his words. “such a slutty girl, huh? fucking yourself on your friends fingers just to get off?” he mumbles.

you gasp at his words, the beginning of your orgasm beginning to build deep in your stomach. “your fingers… feel so good, fuck,” you moan. eddie smiles at you, beginning to curl his fingers instead. “fuck!” you gasp. “keep doing that, ohhh goddd,” you moan, gripping his sheets as you try rolling your hips. eddie smirks at you, moving them slightly faster in a ‘come hither’ motion.

the weed was making you start tightening random muscles as you tried to absorb as much pleasure as possible. “you going to cum for me?” eddie asks, leaning over you slightly to try and get a better angle.

his movement worked, because it hand your head slamming back. “eddieee, oh shit, yes!” you moaned and gasped, this slightly different position driving you wild. eddie smiled at your face, jaw slack as your eyes threatened to roll back. he moved his thumb, placing it on your clit as he sped up his fingers. “oh, eddie,” you whine, grabbing his wrist that was propping him up.

“you look so pretty like this, y/n,” he cooed in a teasing manner, thumbing circles on your clit. you moan, clenching your pussy around his fingers as your high neared. “cum for me, pretty girl,” he hummed, speeding up his hand. you moaned, eyes rolling back as your legs began shaking with anticipation.

the knot in your core was so tight, just moments away from bursting. eddie didn’t slow his movements, instead trying to put more pressure on your clit as he heard your labored breaths. “come on y/n, cum, cum for me,” he says, teeth gritted as he begins slamming his fingers into your pussy.

your back arches off his bed and you squeeze his wrist and his sheets as small little gasps of moans come out of your mouth. with one last moan of eddie’s name, the knot snaps and your orgasm is spreading through you like wildfire.

eddie gasps, pulling his fingers out of you quickly as a stream of squirt rushes out of your heat and onto his pants and bed. your legs shake slightly as you roll your hips, eddie too stunned to help you ride out your orgasm, just watching little spurts of your squirt come at him. he was mesmerized. when your back finally flattened and you tried to start catching your breath, eddie snapped back to reality.

“you just… squirted. on my bed… on me…” he trails, running his finger through the wet patch on his jeans.

you look at him in humiliation, immediately closing your legs and bringing them up close to your body. “i-i’m so sorry, that’s never happened before,” you stutter, scared he’s going to find you disgusting.

eddie looks up at you, fascination covering his features. he grabs your ankles, pulling them down and throwing your legs apart. “you’re doing that again,” he says, sinking his fingers back into you.

“oh shit!” you moan at his invasion of your sensitive hole. he barely gave you a rest, and you were still feeling the numbed pleasure from your orgasm that a knot began to build once again in your core.

eddie looks at you with a determined look, using his free hand to smooth back your hair. “that was so fucking hot, you’re cumming for me again,” he says, curling his fingers inside of you.

you whine as he moves his face closer to your pussy, watching closely as you clench around his moving fingers. he instead uses his other hand to start rubbing across your clit, causing your toes to curl. “yes!” you gasp, gripping the sheets and raising your hips towards him.

“going to cum for me already, little slut?” he asks, hammering his fingers into you as he furiously rubs your clit. you let out a deep moan, legs beginning to shake as an even more intense orgasm builds inside of you. your back begins arching, making eddie speed up as your eyes roll back into your head. “cum, squirt on me baby, come on,” eddie demands you and your whole body shakes, the knot snapping as you arch so far your back cracks.

you let out a scream as it snaps, eddie pulling his fingers from inside of you, still assaulting your clit making a harder stream come from inside of you. when it stops, you’re still shaking in your orgasm, so he thrusts his fingers into you a few more times, removing them and watching you squirt again. it was addicting to watch.

you flop onto his bed as he begins hammering into you one last time, your whole body shaking with tremors. he pulls out his fingers, others still pushing down on and rubbing your clit, and a smaller bit of your squirt comes splashing onto his bed, a small puddle formed there. you lay there, spasming as he begins rubbing your legs in attempt to calm you down.

when you finally fall limp on his bed, he crawls up next to you. “feel better now?” he asks cockily. your head falls to the side, looking at him through your fucked out eyes. he laughs slightly. “you are so fucked out of your mind right now,” he observes, feeling a bit of his ego grow.

you close your eyes, nodding slowly. now, you felt like you needed a good nap. eddie smiles, placing a soft kiss to your forehead, which was something he did as friends so it didn’t worry you. “you did good,” he says softly.

you hum in response, lazily trying to grab for him. he places a hand on your stomach causing your eyes to weakly flutter open. “i’m gonna clean you up and then we’re gonna take a fat nap, okay?” he says, slightly hovering over you. you nod in agreement and he begins pushing himself off his bed. he picks you up carefully, moving you out of the puddle of your own mess before running to the bathroom.

he comes back with a warm rag, using it to wipe off your bottom half. he was extra careful around your sensitive core and then slid your underwear back on. “can you stand?” he asks. you try, pushing yourself up but beginning to stumble from the mix of being high and just coming down from two mind blowing orgasms. eddie catches you with a laugh, “maybe not.” he guides you to his desk chair, having you sit there as he takes off his sheets, throwing down some towels where you had left a mess and then covering his whole bed with his other sheets.

after changing into a pair of boxers, closing all the curtains, turning off the light, and turning on his fan, he walked back over to you. “stand up,” he said, and you did, falling into him. he chuckles at you, picking you up nonetheless and taking you to bed. he lays you down gently, then climbs in next to you. he pulls you closely to his chest and you sigh in content.

“eddie?” you question hoarsely.

“yeah, y/n?” he runs his fingers through your hair.

you blink heavily, feeling sleep creep up on you. “why didn’t,” you yawn, “you cum?”

eddie just shakes his head and places a kiss to the top of your head. “i wasn’t worried about it,” he says.

“but… i would’ve helped,” you say.

he laughs. “no, y/n. in this state i wouldn’t have let you. now go to sleep,” he says.

you were too tired to be your normal persistent self so you just nodded and snuggled further into him, despite the heat of the room. eddie closed his eyes as well, rubbing your side as you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

#stranger things eddie #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie #munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things smut

[sarahisslytherin]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.

It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.

But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.

You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.

Dearest,

I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.

You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful. 

This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear. 

“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!” 

You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”

“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.

“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton oneshot

[jingsyuans]

HIIIII! may i request for jing yuan teasing reader so much that they ended up kissing him??? and they’re still not in a relationship so pining and stuff 🥹

a/n: thank you for your request 🤍

no pronouns or gender described for reader.

⚝──⭒─ Jing Yuan ; tease ─⭒──⚝

.

.

The Xianzhou Luofu is a peaceful place. Under impressive calculation and insight, the ship was led with a steady hand that knew how to avoid meaningless bloodshed and keep your kind’s goal ever so close. To live miraculously, not needlessly.

But that’s not to say the general leading the ship was without his own faults and quirks.

Out of all the places you’ve traveled in the Xianzhou alliance, you find yourself most satisfied when you’re stationed on the Luofu. It’s peaceful here. The general, however, was an entirely different story.

You could name at least five different general’s in the alliance that were more professional and easier to handle than Jing Yuan. And there were only seven general’s total.

It’s not that he was a bad guy. No, that wasn’t it at all- you think rather highly of Jing Yuan and you trust his leadership and judgement. It’s just when it came to personal matters and your own relationship with him, it was… how do you put it into words?

A sudden wisp of air blows by your ear and you startle out of your thoughts, nearly falling out of your seat. But two hands steadily hold the back of your chair, a pair of lips smiling next to your ear. “Miss me, lieutenant?”

“Jing Yuan!” You snap your head back to look at your general, who looks a little too happy with your reaction. As always. With a hand moving up to your ear, you growl at him- “I told you to stop doing that!”

“But you startle so easily, lieutenant,” he bemoans, moving some of his weight onto the back of your chair and making you unsteady. “I’m only worried for you. You should always be on high alert, I’m merely helping you.”

“Blowing on my ear while I focus on paperwork that you should be doing isn’t helping,” you deadpan. He doesn’t look bothered by your attitude, just smiling along with a sigh.

“Hmm… maybe you’re right.”

This was the sort of relationship you had with him, which you could of never expected. Jing Yuan just loved to mess with you, finding you during his spare time and poking at all your buttons to rile you up. And it’s honestly not all that bad, just childish games, but…

But he was your superior, and… he’s Jing Yuan, someone that’s undeniably powerful and attractive. Having all his attention on you, looking at you like that- it’s just not fair. That’s why you tried to put your foot down several times, but he never quite listened to you.

Infuriating. He’s beautiful and infuriating and there’s really nothing you can do about it.

So your weeks are always hectic, despite the overall peace on the ship. One day, your general is calling you over to share lunch with him only to make you sit still while he feeds you portions of his food (you hated that, he stared at you so intensely the entire time and you still have no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve by that), and then the next he’s dragging his fingers across your back and making you shiver, and when you look back he’s got his hands at his sides and playing innocent.

But you know he’s anything but innocent. He’s playing with your heart at this point, and you just keep letting him.

Except now… now you might be losing it a little bit.

His games with you had been endless recently. You aren’t sure what made him wake up one morning and decide to mess with you nonstop, but you’re starting to lose sleep over it. The- the blowing in the ear? It wasn’t even the start of his nonsense.

He’d trip you while you walked just to catch you in his arms, he’d make you sit with him while he did paperwork and all he’d do is stare at you the whole time. He’s even started to call you loving names.

Maybe that was your limit. When he started calling you sweetheart, dear one, darling. That was just too cruel, teasing you with what you could never have. Giving you the picture of reciprocation and love that could never be.

You wanted to settle this matter diplomatically. Sit down with him, tell him you were uncomfortable, and you knew Jing Yuan would stop. His games were supposed to amuse (him, mostly, but still) and not hurt. If he knew you felt bent out of shape about it, he’d take a step back.

But then he just did it again before you could even start. Right when you approached him at his desk, his golden eye gleaming and he leaned forward with his arms on his desk, hands clasped together.

“Oh, there you are, dear. You know, I was just thinking about you.” He smiles at you in that way he does, when he says things he doesn’t mean.

You try. You try to stay civil. “General Jing Yuan, I just need you to know that-“

“General Jing Yuan?” He interrupts you completely, eyebrows flying up his forehead. “Using the full title huh? I thought we were closer than that, or maybe you’re really serious.” Getting up from his chair, he starts to round the desk.

You clench your fists at your sides. “General, I-“

“You really can’t use my name?” Jing Yuan fully rounds the desk, approaching you slowly with an amused expression on his face and hands behind his back. He still thinks this is a joke. “I know you can. Drop the title. Your general demands it, if that’s what it takes.”

“… Jing Yuan, I want you to know that-“

“Ah, there it is. My name’s never sounded sweeter,” he smiles gleefully, and once he’s in front of you, he chuckles. “Alright. Thank you for adhering to my request, lieutenant. What do you need?”

You stare at him. You stare and stare and stare, because words have escaped you and suddenly you’re just angry. Angry at him. Angry at yourself.

Angry about the fact you want him so bad.

And as an amazing tactician as Jing Yuan is, somehow he doesn’t realize you’re angry. He just leans into your space, that coy look still on his face as he tilts his head. “At a loss for words, lieutenant?” He asks. “You’re not falling for me, are you?”

That’s it. That’s it! He wants to play married couple? Fine. He gets the whole package deal, then.

In what could only be a moment of insanity, your hands raise to hold either side of his face, tilting his head so he’s at your height when you swoop in and kiss him. And oh, you put your everything into that kiss. All your weight, your energy, your anger. You can feel Jing Yuan’s body tense under your touch when you first put your lips on his, a muffled sound of surprise escaping his mouth before you swallow it up. Taking multiple steps closer to him until you have him against his own desks, his hands grasping onto the surface to keep himself steady as you kiss him full.

You only stop once you need a breath of air. And once the air comes in and reaches your brain, you realize all at once what a complete idiot you are. You just kissed your general. Your superior.

You kissed Jing Yuan, who’s looking at you with his eyes blown wide open and his chest heaving to take back all the air you stole right out from under him.

It’s almost funny. He’s always so composed- you’ve never seen him look like this before.

It serves him right.

“I want you to stop teasing me, Jing Yuan,” you finally muster the courage to speak, knowing that he’s listening to your every word now. He’s paying more attention to you than ever before. Your hands still holding the sides of his jaw, you take a deep breath and will yourself to step away, bringing your hands away from him as you give him a hard look. “Stop saying things that you don’t really mean.”

Because then I might just kiss you again.

Your general blinks once, as if to reset his point of view, and he grows lax against his desk. Looks at you in a way you can’t really describe. “That’s fair,” he rasps, clears his throat. A hand wandering up to his jaw and smoothing over the skin. “I won’t say things that I don’t mean.”

“…Good.” Nodding curtly, you move to turn on your heel, thoroughly mortified with yourself for having done such a thing before Jing Yuan speaks up again.

“Though, maybe we got off on the wrong foot… because I don’t ever recall saying something that I didn’t mean, lieutenant.”

You turn back to look at him slowly, your eyebrows furrowed. You almost want to get angry again, but can’t find it in you. “What?”

He merely huffs through his nose in amusement, familiar smile creeping on his lips. “I don’t mind repeating myself, but not unnecessarily. You know that.”

“But you-“ this can’t be right. He’s messing with you again, isn’t he? “But you call me those names, and make me eat your food, and stare at me, and-“ he’s approaching you now. “And you touch me, and-“

There’s no reason for Jing Yuan to go to such lengths and tease someone he didn’t care about. He likes to waste his time, yes, but he only does so because he plans ahead. He sees things before they come and plans for the outcome and sets it in motion before people even realize what’s happening. Before you realize what’s happening.

You’re in his arms, swept up under his gaze just like always as he leans in and surrounds you with him. Him, only him. Eating up all your attention just like always. You’ve played right into his hands. Maybe not the way he exactly expected, but the outcome was what he was aiming for all the same.

“You want me,” you whisper. This time it’s your voice that’s a little hoarse. And Jing Yuan just smiles at you, so close to you that you can feel his warm breath on your cheeks.

“Immensely, dear.”

It seems that even after all this time that you’ve been alive, chasing after destiny… you still have a lot to grasp,

Especially when it comes to Jing Yuan.

#reader insert #x reader #hsr x reader #hsr reader insert #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan #jingyuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan reader insert #hsr #honkai star rail

[eve-dawntower]

Treasure (Rafayel x MC)

Rafayel used to have all your attention, but now a rival has arrived. Who would have thought that the most formidable rival he'll ever get is his own flesh and blood?

Warning: None

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader

Tags: Fluff

Rafayel was truly happy when he found out he was going to be a father. I mean, a child is a combination of a small bit of him and a small bit of you, right? He was genuinely ready to become a father despite whatever nonsense Thomas was spouting. But what he wasn't ready for was you focusing all your attention on the half-merman toddler the two of you had created.

Rafayel glared at the small being splashing in the swimming pool in the middle of the baby room. The water in the pool was actually seawater and at the same temperature as the deep waters. Normally, Lemurian children could withstand the temperature above the sea, but babies and toddlers can't. It was all thanks to the protocore technology that they were able to create a baby room appropriate for a half-Lemurian and half-human brat. Brat. That's right. That's what he called his own spawn.

The toddler giggled as you tickled him, making Rafayel pout more. Why was he getting all your attention? The first few months after the baby was born were fine, but he's already eight months old! Isn't it about time for you to turn all your attention back to him, the father?

"At what age will he be able to learn to change his tails to legs?" you asked, not taking your eyes off your son. See? You can't even spare him a small glance, even though you're asking him questions!

"Around three or four. I still need to teach him how. But it's still up to him if he'll be able to master it or not. Not every Lemurian is capable of doing it. Only the talented ones," he replied sullenly.

Noticing that familiar tone, you turned to look at him, and for the first time, you realized he was pouting.

"What's the matter?" you asked him.

"Nothing," he turned away and stomped out of the room.

You look back to your son who was playing around the pool, oblivious to his father's mood.

Days turned into weeks, and Rafayel's frustration lingered. His days were now filled with a mix of responsibilities and longing for the attention he once had. The house echoed with the occasional splash from the baby room, where your son continued to explore his aquatic abilities under your devoted guidance.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found Rafayel brooding in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow revealed the depth of his emotions, and you couldn't ignore the strain on the relationship.

"Rafayel, we need to talk," you said, settling beside him. He sighed, reluctantly turning to face you.

"It's just... I feel like I've become a background character in my own story. Our story," he confessed, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

You took his hand, reassuringly squeezing it. "I understand it's been an adjustment, but our son needs our attention. We can find a balance."

He nodded, but the ache in his eyes lingered. The following days, you made a conscious effort to involve Rafayel in the daily routines with your son, trying to bridge the emotional gap that had grown.

However, the problem with Rafayel was that he's very stubborn, and no matter how hard he tried, it was difficult for him not to be salty about how much attention his son was getting from you.

One day, you were suddenly called into a mission. Normally, Thomas takes care of your son when you're away, but Thomas is away for now, and calling a babysitter is obviously not an option. After all, you can't let anyone know about your half-Lemurian child. Left with no choice, you have to leave the child in Rafayel's care.

"Rafayel, please take very good care of him," you said, looking at him with a comically desperate expression.

Rafayel gave you a very offended look. "What do you think of me?! Incapable of taking care of my own child?!"

The conversation you had regarding what he was feeling about your child having all your attention lingers in your mind, but you decide to shake it off. Rafayel dislikes cats, but he took good care of one for you back then. What more if it's his flesh and blood? Despite what he was feeling, he wouldn't be irresponsible, right?

You nodded and planted a small kiss on the child's temple before leaving.

Rafayel stared at the doorway with an offended and exaggerated expression of shock.

"She didn't kiss me goodbye!"

The toddler giggled, making Rafayel turn to glare at him.

As Rafayel continued to glare at the toddler, the little mischief-maker seized the opportunity and splashed a handful of water in Rafayel's direction, prompting an unexpected reaction.

Rafayel dramatically recoiled, clutching his heart with mock horror. "Assaulted by a baby! This is outrageous!"

The toddler found this uproarious and burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying the water-based escapade. Rafayel, however, continued his theatrics, staggering around the room as if gravely wounded.

"You've wounded me, my aquatic progeny! I'm a victim of watery aggression!" Rafayel declared, sinking to his knees in a theatrical display of defeat.

Your son, finding this turn of events entertaining, crawled over to Rafayel and patted him on the head. Rafayel seized the opportunity to cradle the toddler in his arms, feigning weakness.

"Ah, the betrayer himself consoles the wounded party. What a world!" Rafayel exclaimed dramatically, earning more giggles from the toddler.

The baby room transformed into a stage for this impromptu comedy, with Rafayel playing the role of the aggrieved victim. Despite the initial frustration, the absurdity of the situation broke the tension, and laughter echoed through the house.

Rafayel sighed after a few moments. "I wonder if your mommy still loves me. It's unfair! I'm the first! Why does it seem that she loves you more?" He whined as he poked the baby's nose, making him laugh. "Yeah, keep laughing at me. Pour more salt on your father's wound." He sighed. "I don't really hate you or anything. I mean, how can I? You're my son. Your mommy's and mine's son. But it really makes me sad how I ended up being shoved aside when you arrive in our life."

Just then, the child dragged himself off his father and slowly pulled himself towards the drawer. Rafayel watched him and mentally compare him to a seal.

The baby then looked at Rafayel, then back to the drawer, babbling.

"What is it?" Rafayel approached his son questioningly.

The child babbled as if trying to communicate with him.

Rafayel sighed. "I really don't have any idea what you're trying to say."

Pouting with a pout that resembles his, the child tried to reach and pulled lower the drawer handle.

"Hey, don't!"

Rafayel grabbed him away from it, making the child look at him in displeasure.

Rafayel groaned. "I guess Thomas is right. You really do look like a spitting image of me, especially when you're unhappy. Fine. You want to open this?"

Rafayel pulled the bottom drawer open, where he saw a book. He took it out and inspected it.

"What's this?" he muttered as he sat on the couch with the baby on his lap. He flipped the first page and realized it's like a diary. Only, it was a diary of your pregnancy.

When you were pregnant, you decided to write all your thoughts in it and how you felt at that time. Rafayel was unaware of it.

He started to read what you wrote.

"Rafayel is always childish and insufferable. He always annoys me, and sometimes I really want to choke him..."

"What the heck?! Is this all about her complaints about me?!"

The baby chuckled as if understanding what his father was saying.

Rafayel glanced at him. "Your mother... Seriously..." He shook his head and flipped to the next page, reading the contents.

More complaints about him were written. The farther he got, the harsher her words became. By the time he was halfway, he was more than ready to burn the diary. But then...

"Rafayel might not be the most mature guy out there, but he is really trying. Despite my mood swings and weird cravings, he was there, never leaving my side. Even if he always ends up receiving my anger, he never retaliated. Well, after I cried when he talked back once, he stop with his sassy remarks. I guess my cries traumatized him. Haha. If you gave me a chance to exchange him with someone else, I'll never do it. Because he's the only man I ever loved and will always love. He is also the one who gave me my treasure. My child."

As Rafayel read the diary, the realization dawned on him that, during your pregnancy, you had poured your heart onto those pages. The entries spoke volumes about the emotional journey you went through, and he found himself becoming a central figure in the narrative.

In the heartfelt words, you described how Rafayel was your pillar of support, always there to ease your fears and celebrate every milestone. The diary chronicled his late-night runs to satisfy your sudden cravings, the countless moments of reassurance, and the joy he brought into the preparations for the baby's arrival.

As Rafayel continued reading, a mix of emotions played on his face—astonishment, gratitude, and a touch of humility. It was a revelation that he had been a vital part of your pregnancy, more than he had realized.

He glanced at the baby in his lap, who seemed fascinated by the unfolding drama. Rafayel couldn't help but smile, a newfound warmth settling in his heart.

"I had no idea," he murmured, a genuine appreciation for the role he played during those months.

The entries continued to paint a picture of a loving partnership, with Rafayel actively participating in creating a nurturing environment for the upcoming addition to the family. He discovered how, despite his initial grumblings, he had been a source of strength for you.

Closing the diary, Rafayel looked at his son with a newfound understanding. The baby, sensing his father's softened demeanor, reached out and touched Rafayel's cheek, as if acknowledging the unspoken connection.

He hugged the baby. "If she consider you a treasure that I gave her, it makes sense how much she cares about you." He kissed his son's temple. "I also care about you but I guess I just felt so left out, I started seeing you as a rival. I promise it will never happen again."

With the diary in his hands, Rafayel felt a newfound appreciation for the bond he shared with you and the significance of his role in your life. As he embraced his son, a sense of warmth enveloped the room, dissolving the remnants of frustration that had lingered.

In that moment, the past frustrations and perceived rivalries faded away. The baby room became a sanctuary of reflection and realization. Rafayel embraced the depth of his role, not just as a father in the present but as a constant support throughout the journey of bringing their child into the world.

_____

After the particularly challenging mission, you returned home, exhausted yet relieved to be back. Opening the door, you realized it was too quiet.

"Rafayel?" You called out, worried about your husband and child.

You receive no reply and so, you went to the baby room.

Just then, you were greeted by a scene that melted away any residual weariness.

In the dim light of the baby room, you saw Rafayel peacefully sleeping on the pool, the baby nestled on his chest, both in a serene slumber. The sight was heartwarming – a testament to the newfound understanding and unity that had blossomed in your absence.

You couldn't help but smile at the peaceful tableau. Gently, you approached the sleeping duo and planted a soft kiss on Rafayel's kiss. He stirred, slowly waking up with a dazed expression.

"Welcome back," he whispered, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You nodded, savoring the tranquility of the moment. "What happened while I was away?"

Rafayel grinned, gesturing to the peacefully sleeping baby on his chest. "Well, we had a little water-based escapade, a dramatic showdown, and a realization that we're all in this together. Oh, and I read your pregnancy diary. Turns out, I played a more significant role than I thought."

"What?! Where do you find it?!" Your cheek reddened in embarrassment. You almost forgot about that diary.

"Well, a little fishy showed it to me," Rafayel gently shifted, allowing you to join them on the poolside. You gave him a look, annoyed that you wanted to get in the pool and have your hunter outfit get wet.

Sighing, you got in the pool.

"It's my real feelings, by the way," you said, referring to the diary's content.

"Yeah. Sorry for being so childish. I guess I just got used to having all your attention. I mean, I'm used to having everyone's attention. As a child, everyone fawned on me, and even when I became an adult, being the artist that I am, everyone looks up to me. So now, having another being get the attention of the person that I love the most made me anxious. I promise I'll never try to compete with my own son for attention."

"I also want to apologize, Rafayel. I guess I really did neglect you." You kissed his lips, as if apologizing for the times he felt neglected.

"It's fine. But promise me, once our child is old enough, I'll be the number one again."

You chuckled at that and snuggled to him.

"I promise."

"And I'm sorry for being a bit of a drama king," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, "Well, I wouldn't have it any other way. Our story may be a bit dramatic, but it's uniquely ours."

The three of you shared a moment of quiet happiness, basking in the love that bound your unconventional family.

With your son sleeping peacefully between you, the challenges of the past were replaced by a sense of unity and understanding. As you leaned in to share a tender moment with Rafayel, you knew that every twist and turn in your story had led to this beautiful chapter of shared laughter, love, and the promise of a bright future together.

As the moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on the room, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey that had brought you to this moment. 

END

MASTERLIST

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #rafayel x reader

[dreamlessimp]

— poster

itoshi rin x reader | 0.9k

you go to his game, and he gets mad

your notifications for football games had gone from a necessity, to a minor inconvenience. at first, they allowed you to watch many of rin’s games. it was a way to get closer, and worked well enough.

when he left though, the alerts began to sting in a way that was ever so dull.

still, eventually, you were the fortunate receiver of a welcome surprise—rin would be playing near your house.

disappointing as it was that he hadn’t told you, you were already used to it. you’d begun to speak less and less as time quickly passed, so it served no surprise. still, you tried to cling to the hope that you’d grow closer yet again.

not long after receiving the game notice, you decided to make a sign, a poster of sorts. something to cheer his name, and remind him of yours.

after acquiring poster paper, you pulled open a marker and began the meticulous job of outlining his given name.

resisting the urge to add heats, stars, anything to take up space, you elected to simply adorn the still-white paper with words of wished luck and victory.

though, you quickly fell to the urges and the once crisp white paper was turned into a rainbow you weren’t exactly proud of, but were happy to look at.

the day of his game, you happily grabbed your poster and made your way into the stadium. your seat was close enough to the field that you hoped your probably-just-friend would be able to spare you a glance.

the minutes after his game proved a bigger surprise than you could have possibly considered. not only did rin exclusively seek you out—but he was mad. at you.

you blinked back your shock. “what?”

rin’s eyes widened and he scowled. “i asked why the hell you came.” his voice was far too cold for comfort.

“i’ve come to so many of your games rin.” you choked out. 

“so? i’m asking you why.” he spat.

you were dejected. there was no sense or reason in his anger. it was so nonsensical that there was truly no point in clapping back.

“dammit rin.” you spoke quietly before turning around to leave, eyes as blank as rin’s were cold.

on the way back to your home, you throw away the sign. it’s just a coincidence that you chose the garbage bin outside of the home of itoshi rin.

hours later, rin texts you. ‘i’m sorry.’ he says. you’d have been shocked to find how much he meant it.

he hated his performance in the game. sure, he had scored, but it wasn’t the kind of goal that he wanted to score, the conditions were all wrong and it wasn’t right.

though, he despised his stupid anger at you even more. you had attended his game—which he’d never even told you about—with a sign. one that was obviously homemade no less, so clearly made by you and you alone unlike the so many printed signs he’d seen even that game alone.

he was, horribly stupid.

‘i’m sorry.’ you read from your phone. scoffing, you shut off the phone to sit on your bed, once again staring at the ceiling as you’d been doing for who knows how long.

whether you blamed yourself or rin, whether he had the right to be mad or you did, your mind was too thick to determine. what you knew though, was that you missed the rin you used to know so well.

soon, rin had a vague thought that he needed to stop his lonely pity party, and gathered up his garbage to throw away.

he absolutely did not expect to see that damned sign you made inside of his own garbage bin.

at the sight, the outside of his eyes filled with an unexpected liquid prompting him to instinctively reach up to scratch the pointless sensation.

in a haze, he threw in his trash and carefully picked up the largely undamaged sign. with it held carefully in his undeserving hands, he took it home.

rin took it into his room, where he propped it up on his dresser. from his position at his desk, he could just see it fall from the corner of his eye.

he walked back to once again prop it up, and stood as it wavered, and then fell once again. 

realizing it would not stand on his own, with a glance at your large writing proclaiming his own name, he walked over to the side of his bed and propped up your colorful sign with the soft plushie of a character he did not recognize, that you had once given to him.

it truly made sense that the few sources of color in his room came from you. 

allowing himself to dramatically fall back onto his bed, he gazed at his boring ceiling and waited for the minutes to tick by and for the dread to dissipate from his tired body.

you were wondering for possibly the thousandth time whether or not to respond to rin, when, yet again, you received another call.

letting it ring out, you finally decided to turn off your phone.

with your phone off, you missed the text he instantly regretted sending, but was entirely set on carrying out; ‘i’m coming over.’

#ssimpfics #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin angst #rin angst #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock rin #blue lock #blue lock angst #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk itoshi rin #bllk rin #bllk angst

[back2bluesidex]

Best Fucking Friends - JHS & PJM (18+)

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.

Pairing: Hoseok X fem!reader X Jimin

Theme: PWP, Smut, threesome (?) NSFW!!!

Wordcount: 2k+

Summary: Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.  

Warnings: Explicit sex, unprotected sex (it's a no no), throat fucking, tit play, oral (both party receiving), little bit of insecure reader, jimin is blonde (yeah, that's a warning). tell me if there's more.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: enjoy the flith.

It’s almost pathetic how you are standing at your best friends’ door, wearing a thin tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, hair disheveled, sticking to every direction because of the tantrum you threw earlier.

Two bottles of soju and a dozen beer cans dangling from your arms resting inside two black polyethene. Heavy indeed, but you can manage.

You jab at the doorbell again, way too impatient to get inside your comforting nest, in their comforting embrace, but you don’t know what’s taking them so long. 

After almost 3 minutes of keeping you outside, Jimin finally opens the door and his eyebrows shoot to reach his hairline. 

“Y/N? hey?” he speaks through his plump lips but you are way too angry and frustrated to give into his ethereal beauty. 

“What the fuck took you so long? It’s been a lifetime since I started ringing the bell!” you spat at him, shoving him aside as you welcome yourself inside their apartment. 

“Ah! We thought our neighbor was here again to complain about our overflowing trash.” Jimin follows you inside as he takes a look at the items you are placing one by one on their coffee table. 

“I thought you had a date with your dumbass boyfriend today?” Jimin places carefully and you ignore his question. 

“Where is Hobi?” grabbing a beer can, you jump on their plush couch. God! You love this couch more than your own. 

“Taking a shower but that’s not important! You just ignored my question. Is everything alright or not, Y/N?” Jimin’s expression turns serious as he comes and sits down beside you. You ignore him again, taking a big and loud gulp from the beer can. 

The bathroom door clicks open and your other best friend walks out… wearing only a bathrobe. 

Your eyes fall on Hoseok and you almost choke on the beer. 

The loose neck of the bathrobe hangs low on his sharp collarbones, water drips down from his wet jet black hair and drops on his chest, and gradually gets soaked in the fluffy material of the robe. 

You shamelessly check him out even when you know Jimin's basically sitting beside you and can see you thirsting over his roommate slash best friend. And if you are not wrong, you probably see Jimin smirking a bit. 

“Y/N?” Hobi exclaims as soon as he notices you sitting on the couch, “didn’t you have a date?” 

That’s it! You come to your best friends for some solace but all they have to talk about.. Is your date!

“Why the fuck do you guys have to talk about him? He dumped me! Do you guys hear what I am saying? He fucking dumped me!!” you scream at the top of your lungs. Your eyes turn blurry and before you close them you see Hoseok running to you. 

Within a moment, you find yourself being sandwiched between two warm bodies, one slightly wet and another way too soft. 

Before you know, you start crying, “that fucker said he doesn’t feel the same way for me anymore! He said he found someone else and thinks that she is the soulmate he was looking for! That nutjob!” 

Jimin rubs on your back saying, “it’s his loss, completely his loss.”

“I thought we could be something. I thought- he loves me! Fuck! I am a fool! Why would anyone fall for a cold, short-tempered, not-so-attractive 27 year old like me?” you shout again, voice already hoarse. 

“Stop talking nonsense.” Hoseok rolls you into a sharp rebuke, “since when you are so low on your confidence? Did you forget how many guys you had warped around your fingers back in our uni days? Nothing has changed since then. You are still very much attractive and you still have at least two guys all whipped for you.” 

Two guys? Wait! He isn’t referring to him and Jimin, is he?   

“Which two? Show me?” you reply, trying to sit straight on the couch. 

“Us” the hushed word comes out of Jimin’s lips. You whip your head to meet his eyes.

“What? What do you-” 

“You know what we mean, Y/N.” Hoseok says softly. You again turn your head to take the man in. your eyes bore into his darker ones and you realize your usual jolly Hobi is very much serious now. 

“Since when? And both of you? Wait! Don’t tell me you guys have fought over me or something?” Both of them break into laughter at this. 

“Not at all, darling. We aren’t highschool kids. We are grown up men and we know the pleasure of sharing.” Jimin speaks in a very sultry tone and that’s when you finally take a good look at the blonde man. 

Jimin has this gender-neutral charm that can rock anyone off their shoes. You will be lying if you say you are completely immune to those beautiful eyes, smooth blonde hair, perfect set of white teeth, that round juicy booty and especially those plump lips of his. Only you know how many times you imagined the taste of those pink muscles. 

However, that’s it. 

You didn’t think of taking your thoughts any further, especially when you have a big fat crush on your other best friend. 

You have always been on your knees for Hoseok since your university days. But you have always admitted the fact that he is way too good for you. So, you tkept your feelings bottled successfully. 

You might not be a giddy mess around him anymore but doesn't that mean you don’t feel weak for the man, especially when he is sitting right beside you, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and practically confessing that he has a crush on you too?

What the fuck? 

“Sharing? You guys wanna share me? h-how?” you shutter, being completely aware of what you are asking.

Hoseok looks at Jimin and gives him a knowing lopsided smile. 

“You wanna see how? Answer in yes or no.” Hoseok’s aura changes in a heartbeat and the sentence comes out less like a statement and more like an order. 

“Y-yes.” You shutter again.

“Good girl” Jimin whispers right behind your ear, “then you will do as we say, right?” 

“Yes” this time your voice comes out breathy. You already feel heat on your core even though the men haven’t even touched you yet. 

“You trust us, right?” Hoseok voices softly, as he tucks a stary strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah.” another lone word slips past your lips. 

“Let us take the charge then. And tell us to stop whenever you feel like. Okay?” Hoseok’s eyes flood with warmth and darkness at the same time and you don’t know how it is even possible. So you just nod in agreement. 

“Strip.” Jimin says firmly and your eyes go wide.

“W-what?” you ask for confirmation.

“You heard me.” He states. You have never seen Jimin this serious for the entire 8 years of knowing him. You take a look at Hoseok, who seems to be waiting for you to comply with Jimin’s order. 

So you do.

Standing up on your feet, you slip out of your tshirt first, then your pants, then your bra and lastly your underwear. Just when you are about to throw your underwear away, Jimin extends his hand towards you, clearly asking for the article. 

You place it on his palms, embarrassed of the tiny wet patch caused by your impromptu arousal. 

“Bunny, huh?” Jimin chuckles at the cartoon bunny printed on the front side of your panty. He caresses the material for a moment and then takes it to his nose and inhales sharply. You start leaking due to his actions. 

You are way too busy with Jimin that you don’t see Hoseok ravishing your naked form with his eyes. He is very impatient. Finally after 8 years he is about to get the chance to taste you but you are too busy to observe Jimin’s antics. So he tugs at your hand and gains your attention. 

“Lay down, angel, let me have a taste.” Hoseok’s voice dips down a few octaves lower causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

Jimin takes the hold of your upper body and leans it down on the backrest of the couch. Hoseok moves on his feet, sits down on his knees right between your legs. 

Parting your legs gently, he hums in satisfaction, “umm.. Wet already.” 

The way Hoseok eyes your cunt, makes you gush out more arousal. The slick drips down your core causing Hoseok’s mouth to water. 

On the other hand, Jimin starts placing small, wet kisses on your jawline. Even though his position is a bit awkward, that doesn’t seem to bother him. 

His kisses travel down to the south and reach to your cleavage. But before you could react to that you feel a wet muscle testing your slicked slit. You look down to find Hoseok staring straight at you while lapping up your juices rapidly from your cunt. 

Jimin has also started licking at your perked nipples, flicking and biting those to his heart’s content. 

Fuck! It’s too much. Having your tits and cunt eaten out at the same time? A pleasure you never thought you would experience, that too, by your very own best friends. 

Hoseok takes your clit into his mouth while stretching your wet heated hole with two of his fingers right when Jimin digs his fingers into one of your tit and bites your other nipple harshly. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moan out a string of curses. Heads on the cloud, you feel euphoric. What in the world did you do in your past life to deserve this pleasure?

You start clenching around Hoseok’s fingers as he keeps on abusing your clit with his practiced tongue. He knows you are close.. You know it too.  

“Are you gonna cum, angel?” Hoseok whispers. His mouth and nose glistens with your arousal. You nod. 

A harsh slap lands on your wet tit. “Use your words, bunny.” Jimin commands. 

“Yes. yes gonna cum- ah! Fuck!” Hoseok cuts you off mid sentence by twisting his fingers and pressing down on your g-spot. 

And you cum unannounced, on Hoseok’s tongue. He sucks up every last bit of it.

“Look at her, hyung. She drenched you.” Jimin’s tone is sultry, lust drips from it. 

Hoseok chuckles darkly, “think of how much she would cum on our dicks, Jimin-ah!” 

You know they are teasing you and you would fight them usually but right now you are defenseless, in your post orgasm glory and you want them to keep going. 

“Fuck me please.” you murmur, pulling yourself out of your fucked up state, “fuck my cunt and mouth at the same time, please. Please!” you beg. 

They look at each other for a brief moment, coming to terms, Jimin says, “You sure you can take it?” 

“Yes! Yes I can.” your breath gets heavier with the anticipation of their cocks inside you one by one. 

You take one of both of their hands and place those on either of your tits. 

“Fuck me.. Please.” you beg, yet again. 

“Fuck, Y/N. you will be the end of us.” Hoseok bites his lips,as he squeezes your supple flesh, he continues, “On your fours, ass up, right now.”

You oblige. 

Jimin walks behind you and you know, he will be the one to fuck you first. Hoseok stands right in front of your face. He slips out of his bathrobe. His cock stands tall and proud. You start salivating at his sight. 

Talk about length and girth, he got it all. 

Craning your neck you take a look at Jimin. He, too, is naked now. And his cock is literally the most beautiful one you have ever seen. 

Hoseok places his hand on your chin, tilting your head back at him, he mutters, “are you ready, angel?”  

You reply saying yes. 

“Open both of your holes wide of us then.” he commands, you comply. 

Soon your throat and cunt fill with a pair of dicks belonging to you two hot best friends. And you can’t be happier. 

Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.   

#bts smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x you #jimin x you #hoseok x you #bts fanfictions #jimin fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfiction #bts jimin #bts hoseok #bts

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

pairing: aemond targaryen x lannister!reader

warnings: nsfw headcanons at the end SO NOT FOR MINORS, aemond is a good husband, reader has lannister features, breeding kink, spanking, hair pulling, anyways that nasty stuff but not so nasty.

author's note: i aged the green children so, aemond loses his eye at 15/16.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

gif by @alicent-hightowers

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

— brief story:

When you were a child, your father let you under the guardianship of your uncle, Tyland, who was part of the small council of the King.

That was how you met him. You grew up together.

King's Landing was your home, and the Targaryens were your family.

Helaena was like a real sister to you. You really couldn't remember your own.

Aegon had his sick sense of humor, but he never truly bothered you.

And Aemond... his simple existence brought you comfort.

And you did the same for him.

You would always assure him that he'd find a dragon someday.

He'd always compliment your blonde locks.

You had so much in common with the prince, it was like you were made for each other. It was like destiny.

Queen Alicent looked at you as a daughter, since you treated her family so well.

"Mother says I'll be marrying Aegon." Helaena said, playing with her centipede.

You thought the bugs were gross, but you appreciated the way your friend was so fascinated by it.

"That's unfortunate. I love Aegon, but we both know he's not up to marriage." You said, paying attention to your sewing.

"I wish mother could have betrothed me to Aemond. At least he cares about me." Helaena murmured.

Aemond wasn't anything to you but a friend, and you still felt jealous from his sister's words.

"I wonder when will I get married..." You sighed.

"Don't worry, Y/N. A lion and a dragon shares the same heart." Helaena smiled.

You frowned, grinning awkwardly, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Helaena shrugged. You could take a wild guess, but your friend always seemed to talk nonsense.

After the royal wedding, your father took you back with him to Casterly Rock, where he would be finding you a suitor.

You'd still be in touch with Aemond and Helaena, sending letters to know about their well being.

That's how the young prince told you about his eye incident.

That's how you told him about your possible betrothal to the son of Prince Qoren Martell.

Aemond was quick to beg to his parents to make you his wife.

Lord Jason Lannister couldn't refuse the King, even though he wanted to. After all, he was refused by the King's heir, Princess Rhaenyra.

The ceremony had to wait until your first blood.

No one would guess that it would take years for that to happen.

You and Aemond exchanged letters through the years, and you've seen his personality change in it.

Through his words, you saw the boy prince turn into a man.

And after you turned into a woman, at the age of 18, you married the twenty year old prince.

When you saw Aemond for the first time in years, you couldn't recognize him.

Yes, he was missing an eye. But he was so... incredible handsome. A totally different person.

It awaken something in you.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other. I remember how you used to play with the cats around the Keep and... I have a present for you. I hope you like it." Aemond gave you a red box with a golden ribbon wrapped around it.

You chewed on your bottom lip and opened the box, not expecting a feline to jump on your lap out of it.

"Aemond!" You exclaimed with a large smile in your lips, "You're giving me a lion cub!?"

The prince bit back a smiled to your reaction. It made his heart warm to see you so happy.

"He will be trained so he doesn't get violent in the future. You're the first one of your house to have an actual lion. What are you going to name him?"

"Have you seen a lion named dragon?" You wondered.

The prince frowned, chuckling. "Hm, no?"

"Well, me neither! Probably raising a lion is easier than raising a child."

"Let's test that, shall we?" Aemond smirked.

— your relationship:

Aemond is possessive. He doesn't like to leave you alone with any man, especially if the man in question is his brother.

He constantly says that he wants lots of children.

Aemond likes to play with your blonde locks between his fingers.

He hopes for your children to have your hair and his eyes.

Most of your time alone with him, he likes to chase you around your chambers, and play like you're both children.

He misses the lost time with you that your father took from him.

He lets you take off his eyepatch, and leave soft kisses on his scar.

You often says how handsome he is.

He often confesses his love for you.

Aemond is a cold-hearted person with everyone, but you.

— your nsfw relationship:

Aemond is vocal. He growls and moans a lot. And he actually feels really comfortable doing so.

And he notices how your cunt clenches around him when he does so.

He likes to fuck you on all fours. He can easily slap your ass and pull your hair at the same time.

He's obsessed with pulling your hair.

He kisses your arched back, using his hand to play with your clit, watching you turn into a whining mess.

"Can I cum?" You'd ask, having your face smashed against the mattress while your husband is pounding deep into you.

He loves to control your orgasms. And also, to gaslight you.

"I don't know, princess. Can you?" Aemond teased, smacking your ass hard.

And if you cummed without his permission, he'd punish you.

Aemond was trying really hard to get you pregnant.

In the first week as a married couple, none of you left your shared chambers.

He discovered a breeding kink just to the thought of your cunt leaking his cum.

And even when you eventually got pregnant, we couldn't stop fucking you.

Your swollen breasts full of milk, your swollen belly carring his children... everything about it made him hard.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen headcanons #house of the dragon imagines

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Although you reciprocate Sanji's affection, you're not quite ready to let yourself be vulnerable with someone. Love, however, is patient - and Sanji is nothing if not loving.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Ningyo Archipelago earned its name from a rather tragic local legend: about a boy who fell in love with a mermaid, ningyo, but he was deathly afraid of the water. He stood on the shore, making a small step towards the sea each day. And the mermaid patiently waited for him, promising that he had nothing to be afraid of because she was looking out for him. Now, depending on who you ask, some of the villagers claim that the mermaid is still waiting for her lover while others are convinced they have already united. You're not quite sure which version you prefer.

At first, the myth seemed a bit cliche to you - undying, unconditional, selfless love. It belongs in a fairytale, along with leprechauns and a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. After all, no reasonable human is deluded enough to throw away their life for a love that may be. If Hell is paved with good intentions, then empty promises decorate its gates.

But your dismissal of the local legend quickly dissipates as guilt and longing tighten your chest:

Sanji.

You tried to keep him out at first, out of mercy for your own patchwork heart. Told yourself that each of his sweet words and skilfully crafted compliments were a consequence of his persona and not intimate feelings. But no matter how warily you guarded your heart, he still managed to find a way in. Some juvenile, innocent part of you wanted to welcome his affection with open arms, scream at the top of your lungs that you yearn for him in equal measure as he longs for you. However, the other aspect of you, the one that remembers the horrors you've seen and still feels the dread lingering under your skin after... well, everything - that part begs you to keep your feelings at bay or get a grip on yourself and quit this nonsense. What if you open up to Sanji and he finds you gruesome? Will he see your torn heart only to think its baggage too heavy? Or if... the history repeats itself.

No. Never. You can't let it happen again.

But then, you also can't live like this, hidden within yourself forever. You don't want to. Time goes on, yet you're stuck in place.

This fight with your own mind and soul has brought you to this quiet evening by the campfire. Archipelago's natives are most hospitable people, rejoicing at the handful of guests that have come to their shores. A night filled with delicacies, local moonshine, dances you knew no steps of. It all made for a heartfelt, happy celebration. Hours went by, soon energy dissipated and intoxication kicked in. One by one, both your friends and the natives fell asleep.

The last people standing are, as if fortune smiled down on the island, Sanji and you. He's sitting on the ground, back leaning against a log as he stares at the fire, thinking about something. Once in a while, he takes a sip of his drink. The light of untamted, yellow flames waltz across his face. Staring at him from afar, you wonder whether his hair would smell of campfire smoke if you snuggled to his side. Would the colour of his eyes turn closer to indigo in the darkness of the night?

You shake your head slightly. If you want to finally have this much-belated conversation with him, you need to think straight. You can fantasize about Sanji after he gives you a positive answer.

A playful smile enters Sanji's face when he notices you approaching. "Am I drunk or is that really an angel coming my way?" Despite the amount of alcohol he's consumed, he doesn't slur his words.

"More of a Devil's consort," you answer as you sit down next to him on the ground. Thankfully, your half-serious comment covers well your tension.

It's almost self-sabotage on your part that you sat a mere inch away from him. Something about his presence scrambles your thoughts, turning carefully prepared monologue into disjointed daydreams about the man next to you.

"You can lead me astray if you want," Sanji retorts in a low voice. If only he knew how much you'd love to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your chest tightens further. Some primal fear residing in your bones tells you to run away, to discard the love you think you're feeling and stay in your safe, alienated shell. So what if he may be the best thing that has ever happened to you if this heartache he's bound to leave will surely be the final nail in your coffin.

"Right, about leading you..." you begin in a trembling voice.

The fear makes it hard to breathe, which doesn't escape Sanji's attention.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" he asks in a soft, concerned voice as his hand gently lays on top of yours.

You clench your other hand into a fist. The only way out of this situation is through and you're not sure if your both brave and strong enough to make the journey. Your fingernails will surely leave marks on the soft skin on the inside of you palm.

"I'm not oblivious to your advances, Sanji," you finally blurt out. The bluntness of your tone is a little too harsh than you wanted. "You're quite up-front about your feelings. And I..." you hang your voice. The words simply refuse to come out of your mouth as though a witch had put a curse on you.

"No, I get it," he nods along. Sanji's expression falls like he's about to crumble. He clenches his jaw before forcefully making himself continue in a sombre tone. "You don't like me in the same way. It's fine, really. I might die of a broken heart first but I'll be fine."

Dear Gods above and below, this is going way worse than your "What can go wrong?" scenario.

"It's not that, Sanji!" you exclaim suddenly. Equally quick you mumble an apology upon seeing Sanji's startled expression. Then, he furrows his eyebrows further, growing even more worried about you. The adoration and pain in his eyes break something in you. It's as if your consciousness has taken a step back and allowed a flood of words to spill out of your mouth. "I wish I could find the words to express how much you mean to me. That you're the only thing on my mind, day and night. But I've been through shit you don't even know about and I just... I think I need some time before we can act on our feelings."

We.

What a nice word. To be part of a union with another; to belong to someone. To never truly be alone.

The worry disappears from his beautiful, blue eyes. In turn, their expression becomes softer than you've ever seen. Sanji moves the hand that lay on top of yours to intertwine your fingers.

"I'll wait for you," he says casually, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Although you did consider this as a possible outcome, you never actually believed he'd say that. You weren't prepared for someone to be selfless towards you. It's never happened before.

"You don't have to," you try to dismiss him. Everything will be easier, but not better, if he changes his mind. "The world is filled with amazing people, I'm sure there's someone else who will love you better."

"I've already found the one I had been looking for, sweetheart," he answers slowly. Sanji brings your hand up to his lips and places a fleeting, chaste kiss on your skin. The softness of it all makes you want to cry and claw your own heart out. Why does it feel so good and so frightening at the same time?

"I don't know how long it will take me to get comfortable and open up." Your throat is too tight to speak comfortably. Tears pool in your eyes. "To be vulnerable with you."

"I will wait for you for an eternity if I have to. Whatever you need, just ask, little love."

Why does he have to love you beyond reason? Why is it so easy for him to break down your walls?

"I'm not sure I'm worth all this trouble," you whisper your confession into the silence of the night.

"Don't ever think you're a burden," he reprimands you. "You deserve only the best and I will be the happiest man alive if you let me be the one to provide. I love you more than you can imagine. I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Having no strength to hold back, you burst into tears. Is it the relief that he's willing to put up with your fears? Or maybe the happiness that he still chooses to love you? It's hard to say. Your vision is blurry as tears roll down your cheeks. No matter how much you try to control yourself, you can't.

Sanji gently wipes away your tears. His gesture is almost fearful as though the worst thing he could do is force his affection too fast for your comfort. What if he hurts you? In Sanji's mind, there's no greater sin he could commit.

"Can I hold you?" he whispers his question.

"Yes, please," you manage to babble between sniffles.

He puts his hand under your knees and effortlessly places you across his lap. Sanji's arms wrap tightly around your quivering body. His hold feels like a sanctuary.

"Thank you for telling me," he says quietly against your hair. "It was very brave of you."

You don't answer, only further nuzzling into his shoulder. Huh... He does smell of campfire smoke.

#one piece x reader #one piece #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji fanfiction #sanji imagine #sanji fanfic #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji fanfic #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji vinsmoke #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #opla #one piece live action

[weird-is-life]

helloo! okay this might be a long request so buckle up. idea for spencer based off of my day; let it be know that i relate to spence, even if I have a "low" iq, what i mean is, I ramble. and watching people shut down spencer when he's about to rant always made me sad (obviously). but i realized it's because that happens to me. I'm a very geeky person so i get passionate and i understand why people would shut me down (still hurts tho). but today one of my friends asked a question it was about simpler animals and what the difference was. me loving animals and knowing the answer, well I spoke up but immediately got talked over about something not relevant. my real idea is, what if spencer had someone that rambled with him and appreciated his rants. like i think it'd be cute and they don't have to rant about the same thing, just both like in the corner talking absurdly fast together. and the team probably rolling their eyes. maybe??? (sorry if it was to personal) hope you have a great dayyy!!

Hiii lovely, ty for the request💕!! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, like one pet name (0.6k)

Sometimes Hotch kind of regrets hiring you (not really, you're a great  addition to the team and everybody loves you), but when he sees you and Spencer together, the thought crosses his mind.

What he really does regret, is putting your desk and Spencer's desk next to each other. Big, big, big mistake.

You and Spencer are hunched over something at your desk, talking very quickly, as you two often do. Hotch finds your conversations, against his better judgement, cute. But not when he's trying to start a meeting and you two can't seem to notice.

He and the team see this on a regular basis, it's nothing new, that you and Spencer talk and talk about something, anything, completely in your own world.

Your conversations are still the same just like the first time, you and Spencer met. Maybe they got even worse. You two can ramble on and on for hours like it's nothing.

And you love it. You love talking to Spencer. The topic of your conversation is never a problem, you can talk about anything and nothing at the same time.

Just the fact, that you can talk to each other without being talked over, interrupted or hushed down is everything to you and to him.

Spencer feels the same. He loves talking to you. Your sweet, sweet voice makes it even better. He loves even just listening to you talk, it's maybe his favourite thing in the world.

Especially, when you two talk about the most silly, random stuff, while lying in the bed late at night. Chuckling and rambling without a care in the world. Maybe he loves it so much, because the team doesn't know about it. It's like something sacred between just you and him.

That's definitely his happy place, just you two having a quiet conversations with sleepy voices.

"Spence, have you read this book before?" you ask, pointing at the book lying on your desk.

"Oh," Spencer's face lights up with recognition," I have. It's really good, right?"

"I don't know, I haven't started it yet. I want to, but I can't bring myself to read it after a day full of work," you say to Spencer.

"I-I could read it to you?" he hesitantly offers.

"Spence, it's almost 800 pages long...." you chuckle at his offer.

"I don't mind," he quickly responds.

You think about it, but not for too long. You don't really need convincing, not when it comes to Spencer.

"Well, okay then. But only if you really want to," you give him a smile.

"I want to," he reassures you," and i do have some suggestions...."

"Like what?"

"Like books, that are similar to this. If you like this one, I could lend them to you-" Spencer's fast rambling gets interrupted, but not by you, never by you.

"Yo, lovebirds, we'd be very happy to let you talk about whatever nonsense you're talking about, but we all want to have this meeting over with. So if you'd be so kind to join us, that'd be nice," Derek basically yells at you from the conference room's doorway, making everybody in the room look at you and Spencer.

Your cheeks go a bit pink at Derek's words, you haven't realised that they were waiting on you and Spencer.

"Relax Derek, we're coming," Spencer says back loudly, " come on sweetheart, let's go there before they get mad at us," Spencer tells you, rolling his eyes over Derek's words.

"We'll talk about the book more later, yeah?" Spencer promises.

"Later?"

"I could come over tonight?" Spencer unsurely proposes.

"That'd be great, I'd love that," you'd never pass an opportunity to spend time with Spencer and getting to listen to him talk.

Somebody would maybe find reading to each other boring, but you and Spencer would never. It's like your love language.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid

[nateconnolly]

Two sisters lived in a fragrant house. The older sister Ahana worried that a drought might come, but the younger sister Leela was happy to spend all day in the house. 

“Stop looking for something to complain about!” Leela chided Ahana. “The rain will provide for us!” 

But Ahana began to dig a well. It was bitter work. Each morning, Ahana woke before the sunrise, and Leela slept peacefully until noon. 

After the first month, Ahana cried, “You lie here all morning like a lazy dog! Come dig the well with me!” And so Leela and Ahana both woke before the next sunrise. 

But the work was very bitter. 

“The rain will provide,” Leela said after digging for six hours.

“Then go home,” Ahana replied, so Leela returned to the fragrant house. She boiled rice and chicken; she mixed it with salt, turmeric, and parsley. Ahana returned after dark and saw a bowl of food waiting for her. Leela was already asleep: she had gone to bed before the sunset. 

Ahana took a blanket and draped it over her sleeping sister. 

After the second month, Ahana thought to herself, “Why should I continue to dig the well alone?” So she said to her sister, “Come dig the well with me tomorrow.” 

The next day, Ahana woke before sunrise, and Leela woke when the sky turned blue. Leela joined her sister, but the work was very bitter. 

“The rain will provide,” Leela said after digging for an hour, so she returned to the fragrant house. 

Ahana returned after dark. She found a bowl of rice waiting for her, but it had been left out since noon. The food was very cold. 

After the third month, Ahana said, “Come dig the well with me tomorrow,” but Leela stayed home.

After the fourth month, Ahana said, “Come dig the well with me,” but Leela did not look at her. So Leela went to bed long before the sun had set, and Ahana dug long after dark.

While Ahana was gone, Leela grew very hungry, so she ate both portions of the food. 

After the fifth month, Ahana completed the well. She went home and slept until sunset. 

After the sixth month, the rain stopped. Leela said, “Let me drink from your well, or I will surely die,” but Ahana said, “Why should I let you drink from a well that you did not dig? And what good is your rice now that you cannot boil it?” 

After the seventh month, Leela died, and Ahana inherited her rice. Ahana grew very rich. She sold rice and charged neighbors to drink from her well. Rice was so scarce that people would sell their houses just for a single bag. Ahana bought herself golden dishes rimmed with jewels; gems and diamonds from every continent; fine dresses of every color; cool, refreshing lakes, and wide open fields.

But her house was no longer fragrant. She realized Leela must have been burning incense to keep the house smelling nice. Ahana only noticed now that her sister was gone.

The waters of the well were still deep even when Ahana’s hair turned grey, and her joints creaked as she moved. Her memory was like a small cloud in a great storm: tossed about, torn up, and pushed away by the winds of her age. She lost things that she needed. She saw things that weren’t there. 

Ahana walked to the well in confusion. She saw a drowning woman in the well, and she thought to herself in terror, “My sister cannot swim!” 

Ahana jumped into the well to save her sister, but she could not find Leela.

There was only the waters of the deep.

And so, Ahana drowned trying to save her own reflection. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two sisters were married to the same merchant. 

They had grown up in another house beside another field. The older sister was Asha and the younger sister was Labuki. The drought had passed and there was plenty in the land. 

When they were children, Labuki asked, “Where has your well gone?”

But Asha dismissed it, thinking to herself, My sister is a infant. She does not know that what she says is nonsense. She doesn’t understand that I do not have a well. Their mother married both girls to a merchant to secure contracts. Their family would make a fortune selling rice through his trade caravans. 

Asha was his first wife, but he loved her younger sister more. He lavished Labuki with gifts and servants, jewels and perfumes, while Asha lived in a separate house on his property. Nevertheless, Asha was an ambitious woman.

“Surely, if I give my husband a son, he will look on me with favor,” Asha said to herself. But when Asha laid with him she produced a daughter, and she cursed her child for being a girl. Even as she fed the baby, she whispered, “I don’t want you, I don’t want you.” 

Labuki laid with the merchant and produced a son.

Asha laid with the merchant again and produced another daughter.

Labuki laid with the merchant again and produced another son. 

Asha laid with the merchant again and produced another daughter.

Labuki laid with the merchant again and died in childbirth. 

“You are my wife now,” said the merchant. “I give you power over your sister’s sons.”

Asha looked at the sleeping boys, who could not yet understand that their mother was dead. She could send them off into the woods alone. Her daughters would be the sole inheritor of the merchant’s wealth, and Asha would be the sole mother of his children.

“They are my sister’s babies,” said Asha. “They will live here with us.”

Her nephews grew up calling her ‘Mother,’ and she never corrected them. It felt like a lie. Her daughters grew up calling her ‘Mother,’ and that felt like a lie, too.

You can read the rest of this story for free on my AO3 for original fiction.

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