#(i will still be thinking about what could have been even if it never should have been)

[frogsandfries]

AAVE used to bother me. Just bother me, not piss me off, not make me like, wanna kill or anything. Just, why can't they use the language 'properly'.

The woman who raised me was the most racist person I think I've ever met (why no, I have never been to the US south).

But it's funny, because in school, I loved studying the US public school version of how English came to be. We didn't really know about proto-Indoeuropean at the time, but we knew about the influence of ancient Greek and German on the English language. Being a big reader and writer, I was obsessed with using the language "correctly".

I stopped writing for a long time because of reasons, and I was able to step back and really appreciate the value of literacy but also appreciate that there is no Proper English. The thing we skipped over in high school English and language arts classes is that contemporary English is not the same language it was when it first recognizably departed from vulgar Latin and German. It's not the same language as it was before its brushes with French and surely the Celtic language group.

It's okay for spoken language to be different from written language (but it's still "could/should/would HAVE" NOT "c/s/w OF"; pronounce it however you like, but understand grammatically what you're saying if you caption your own videos).

Furthermore, while I'm up here on my soap box, I wish my English teachers would have talked about creoles and pidgins as they are: There's nothing wrong with creoles and pidgins. It is human nature to want to communicate and connect and language is an integral part of that connection. But perhaps telling us that using the language in a non-standard way would have required a whole separate class for like, English theory. It definitely would've had more kids complaining "why do I even need to know the rules if they're all bullshit anyway". Me loudest of all.

Since stepping away from my childhood creative writing practice, I've gotten to participate more in the verbal use of language, and my visual arts studies definitely contributed to the way I see English--a centuries old creole, a language that has always been absorbing and adapting the languages it encounters. The reason I mention my visual arts background is, you know that picture of the vase but it's also two faces? Being strong in written English was me focusing so hard on the vase, I thought people talking about two faces were like, morally decrepit. Slang comes and goes, but the classical core of the language is definitely always there. Definitely. Always.

The internet has been a fascinating component to add to the mix of the English language (being not fluent in any other languages, I cannot and would not speak to the internet's impact on, say, ASL, US Spanish, or French, the only three languages that I'm familiar enough with to try to use on another human). Most of the evolution of the English language has typically come from teenaged girls, if my information is correct. Definitely, unquestionably teenagers. And in the last few years, we see every several weeks, a new slang word--yeet, bussin, ATE (whatever the hell that is)--enters the greater lexicon (we need to be able to communicate with these damn sacrilegious teens somehow!). The world moves so fast for these teenagers, today's 'ate' is literally yesterday's 'crunk'. It's 'cringe', if you will, by the time the adults get ahold of it. We do kind of need to hold onto some kind of core skeleton of the English language so that the oldest and most out of touch of us can still communicate with the linguistically hippest of us. In this regard, at least understanding the 'traditional' use and structure of the language since the shift from Middle English, and not necessarily being versed in prepositions versus passive language, is going to be important when trying to communicate from one group (let's say teens) to another group (let's say Louisiana creole).

And sometimes, the slang the adults get ahold of sticks--in contemporary history 'dude', 'whatever' as a one-word sentence, and 'my bad', are some examples. It's hard to tell which of 2025's slang words will have engraved itself so hard into the fabric of the English language that we're still using it in 2050, but even the words that are here today cringe in five minutes will leave their invisible mark on the ever continuing evolution of the English language.

Umm, anyway, sorry. I got a little eager to celebrate the English language as it actually is, not as it is in classic literature.

Even the teenage, rebellious use of the language (what even the fuck is skibidi??), while it bothers me because these days, it's less about differentiating yourself from boring grown-ups and I'm pretty sure, from a non-linguist perspective, just using language in as incomprehensible manner as possible as a bit. I respect the desecration of the English language; I'm quite confident that's what most of my peers wished they could do in high school English classes when we were learning about dumb, useless shit like superlative conjugates and coagulative transitives or whatever the fuck (for such a strong writer with an easily identifiable written voice in high school, I failed high school grammar. I found it incomprehensible and useless; I already had a powerful grasp of the way to use the English language, out loud and on paper. I didn't need to explain to anybody why you order adjectives the way you do; you just do).

See that, right there? I just did it. I just admitted that I don't find any use for the jargon of the "laws" of the English language. Because language is just a tool for communicating. As long as I can speak to you and you have even generally a vague idea of what I want (like my problem with 'ate' isn't *rolls my eyes* kids these days; my problem is, what is the etymology?? Why are you using that word like thhhaaaatttttttt *tries to shake an answer out of you*), I care less every day how anyone uses the language (except for c/sh/would OF vs HAVE I will bite you).

Now, (okay, sorry to carry on like this) as a creative writer, I am a straight-laced Dr Jekyll. Written language isn't about immediate communication. As far as I'm concerned, written language should be comprehensible between yourself and generations that don't exist yet. A dime novel may be meant to be read and thrown away, but even fifty years later, I should be able to pick up your cheap shitty writing and be able to read it and understand it. As far as I'm concerned, writing should not be littered with the slang of the moment. Like I said, today's 'skibidi' is tomorrow's 'jive turkey'. No, I did not make that up. I actually can't find one singular definition for jive turkey; it looks like there were at least three accepted ways to use it. I think it makes my point for me. If I write that John is a jive turkey, is he out of touch, is he unreliable or exaggerating, or is he being a showy dancer?

In my opinion, if you are educated enough to write essays, blogs, or more, you are educated enough to write in a way that will be comprehended by future generations of people who use your dialect. If that's Australian English (no shade, but you Aussies must know you use English differently from USians), if that's AAVE, if that's Louisiana creole, if that's US English, whatever.

In my opinion, the reason one makes the effort to write words (which is a different level from a Facebook or Twitter post or just making a phone call or sending a text), in a blog that will be gone in five years, in a cheap notebook that maybe you'll throw away, a nice journal that your great, great grand-daughter will find one day, or in that book that you self-published, is to preserve your words, your thoughts, in a way that will outlast 'apple butter' (smooth talk) and 'duck butt' (think Elvis' hair).

Plus, words on paper just should be beautiful. Imo.

not only are there no bad languages there are also no bad or annoying dialects

[atinystaypixie]

A Husband's Present

Summary: It's Kento's birthday and your husband deserves his presents. WC: 2.5k+ CW: 18+, MDNI, Smut, (brief) biting, creampie (with intent of pregnancy)

Kento was the best husband one could ask for. Attentive, understanding, patient. He was a natural provider and made it easy for you to always be in a state of ease. Even when you first started dating, you never had to ask, he would always do. The sink was broken? He was fixing it without a second thought. Tires looking flat? Pumping air in them and going to take you for replacements.

He was romantic as well. Dates were well thought out and never boring. Why go to an expensive restaurant when he knows you prefer picnics with a movie projector? Just because you were a homebody didn’t stop him from showing up with your favorite snacks and making pillow forts. He also loved being in the kitchen with baking. It’s how he proposed to you when he presented you with a cupcake topped with a ring. You still don’t know how he managed to put it on there without you seeing  when you both were decorating at the same time.

You never would have thought such an amazing man would be in your life. It’s why you are planning on creating life with him tonight. You’ve seen the way he’s looked at families lately whenever you two have been out. Along with him being amazing, he was respectful of your body and never wanted to push the topic unless you were ready. You’ve been married for four years now and dated for three. Your biological clock was ticking too and you are more than willing to give him kids. 

It’s why your acrylics were done in his favorite color with his initials, your hair styled in a high ponytail that he loved pulling, and your plump lips glossed to perfect. He would be home soon. Sadly work pulled him away for the day due to his birthday falling on a weekday this year. Awaiting him was his favorite hot meal, go to item from the local bakery, and of course, you wrapped up pretty for him. There was just something about how delicious you looked when dressed for his eyes only. A sacred, precious being crafted just for his touch.

His hands made sure to never leave an inch of you untouched. Gripping at your hips, smoothing over your thighs, fingers pressing into your back. Pink lips pecking at the skin of your neck, molding to your own lips, and whispering endless sweet vows to you. Your mind started to slip off into thought as you stood in the middle of the kitchen thinking of the love your husband never fails to give you. 

The timer on your phone pulls you out of thought with a jump. You tighten your robe and make your way to the stove pulling out the last of the food. It’s getting close to time for him to be getting home so you start setting the plates. It should all be finished as soon as he walks through the door.

Well, it should, but why do you hear the front door opening already? 

“Baby,” the man of the hour comes around the corner, loosening his tie, “I’m home.” He says making his way towards you.

“Kennie, you’re home early. Everything okay?” You ask, kissing his cheek. You’re more than happy to see him, but you weren’t expecting him so soon.

“Mm. I missed my wife, didn’t want to be there anymore.” He says while pulling you closer, arms wrapping around your waist, and lips pressing kisses to your jaw. His hands slide down to the fat of your ass, gripping them. “What’s under here?” A smirk etching itself on his face.

“That’s for you to find out after we eat,” you emphasize the after and slip out of his hold. 

It doesn’t take long for you both to settle in and enjoy the food you made. He tells you about his day and you do the same. It’s obvious he is distracted throughout dinner though. His eyes lingering on your lips as you speak, scanning down to the cleavage peeking from the slight opening of your robe, and some responses are just mere hums and nods. Kento doesn’t care how long you have been together, he will never not be attracted to you.

Once finished eating, you clean up while he goes to shower. It took convincing since he hates not helping you, but you finally got him to go. You needed him to go so you could set up in the bedroom. After all the neverending spoiling he gives you, you at least want to attempt to take control for one night.

Your tall, blonde man finally emerges from his shower with a towel around his waist. The candlelit room and soft music playing makes him smile. If there is anything he loves, it’s the scents that come from you. Whether they are on you or filling the house.

“What’s all this, love?” 

“I wanna take care of you tonight, Kennie. It’s your birthday. Let me show my husband how much I appreciate him.” How can he resist when you are looking at him with those eyes? Your voice causes his heart rate to quicken. 

You have Kento feeling like it’s his first time again. He knew you were his peace and place of relaxation, but you were really working a number on him. Your soft hands worked all the knots out his muscles, leaving occasional kisses in their wake. It wasn’t helping that you now had him on his back and was straddling him. His stomach clenching as you teasingly raked your nails low, close to his hardened dick.

“Kennie, open your eyes. Look at me, baby.” Your voice was soft, seductive. All the touching and teasing alone you have been doing was about to send him over the edge.

“Love, stop teasing me please.” His voice was raspy and eyes were low. You loved when your husband got like this for you. That was all it took for you to hook your fingers in the towel and loosen it exposing his member. It was pretty and long, a darker shade from need, and a strong stance as it laid against his stomach.

You ran a hand up and down it, making him do a sharp inhale. It didn’t take you long to maneuver yourself down with your face in front of it. Kento pried his eyes open in time to see you peppering the underside with kisses. Every touch makes him twitch in your hand causing a seductive giggle to come from you. One thing about Kento is that he would always flip a switch in your brain. You thrived off of his sexual needs, eager to please.

“Fuck, love, are those my initals?”

“Mhm, you like?” He tried, he really did, but he can’t sit back any longer when he’s married to a vixen. 

He sits up, his veiny hand wraps in your ponytail tilting your head back while the other runs a thumb over the designs. “You really know how to mess with me,” his eyes locked on yours, “open.” A simple command that leads to him tapping his tip on your tongue, slowly feeding you his cock. “Good girl - fucckk- good girl,” he breathes out as he guides you down, pushing him to the back of your throat. Your tongue massages him as he finds relief in the wetness. You’ve made it a habit over the years to cockwarm him with your throat and it pays off with how easily you can keep him there. Your mouth is always warm and the moans you release around his length only add to the pleasure.

Kento loves stuffing your throat, the sight always making his balls tighten. It’s a slow, repeated process of pushing in and dragging himself out after a few seconds. He goes in all the way to the base and almost pulls completely out, stopping at the mushroom tip. One hand in your hair and the other cupping your chin, catching the stray tears that fall from your pretty eyes. It’s a beautiful sight having the woman he would die for trust him with her body in such ways.

He pulls out of your mouth tracing his tip over your lips thoroughly running whatever gloss you have left on them. “Let me unwrap you now, doll.” He guides you back up into his lap and undoes the belt to your robe. 

Exposed. You’re so exposed for him. Your perky breast sitting out pretty with the lace accentuating them, your stomach only covered by thin patches of the lace, and your pussy. Your pussy was completely uncovered sitting between the material. It’s easy access, perfection. He knew just how to play your body like a string on a guitar.

“Is this all for me, my love? Hm? Dressing up all pretty for me?” You would answer straightly, but it’s hard when his thumb is swirling your clit just right. “Answer me, doll. Did all this so I could fuck you real good?” It’s just something about the way he looks in your eyes and speaks with that tone that has you attempting to close your legs around his hand. You would be successful if he didn’t have you straddling him still. “Haven’t even done anything to you yet. It’s okay, love, I’ll take care of you.” He pushes the remainder of the robe off your body, throwing it off to the side somewhere.

“Wait,” you whine, “Kennie, I was supposed to be taking care of you.”

“Shh, shh. You know there's nothing I love more than loving on my beautiful wife. Let me enjoy my present thoroughly, yea?” He knew he had you when your eyes glazed completely back over. He laid you down and littered kisses across your face, down your jaw, and stopped at your belly. 

“Baby,” you mumbled.

“I know, I got you.”

“No. I want…I want you to put a baby in there.” You spoke a little louder, but timid making the man pause for a moment. Did you know he had been wanting to have a child with you? Since when did you want kids? Was he hearing things? His brain was trying to process the words. “Kennie, did you hear me? I want to have a baby with you-,” He cut you off with a deep, slow kiss. His tongue is swirling with yours and claiming your mouth as his for the second time tonight. 

“I’ll give you one, don’t worry.” It was all he said before you felt him lower himself again. This man is magic with his tongue and fingers, both were working open your sopping hole. His lips latch onto your clit while his fingers curl deep inside of you. In the process of working him up earlier, you made yourself needy too. You didn’t even need the extra foreplay, but Kento knew just how much your body reacted when his mouth connected to your pussy.

“Cum on my tongue and then I’ll give you everything you want.” His voice was so soothing, it was supportive almost, encouraging you to coat his taste buds in your juices. A few more sucks and curl of his fingers was all it took to have your back arching off the bed and pussy releasing. 

He groans out a collage of curses before sitting up and dragging you closer to him by your thighs. “My pretty wife,” he says while spreading your pussy lips. This is a present he will forever be happy to open. Your folds are all shiny as evidence of your activities, ready to indulge in more. While using his thumbs to hold you open and taking his time to admire you, your soft hand wraps around his length stroking it. 

“I love you.” Another smile blossoms on his face. How did he get so lucky? 

He thrusts forward into your hold a couple of times before removing your hand and interlocking your fingers. “I love you more.” His free hand guides his cock through your folds, the tip pressing against your clit with each one. He doesn’t stop until you whine at him again. He loves when you need him. Both of you are in love with one another needing each other.

He finally lines himself up to you and pushes in. You would think he hasn’t fucked you in months with the way your pussy squelches as it drags him in. “Shit, you’re taking me in so well, baby.” Once he bottoms out, he brings his chest yours, dragging your hands above your head. Both of you are panting as you hold eye contact, a silent conversation between lovers.

Your legs wrap around his waist and he doesn’t hold back from plunging into you. The sloppy musical happening between your bodies is enough to know he’s fucking you with purpose. Knowing he’s working to impregnate his wife gives him a new drive. He’s so deep in you and only pulling his length halfway out with each stroke leaving little breaks between each rush of pleasure you feel. You two are so close that your bodies are almost one. Layers of sweat covering you both as you moan out his name.

There’s a knot forming in your lower belly already making your insides slipperier. “Kennie,” your breath out. 

“Let go, baby. I got you.” He feels your fingers grip at his harder, the squint of your eyes and raise of your voice almost push him over the edge. Your gummy walls pulse around his member letting him feel every second of your release. He slows his thrusts working you through it while muttering sweet words into your ears.

When he sees you coming back down some, he raises up from you and puts both of your legs over his shoulders. “Saw that this was a good position to ensure pregnancy.” Your fuzzy brain barely has time to think about what he said before he is speeding up his thrusts again. He looks down to see his cock coated in white as he moves in and out of you. His hands have found home on your hips, his head turning to the side to kiss at your calf. Kento is getting close and you can tell from the way he brings your leg closer and sinks his teeth into the skin trying to hold on.

“I’m so close, baby. So close.” He rasps out feeling his balls tighten. Your pussy working to milk him. 

“Come on, Kennie. Fill me all up.” That’s all it takes for him to explode, hips stuttering and broken moans falling past his lips. You lower the leg he isn’t holding and sit up some to reach at his dick. Your fingers massage the amount that isn’t stuffed in your cunt making him rock back and forth from sensitivity. 

When he finally calms down, his eyes land on you. He places your leg to his side and pulls you up by the neck for a sloppy kiss. 

“Happy Birthday, Kennie.”

“Thank you, baby,” he smiles and kisses you again, “but I’m not done enjoying my present yet.” Kento was going to keep you here all night until he felt you were stuffed enough with his cum.

✨

Pixie’s Flying 🧚🏽‍♀️

This a repost! I posted this back in July but it never showed up in tags! Hopefully it shows up this time and you can read and enjoy it🥹

ENJOY! Reblog, like, and comment💜!

Pixie’s Masterlist

[atlabeth]

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep. 

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night. 

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you. 

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI. 

But then there’s also… you in general. 

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about. 

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his. 

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him. 

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one. 

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again. 

That bums him out even more, though. 

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back. 

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear. 

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles. 

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on. 

“Gideon?” he asks again. 

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.” 

His blood goes cold as the words finally register. 

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker. 

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words. 

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger. 

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time. 

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.” 

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance. 

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you? 

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this? 

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along. 

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You. 

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous. 

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here. 

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear. 

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion. 

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” 

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours. 

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say. 

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.” 

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear. 

“I’m assuming you heard that?” 

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?” 

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.” 

“...Good.” 

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls. 

“I’m not—” 

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway. 

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him. 

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.” 

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip. 

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.” 

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips. 

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.” 

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door. 

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather. 

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking. 

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well. 

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger. 

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus. 

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about. 

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it. 

“What the h—” 

“Footprints,” he whispers.  “Th— they’re almost gone, but—” 

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm. 

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.” 

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—” 

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks. 

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters. 

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!” 

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here. 

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.” 

“He was watching us—” 

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.” 

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this. 

“Just look at me,” he says softly. 

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else. 

“Breathe with me.” 

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge. 

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Better,” you murmur. “I—” 

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him. 

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.” 

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background. 

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay. 

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.” 

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.” 

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more. 

“Gideon?” 

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.” 

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says. 

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—” 

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts. 

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.” 

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.” 

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest. 

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets. 

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka. 

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open. 

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.” 

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.” 

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.” 

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug. 

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear. 

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments. 

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.” 

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.” 

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one. 

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real. 

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.” 

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—” 

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.” 

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all. 

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired. 

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite. 

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.” 

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.” 

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket. 

“What’d he want?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.” 

“It’s not good for you.” 

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.” 

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.” 

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead. 

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.” 

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.” 

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?” 

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say. 

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.” 

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks. 

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.” 

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.” 

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate. 

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you. 

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there. 

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse? 

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.” 

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.” 

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says. 

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it. 

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you. 

-

“Very cozy,” you say. 

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds. 

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.” 

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.” 

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.” 

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.” 

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around. 

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth. 

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up. 

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.” 

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?” 

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug. 

“Okay.” 

He blinks. “Really?” 

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.” 

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.” 

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

You chuckle. “Still fighting.” 

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to. 

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything. 

“What a day,” he mutters. 

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.” 

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.” 

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.” 

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.” 

You pause. “You’re… probably right.” 

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?” 

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.” 

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.” 

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.” 

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.” 

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.” 

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.” 

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.” 

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.” 

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?” 

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.” 

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?” 

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science. 

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”  

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows. 

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.” 

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position. 

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.” 

 “Of course,” he agrees. 

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science. 

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate. 

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.” 

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance. 

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.” 

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.” 

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.” 

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?” 

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything. 

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you. 

It’s ironic. 

“Me too,” he eventually manages. 

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good. 

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible. 

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone. 

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep. 

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

[chrollohearttags]

hard to breathe • portgas d. ace

seeing your ‘ex’ boyfriend ace one last time for closure..or so you thought. (based off of this song I’ve been obsessed with for months. It’s ‘old’ but I felt like it fit him and the vibe of this fic)

📝: black fem!reader, lots of relationship angst, modern au, heavy kissing, arguing + lots of dialogue, they’re slightly toxic ( y’all both ain’t shit I’m sorry 😭), riding, car sex, dirty talk, breeding, baby trapping (kinda), infidelity, hair pulling, pet names and daddy used, crying

wc: 4.1K

🎙️: I love writing my faves in a bunch of different scenarios, including ones that aren’t typical for their personality. This is in no way condoning toxicity, infidelity or anything of the sort. I just thought it would be a lil fun to experiment.

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“Where are you right now?”

“I should be with you..”

“You know that’s not a good idea..”

“Yeah, but it’s what we both want..who cares if it’s wrong or not?”

3:30am

the deep drawl on the other end of the line luring you in with each word..it always had a tendency to do so, even when you wished you could just ignore it.

“Ace, what the hell do you want from me? Stop this.”

“C’mon, babe. It’s the truth. Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty..what did I tell you? You’ve got to stop giving so much a damn about what other people think.”

“Go to hell. Not everyone can just mistreat people like it’s nothing.”

it was a shame honestly..this type of behavior was so unbecoming of both of you. A sweet girl who didn’t like to make much of a fuss for anyone or over anything. And him, the shining example of a stand up guy. Charming, kind, helpful, a little rough around the edges but what every man should strive to be. Yet here you were..whispering into the speaker of your phone as to not wake the one in the room next to you. A mere replacement to dull the ache in your heart caused by him and his stupidity. Meanwhile, he was chuckling in your ear. Seemingly teasing you because he could sense the tension in your shaky voice. He knew you’d bolt the second you heard a ruffle from the other room…but he also knew you’d never hang up. Knew you couldn’t resist answering in the first place and for damn sure, that you couldn’t resist his offer…

“I want to see you. I can be at your place in ten..”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s late, Ace..and—“

“And what? Afraid your little boyfriend might wake up? I know it’s not because you don’t want to see me either.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? How dare you? You ended things, Ace. Not me. So why the fuck do you keep hitting me up?”

the line would fall silent for a moment..only the shallow echoes of your breath captured on the opposite end. That was until you’d hear a sigh and his voice once more. This time with a much less arrogant tone.

“Listen, (y/n)..I get it. I fucked up..it’s my fault things turned out this way and I’m sorry. I know I can’t go back or change anything that happened between us but I can try to make it right. Even if it means someone else gets to do what I couldn’t…I just wanted a chance to apologize. In person…which I should’ve been man enough to do from the jump.”

the things in question? Your relationship..a bond of three years to be exact and a union everyone was certain would end in the two of you walking down the aisle. However, life has a funny way of throwing even the biggest of curveballs. This man had all but swept you off your feet one night a few summers ago..both out with friends and enjoying the night life as young singles should. Drinking, laughing and having a blast. Even though you were a bit more on the reserved side, he still managed to spot you out of all the beautiful women in that club that night. And trust, a fair share of them had been vying for his attention. Even so, he couldn’t focus on anyone but you. That was one of Ace’s many wonderful qualities. In a room full of people, he managed to make you feel special..as if you were the only one there. Which wasn’t exactly intentional..his biggest issue was that he tried to be friendly, trying his hardest not to hurt anyone’s feelings anymore. He struggled with his anger quite a bit when he was younger, taking next to nothing to set him off and if he was in the midst of conversation with one person, it was best that no one else tried to interrupt. However, he realized that only caused trouble so he always tried to greet someone regardless. It just didn’t fare very well when it came to women. No girl wants someone that it seems everyone can access to!

But alas, you sat in that section next to him; nursing your drinks and exchanging pleasantries. He was so easy to talk to. He had this awkward yet charming charisma about him. Almost as if despite his good looks, he wasn’t the ‘ladies man’ you’d peg him to be off first glance. Somehow though, he managed to get your number and the rest was history. You began hanging out, going on a couple dates..even spending a weekend together after a bad storm trapped the two of you inside of his apartment. You really enjoyed being around him and as time passed, the bond grew stronger. Six months later, you came over to visit and found yourself greeted by smoke and an obviously frustrated Ace covered in soot..a result of him attempting to cook a dinner to formally ask you to be his girlfriend! It was those goofy yet sweet gestures that made you adore him.

perfectly flawed was the best way to describe him in your book…maybe he made mistakes and maybe he didn’t come from this picturesque family but he was a damn good guy doing his best to be better than what he was used to. He was a hard worker and willing to fight for what he wanted.

You cherished every moment you guys got to spend together and at one point, you even got matching tattoos of half hearts on each of your hands..however, things began to crumble in the once ideal world you had curated together.

going from laughing all the time to petty arguments that seemed intentional. From spending late nights together..making love until the sun shines over your bodies..now you were blowing up his phone to see where he was. You began to suspect that he was cheating. Perhaps somewhere with another woman. But you were wrong..truth be told, he was running.

running away from a healthy home and relationship because he didn’t know how to handle it. Didn’t know how to process being loved unconditionally without expecting the worst to happen…he never figured himself to be good enough for you to begin with but here you were..constantly showering him with affection; buying him gifts, making his favorite meals and even surprising him with massages after long, stressful days at work. You were everything he didn’t deserve! Hence why..he felt the need to blow it up before it could escalate. He couldn’t let you continue treating someone like him as if he were special. Three weeks later, he texted you asking to break up and to say you were devastated? Was an understatement. You loved this man so damned much, you had already begun looking at wedding dresses and contemplating baby names, figuring you guys were in this for the long run. But fairy tales don’t exist and you weren’t getting the story book ending. Instead, you were left heartbroken..trying to piece yourself back together and figure out what went wrong.

“Just one last time, that’s all I’m asking. I want to say I’m sorry and then I’m out of your hair for good, I promise. I won’t bother you ever again..”

a solid compromise, you supposed. Besides, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to look him in his eye and tell him to go fuck himself for how he fumbled you. He’d plead, calling your name until he got a response and finally:

“I’ll be in the lobby, call me when you get here.” Before disconnecting the line and releasing a heavy sigh. You fought back tears but in order for the next chapter of your life to begin, you had to finish this one. But the funny thing about some books…

is that they refused to remain closed!

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page break bc I don’t do filler

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“..it’s nice to see you again. You look beautiful as always—“

“Enough of the small talk. State your business and make it quick.”

the two of you sat parked outside of your luxury apartment complex, downstairs in the desolate parking garage. Your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner and his stretched across the steering wheel..that goofy snark on his face as he kissed his teeth. He knew you were fighting so hard to stand firm in your boundaries, something you struggled with in the past. And truthfully, he hated to disrupt that peace…but he was selfish, gluttonous even. He wasn’t always this nice guy everyone saw him as. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too and if that meant he’d leave your head a mess once again then so be it. A fucked up sentiment but the truth nonetheless..

“…damn. It's like that then? Fair enough..”

turning in his seat, Ace shifted and focused his attention directly on you. It was hard to maintain eye contact because how could he face you after such a betrayal? Even so, this was his bed he made and it was time to lie in it.

“The truth is...I was afraid. One day, you’d wake up and realize that I wasn’t what you thought I was. That I was broken and I didn’t have my shit together. It’s like no matter what I did in my life, I found a way to fuck it up. Make a mess of things..I’m not like you, (y/n). Honestly, what could you possibly see in me? Don’t you want someone who’s your equal?”

by this time, tears were beginning to swell in his eyes as well. The more he spoke, he realized that these feelings of insecurity were always within him. You promised yourself that you were just going to give him a piece of your mind, storm out and never have to see him again. But it was never that easy with this man.

you knew he was genuine and not just trying to victimize himself. He honestly felt like you could do so much better. But he also knew by the look in your eyes that you were not going to let him get away so easily.. You didn’t hate him, hell, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fully get angry with him for what he did. Looking down, Ace would begin to chuckle; a weird coping mechanism for him in times of stress and uttered the last words you wanted to hear.

“And after all this time, all the bullshit I put you through..you still love me, don’t you? That’s the only reason you’re still sitting here..the only reason you didn’t hang up. When you’re done with something, you never give it a second thought.” sitting cross armed, you’d begin to laugh. Not at his hurt but at the fact that for the first time in almost five years of knowing him, you saw him show genuine, raw emotion. You saw him finally let down his guard and be himself…as sad as it was, it was a bit cathartic.

“Wow…so you are capable of communicating your feelings and there isn’t a ten foot wall of bullshit in that head of yours.” Poking the side of his temple playfully..

“Of course I love you. I never stopped, you inconsiderate jackass. What did I ever do to you? That’s all I could ask myself. You keep talking about me deserving better and all of this bullshit..who gave you the right to decide what I wanted and what I deserve? Shouldn’t I have a say too? You left because it was easy, Ace. Instead of working through it with me, you ran because you don’t want anyone thinking you’re weak. That’s not how relationships work..we’re supposed to see each other at our worst, our best..good and bad days. If you feel insecure about anything, you did it to yourself because you were perfect to me and you know damn well I never made you feel anything less than.”

those words stung like none other. And honestly, no matter what he said, there wasn’t a good enough excuse for any of his behavior. You said it best..he was selfish, immature and didn’t think clearly. Ace had a knack for marching to the beat of his own drum and damn the consequences.

“..you’re right, (y/n). It’s my fault..and I can’t take any of it back…” suddenly, you’d feel his hand clutch the top of your own, intertwining your fingers as he stared you in the eye.

“..but I can try to fix it. Fix us..let me make this right. Please…if you’re happier with someone else, then there’s nothing I can do. But—“ In that moment, (y/n) had finally heard all that you could take. Reaching over the console, you’d clutch his face in your palm and shove your lips together. The sensation of that warm kiss sent a surge throughout your body..a spark you hadn’t felt since the day he left.

“Are you done? God, I swear you talk too damn much.” Prompting him to laugh as you held the side of his face. He was a little taken aback by your sudden dominance. Not knowing you to ever take control like this but he wasn’t mad about it one bit..

“..why’d you kiss me? What about your boyfriend?” A question as disrespectful as it was rhetorical.

“You’re as dumb as you are cute sometimes. You think I came all the way out here at three am to chit chat? Nut uh, you owe me..also, you’re a greedy bastard. No way you’re letting me go back in that apartment unless it’s with you." By this time, your hands were roaming his chest and your faces were only inches apart. His lips would curl into a sheepish grin before his palm snaked to the back of your neck, tugging your head towards him.

“..what can I say, babe? I’m just too damn stubborn..I always have to get my way.” And with that, you’d find your tongues joined together again. Twirling around one another with heavy whimpers mixed in. Suddenly, you’d find yourself crawling into the driver's seat and onto his lap. Just as you’d suspected, he’d worn those gray sweats you’d always loved to see him in and a black tank top to display his muscles, along with a newly acquired tattoo.

This man was not slick at all! Even so, his little tactic worked because all those memories of late nights and early mornings with him came rushing back. When you’d find yourself sneaking out on lunch breaks at work just to come eat his dick up or when he’d show up at your apartment around midnight because he’d work the closing shift again. With a bottle of wine and the intention of putting you through the mattress in every position after two glasses got you turned on. It was always exciting and spontaneous with Ace, something your ‘new man’ lacked. Slowly winding in his lap as you continued to make out, (y/n) caressed his torso..missing the familiar touch of his skin, taking in the scent of his cologne and immersing yourself in him. He’d run his thumbs across your throat, gently squeezing as you took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful..I missed you.” “Yeah? You missed me, baby?” Teasing him as you bounced your ass against his crotch, subtly twerking on his visible bulge. Caressing your gentle fingertips across his freshly shaven jawline. You could feel him growing harder underneath him and knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Even kissing on his neck and licking on his jugular. “Mmmm..fuck. Pull that dress up and I’ll show you just how much.” Without a single bit of hesitation, you lifted the hem and allowed your bare cheeks and slit to graze him. Shuffling around underneath you, Ace slid his thumbs into the sides of those sweats, letting them pool around his waist. Meanwhile, he couldn’t stop marking your neck and lips with tender kisses..or apologizing for how stupid he was! Being here with you again brought back a flood of memories and emotions..ones that he never wanted to lose again. He needed this to be real once more. However, you weren’t much for talking right now..if he wanted to win his girl back, all you needed were actions.

“Why are you still talking? Just fuck the shit out of me before I grow a conscience and change my mind.” Your command being heard loud and clear; forcing him to grip your waist and balance you above that aching tip. Swollen red and seeping with precum, he was eager for you and that warm cunt was welcoming him in.

“Yes ma’am..whatever you say.” Following up his remark with a toothy smirk so you knew he was going to deliver and give you exactly what you were looking for. (Y/N) reclined against the steering wheel for a moment as he slowly infiltrated that entrance. That core drooling as he made home inside of you. Both of your heads fell backwards in a haze of pleasure…enjoying the all too familiar feeling of being one!

“Shiiit..why are so fucking tight? Oh my gosh..” those breathy moans and whines escaped his mouth the second he began thrusting. Not even two pumps in and he was trying to maintain his composure. With you though, he failed pretty quick. Reacclimating to the warmth that was your insides was going to be a challenge. Even so, he’d continue to guide you up and down on his shaft, letting that thick cock stretch open those wet folds.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take this dick…just like that..” Meanwhile, (y/n)’s mouth fell ajar, overstimulated by the sensation already. You’d paw at his chest, holding onto him as he maneuvered you to his liking. Using your body like that of a flesh light. “’s so good. Missed this big fucking dick.” Hearing those words elicited another chuckle from Ace, prompting him to cradle the back of your neck in a dominant manner, pulling you close. “Yeah? Your little boyfriend ever fuck you like this?” Questioning through clenched teeth as he continued guiding your lower half..

those soft insides wrapping around him with each stroke. You’d then feel the tight clutch of his hand on the back of your head, tugging at those freshly styled wefts coursing down your back..he was aware of the minute fortune you spent each month to upkeep your beauty. From the thousand dollar hair appointments, nail salon visits and waxes..even so, he didn’t give a damn! Turning his gorgeous girl into a sloppy slut was his favorite pastime. A toothy grin on his face, watching your swollen tits bounce and drool seep from the corners of your mouth, along with the loud moans following suit.

“..I’ll take that as a no. You’re squeezing me like you haven’t come in ages, babe.” Those taunts harbored more truth than you’d care to admit. As shameful as it was to be cheating, you’d never be happy with someone who couldn’t give you a nut! Hypocritical as it was abhorrent, you too would never be satisfied until you got what you desired. And that desire was the guy slamming balls deep up inside of you at the moment. Pounding that sensitive little core..letting that fat mushroom tip split you open and begging for that sweet cunt to siphon him for every last drop of cum he had. “You’re fucking dripping..you must’ve needed this bad. Goddamn..” referring to the creamy release you had drizzling his cock. Making a mess of his lap. “Y—yeah..you’re the only one who can make me cream like this.” Cock drunk and giggling as he catapulted you up and down. The vehicle began to sway due to the heavy activity taking place and the windows also began to fog up as a result. That’s when you’d feel his palms colliding with your asscheeks, egging on your bouncing. It was in the midst of those heavy handed smacks that he’d begin pleading his remorse. Telling you how sorry he was for how he mistreated you. As cute as it was, you weren’t interested in any half assed apologies, but rather….

”…if you’re really sorry, you’ll nut in me. This is your pussy so act like it..” Uttering those words with a wide smile on your face whilst meeting his strokes with heavy bounces..nearly made Ace convulse. He loved when you spoke to him in such a domineering manner. You’d feel a sudden twitch inside of you and his hands guiding you as you slammed down on that cock. Your cheeks grazing the outer rim of the steering wheel..both of you so close to your peak that you’d claw into one another’s skin.

Covered in a sheen of sweat and saliva..begging the other to get you there and revealing all of your deepest confessions for one another..including the fact that he wanted you to be his forever and that you weren’t leaving this parking lot without him. You’d clearly chosen who you wanted to be with.

“…damn right it’s my pussy, princess. I don’t care who you bring home. You belong to me and I belong to you..no one else can come between that. Ever again.”

not to mention..you were begging for his cum yet again. You’d often divulge in the throes of pre-climatic bliss that you wanted to have his kid..be so full of his seed that there was no way you weren’t pregnant and Ace certainly had no objections to it. Maybe it was the sensation of being cream pied or the fact that you really wanted a family with him. Either way, he constantly fantasized about seeing you full with his seed; how adorable you’d look with a bump and he just couldn’t maintain his composure.

“Yes..please come in me. Want your baby—“ having to laugh again at how cute and pathetic you were becoming. But alas, there was no room for shame right now. You’d plead with your last breath to feel that womb stuffed again.

“That right, gorgeous? Does my pretty girl want me to get her pregnant?..” “Yes, nut in this fucking pussy, daddy. Please!” certainly a far cry from the headstrong woman who was yelling at him before. Now, you were reduced to a desperate little cumslut, pleading to be bred. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. After experiencing your second orgasm in close succession, Ace would pin you down and force his cock up into you, going as fast as he could muster. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna take every drop. You’re going to have my baby and I’m going to take such good care of you both. Gonna marry you—be a better man this time around..” That soft flesh ricocheting as a result..loud grunts and curse words filling the car as he prepared to do the same to you.

“M fucking coming, babe! Hold still—shit!—“ in that moment, that orgasm would rip through his body and just as you requested, all of his warm seed coursed through your insides and didn’t stop for a solid two minutes..having not had a proper orgasm since you guys split up. He was still twitching inside of you, holding you to his chest as you both cried from how amazing it felt. Tears on both of your faces as a result of ecstasy.

“Damn, I guess I wasn’t the only one who needed that.” Teasing him amidst your cute giggles. Leaning up, (y/n) kissed the tip of his nose and caressed his cheek..unable to believe that you were here with him again. He’d gently stroke the side of your face as well..glaring at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much. I never thought I’d get the chance to tell you that again. Feels so good.” And you shared his sentiment. He was the only one it ever felt genuine from and damn sure, the only guy you meant it to. Any guilt or shame had long since absolved and you knew this was exactly where you should’ve been. ”I love you too, Ace. I’m so glad you showed up.” It was going to be a long day, as you had some explaining to do. But for now..

“Shit..he’s calling me.”

“Ignore it..let me hold you a little bit longer, okay?”

you wanted to remain in this moment for as long as possible. After all, this is where you were happiest and there was no one who’d give you the high that he could.

[revelboo]

Would it be ok to request another valentine's one shot (can be spicy or fluff)? I dumped a guy a few weeks ago and I'd love to read more about mechs and valentines day 🫶🫶 Maybe ES/Prime Bumblebee or Jazz? Or any mech that's more into human culture could be cute.

Sure!

Valentines Oneshot-Bumblebee

Earthspark Bumblebee x Reader

• “And I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ve got this,” Bumblebee says, smiling to take the sting out of the rejection as he holds up his hands. Besides, he remembers the Malto family’s attempt to help Megatron plan an outing with his human and Robbie’s date. “Um, Dot, please don’t tell Alex.” Because the last thing he needs is her spouse deciding to help him. And the woman just arches her brows at him, shaking her head. Would really love for her to say the words. To make it clear she’s not going to let slip his plans to her husband, but she’s heading into the house leaving him standing there.

• Head lifting at the sound of your car pulling into the driveway, it’s stupid to resent your car. But he still does. Has thought more than once about something destroying it or if it mysteriously gets stolen. He could drive you anywhere you needed to go. Keep you tucked safe inside him instead of in that death trap. Because, really, if that car just disappeared he’d be doing you a favor, right? Spark warming when you park and slide out, you offer him a little smile and he lifts a hand.

• “Someone’s all shiny today,” you tease as you walk over and his smile becomes sheepish. Wait, did he wax his paint just for you? Unsure what that might mean, you self consciously tuck your hair behind an ear as he kneels and offers his hands. Not grabbing you, but giving you the option to let him pick you up. And there’s no hesitation, stepping closer and putting yourself into his care. Those warm servos cradling you as he stands with you and holds you tucked against his chassis then walks out past the barn and into the woods.

• “This okay? Just us?” He asks as you lay a warm palm against him, head tipping back as the sun through the leaves dapples you and you look half unreal. “Anywhere you want to go?” Carrying you to the stream he’d found out in the woods feels so inadequate suddenly. It’d been so pretty when he’d found it, had immediately thought of sharing it with you, but maybe he should have let Dot help him. Give him advice on courting humans. Because he’s sure he’s messing up. Boring you.

• Inhaling as he breaks through the trees, you hear the water before you see it glittering in the sun. And it’s idyllic here, birds singing hidden in the branches. Quiet away from the noise and chaos of the Malto kids even though you adore them. “It’s beautiful out here,” you breathe, patting your hand urgently on him when you see some deer. ‘Yeah,’ he agrees. ‘Beautiful.’ And you realize when you look up that’s he’s just staring at you. Saying you’re beautiful as everything shifts between you, and you’re warming at the feel of those blue optics watching you. Aware of him in a way you’d never been before.

[akutasoda]

all for you

synopsis - they'll always love you so dearly

includes - mydei, anaxagoras, phainon

warnings - gn!reader, maybe ooc, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.5k

a/n: what is this? i couldn't tell you- at best it's a silly little piece i thought of the other day ;;

mydei ★↷

mydei stared you down with a scowl.

all you could do was ignore his scowling and continue on with your task, which was easier said than done as even after all this time, mydei still had a glare that still could affect you - at most it gave you a slightly discomfited feeling but you could always dismiss it.

it wasn't uncommon knowledge that mydei often put himself in uncertain situations, always with a confidence that made it seem like nothing to him. whether that was a result of his own curse or the years of experience he had with those same scenarios was an equal guess.

regardless of which, namely the former, mydei occasionally faced some particularly tricky situations which would result in your worrying.

it was hard not to, even if you were well aware of his curse, the idea of him getting hurt was still enough to bubble some concerns of yours to the surface. mydei always insisted he was fine but that was never enough to soothe your worries.

you continued to make an effort to check for any outstanding injuries that he still may have sustained, none of any potentials would've been fatal but you still wanted to make sure there was absolutely nothing.

if anything, it was almost routine at this point. mydei would get into some kind of altercation and immediately seek you out afterwards. no matter how much he acted like it was a bother or claimed it was unnecessary, he always sought out comfort in your embrace, entrusting you with seeing him at his lowest.

“you worry about me too much” mydei's scowl barely wavered, his eyes still constantly looking at you and only you

you fought back a scoff, “if you're aware then you should watch that heedlessness of yours”

mydei studied your face, taking note on the seriousness you portrayed. he'd be lying if he didn't think your concern for him was endearing, even throughout the constant reminders to you, he found it somewhat charming that you still bothered to care for him in that sense.

there was a few moments of silence before mydei broke the standoff. it was his turn to scoff at you as he abruptly pulled you into a hug with little resistance on your end, “fine, but no promises”

you knew that was the best that you would get from him in words.

anaxagoras ★↷

a long sigh was drawn out from you as your eyes flicked over to observe what anaxagoras was doing - it didn't shock you to see that he was doing exactly the same as what he was doing the last time you checked.

you couldn't exactly recall how long it had been since you'd idly sat beside him. originally your plan was to simply pay anaxagoras a visit as you were passing by, but while you dropped by he had informed you that he was finishing up soon so he'd leave with you. so you saw no harm in complying and waiting around for him.

although, looking back, you realise how foolish of a decision it was. whether it was anaxagoras having a different concept of what “soon” meant, or it was a case of him getting too engrossed back into his work, you weren't too sure. but whatever it was, it was now the cause of your boredom as you waited.

you'd waited too long for him by now to simply turn away and leave without him - you'd made a much earlier attempt but anaxagoras had stopped you, reassuring you he'd be finished some time soon, another case where more insistence on your end would've saved you from waiting longer.

in complete honesty, you never understood anaxagoras.

he always struck as the type of person who much preferred his own company rather than others and it certainly stood true in quite a few cases. anaxagoras also always made it very clear that he had little tolerance for those who held little competence and broke the rules he always went on about.

perhaps it was the fact that you never broke any of those rules that was the reason why he didn't mind you hanging around.

“if you have time to stare, then you have time to talk” anaxagoras's voice snapped you out your daze “speak what's on your mind”

it took a moment to formulate a response on your end after being abruptly caught off guard, although all you managed to get across was a short response claiming it was nothing major - something that was met by a glower on the scholar's end.

anaxagoras soon followed up by announcing that he was finally finished, making a vague signal for the two of you to leave and you joined him. you filled the spot beside him but for some reason, your previous train of thought was still occupying your mind.

after a brief moment you decided there was no harm in asking, which led to you poising the question about why he insisted on you waiting around for him.

he paused for a moment, looking over to you and stopping in his tracks, something you mimicked in turn,

“that's because you're more favourable to me, a preferable appearance in my life”

you looked at him in disbelief, while it certainly was a conclusion that you did entertain on occasion, the idea that anaxagoras did see you as a potential friend, but you always assumed that was too far fetched so being an acquaintance of his was enough for you.

he looked at you, a quizzical almost judgemental look reflected upon his features,

“i thought it was common knowledge for you”

all you could do was stare vacantly at him still, his words still barely processing in your mind as you watched him leave - the rare, sincere smile that fixed its way onto his face going completely unnoticed by anyone.

phainon ★↷

you'd been assisting aglaea throughout the day, a few jobs here and then that needed to be done but nothing too major.

more frequently as the day progressed however, you caught aglaea stopping occasionally, almost as if she was checking for something but anytime you asked if everything was alright she would brush it off and continue on as normal.

you believed her at first as you had no reason to doubt her but soon you found yourself feeling a pair of eyes on you sometimes, coinciding with aglaea stopping in her duties. it happened too frequently to be a pure coincidence but you still attempted to brush it off as you doubted it was anything of concern considering how aglaea kept brushing it off as well.

but eventually you caught her smiling a bit, a smile that felt more knowing than you would've liked - almost as if she knew something you didn't.

you soon observed aglaea delighting in your apparent obliviousness as she began making audible comments to you ranging from “did you see that?” to “do you really have no clue?”

in some sense, it was starting to creep you out as each time left you more questions and unease than answers. thankfully, eventually, aglaea decided to ease your worries with the next time she sensed it, she stopped and so did you, aglaea moved closer to you before talking in a hush,

“he's looking at you again”

arguably that creeped you out more but your gaze followed the direction she was pointing in and suddenly it all became clear again.

not too far from where you were, phainon was watching you. as soon as you locked eyes with him, phainon gave you a sincere smile and waved quickly before looking away and walking off.

you looked back to aglaea, “has he been doing that the whole time i've been with you?”

she hummed slightly in agreement, “most likely, he probably just wants to check up on you without interrupting” aglaea paused for a moment, “besides he has his own tasks to attend too”

you looked back to where he was a moment ago, the spot now vacant, now you were determined to catch him again.

a task that proved to be rather easy now that you knew what was going on as not too long after you caught him again, phainon then giving the same response as before before disappearing again. in a way it was sweet, the idea that he was watching to make sure everything was okay with you and presumably wanting to see you throughout the day without interfering.

after all, phainon always cherished being by your side, complete infatuated with your presence.

additionally it became very clear that phainon was mainly doing so because he clearly missed your presence, which was confirmed from the moment you departed from aglaea for the day and phainon took the moment to show up again. taking your hand in his with the biggest smile he'd shown all day.

[littleslaywrites]

back to school | aaron hotchner x reader

nsfw, mdni 

based on this request

summary: your return to grad school plants a fantasy in hotch’s mind.

word count: 2k

cw: smut, f!reader, age gap, soft dom!hotch, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), biting, brief fingering (f!receiving)

You had been working as a nanny for the Hotchners going on three years now. After you completed undergrad, you felt unsure about the path you wanted to take, and ended up working for Aaron. It started out professional, but he became harder to resist as time went on. You’d started dating six months later. Aaron was always a gentleman, scared to ask you out at first, especially considering your age gap. But his profiling skills came in handy, quickly figuring out that your crushes were mutual. 

Your relationship had grown over the past two and a half years. You loved your job, and you loved your boys. Aaron loved you in return, thankful he'd found someone so amazing for his family. At this point, you were part of the household, always around for movie nights and soccer games.

“What do you think of me going to grad school?” you blurted out one night. The two of you were snuggled up on the couch, a movie playing on a low volume, so as to not wake up Jack. 

“I think you should do what you feel would be best for you.”

You groaned at his answer. It was so him, wanting you to make your own decision as if you hadn’t been trying to figure it out before you asked him.

“But what do you think,” you probe. “I mean, I’d be way busier, probably too busy to be around for Jack, and I’d probably go somewhere in D.C. but it’d still be a commute which means I’d see you less–”

“Honey,” he stops your rambling, “you can’t be a nanny forever. If you want to go back to school, I’ll completely support you.” 

His words cause you to let out a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?” 

“I’ll work around your schedule. We have relatives around for when you’re busy. I don’t want you to worry about me this much, you know.”

Of course you knew, but you still worried about him. It was an exchange you two had. You both worried about each other secretly. 

Aaron always knew you’d go back to school. He was happy for you, excited that you’d finally found something you wanted to pursue in a career. Insisting on helping you through the whole process, he proofread your essay, looked over the questionnaire, and helped you debate between programs. 

Even though he would never admit it, he might have had an ulterior motive. At the mention of going back to school, he couldn’t help but picture you in the stereotypical outfit, short skirts and ties. The thought made him blush, imagining you with your head in a book and your mind consumed with your studies. 

So, when you called him asking for outfit advice before your first day, he tried to lead you in the direction of his fantasy. You settled on a button down and a skirt with a sweater over it. When you sent him a mirror selfie, he felt a rush of blood go to his cock, observing the socks that went all the way up to your knees. It’d be a long day of waiting for your classes to be over.

On your way home, you call him again, starting to tell him about all your classes. He stops you, suggesting that you come over and tell him everything in person. You obviously agree, wanting to see him at every chance you could get, especially if it meant he’d come home from the office at a normal time. 

When you enter the house, you can smell something cooking in the oven. Jack is sitting at the counter as Aaron washes dishes. 

“It smells good in here,” you say as you set your keys down by the door. 

“Jack thought you’d want pizza after your first day of school.”

“He thought right.” You take a seat at the counter, watching Aaron set plates on the table. 

You share stories of your day over dinner, comparing professors and describing all the topics covered. It was mostly syllabus discussion in your classes today, so there wasn’t much to say, but the boys were interested in all the small details. 

After the meal, you washed the dishes while Aaron put Jack to bed. You hung your sweater over the back of a chair and undid the first few buttons of your shirt. Flopping on the couch, you didn’t notice Aaron staring as you lounged. You assumed he'd join you soon, finding some show that'd serve as background noise while you leaned on his shoulder and he did remaining paperwork. You were only pulled from your thoughts when he leaned down and whispered in your ear:

“Come to bed.”

You knew what he meant, as it was far too early to actually sleep. Following behind him, you close the door to the bedroom once you’re inside. You put your weight against it, leaning so you can rub your thighs together, already wet from the sight of him removing his tie in front of you. 

“It’s a nice outfit,” he says, eyes roaming your body.

You smile, knowing the unspoken words behind the message. “My boyfriend was very helpful in choosing it.”

Returning your smile, he presses you against the door with a kiss. You close your eyes, letting his lips wash away anything in your mind other than him. His hands plant on either side of your head, supporting him as he leans against the door. He kisses you until you run out of breath, breaking apart to gasp for air. 

“You’re such a tease,” Aaron lets out between gasps, “walking around in that short skirt.”

Reaching down, he touches you lightly over your panties. Only offering a whimper in response, your hips move slightly, wanting more than he’s giving you. 

“I bet all the boys were looking at those pretty legs,” he whispers, giving your earlobe a nip. “But only I can have you.” 

His touch has you needy for him, rockin into the finger that’s rubbing you through the soaked fabric. “Only you, Aaron.”

Your words make him groan. He slides your underwear down your legs, but doesn’t replace his hand.

“On the bed,” he commands. Needing more of him, you follow his orders. When he has you like this, you can’t help but do everything he says. 

“Hands and knees.”

Crawling on the bed, you arch your back, wanting to give him the best view possible. The sigh he lets out is a sign you succeeded, and you wiggle your ass around to signal your need. 

“Patience, pretty girl,” he coos. He leaves you waiting as he undresses completely. You wish you could see him, but you don’t want to disobey him. 

Finally, his hands return to your body, flipping your skirt up to feel your ass. His touch is reverent, needing to explore every inch of your soft skin. The brushes of his fingers alternate between slow and fast, the variation giving you goosebumps. The warmth of his large hands provides a stark contrast to the cold room, and you feel yourself leaning into his palms as they run across your lower half. Unzipping it, he peels the skirt away from you. 

Suddenly, he flips you around. The sight of him above you makes your pussy flutter. The lust in his eyes is overwhelming. He leans over you to unbutton your shirt. He goes slowly, savoring every inch of skin that’s slowly revealed, pressing kisses from your chest to your low stomach. 

Peeling away your shirt, he places one more kiss on your collarbone before moving down to your legs. He runs his hands along your thighs, grabbing at the plush skin. He lays down in between your legs, holding them open as he dives into your pussy.

Just like his earlier touches, the way he eats you out is almost like worship. Aaron is always like this in bed, adoration evident in every gaze and whisper. Usually, he has a rhythm, but tonight, his mouth is sloppy. He’s moving from your clit to your cunt rapidly, needing to have his mouth all over you. He only moves away briefly to nuzzle your clit in that way he knows you love. 

He pokes his tongue into your hole, and you move your hand down to his hair. The slight tug has him moaning, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. His tongue traces around your folds, following a pattern only he knows. When he licks a stripe up to your swollen clit, you buck your hips into his face. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rub against his mouth as he suckles where you’re the most sensitive. Your grip on his hair has him humping the sheet below him. If he had less control, he’d cum at the sight of you writhing against him. 

One brush of his teeth against your bud has you teetering on the edge. Recognizing the whimpers that you mindlessly let out, he fills you with two of his fingers. The curl of them against your walls is enough to send you into your orgasm. Aaron doesn’t let up, thrusting his fingers as your juices cover his face. He only pulls away when you yelp from the overstimulation. 

Pulling back, he places a kiss on your knee, just above the top of your socks. You think he’s going to take them off, but instead he moves up, removing your bra. 

Wrapping a hand around your thigh, he brings it up so it’s pressed in between your bodies. He strokes himself a few times, taking in the image of you in your knee-high socks below him. 

You let out a broken sob as he sinks into you. You’re still recovering from the orgasm from his mouth, so every ridge of his cock is perceptible. Any other day, he’d pause due to your sensitivity, but he’s too desperate to feel you. 

Bottoming out, his tip grazes your cervix. He pauses, taking in the feeling of your warm walls around him. He doesn't even realize it when he starts to rock against you.

Coming to his senses, he pulls all the way out, watching the way you pulsate, wanting to grab him as tight as possible. Pushing back in, you cry out, feeling the twitch of his cock inside you. 

He falls into a rhythm, one hand supporting himself while the other plays with your tit. He runs his thumb along the nipple, occasionally pinching when he wants to get a squeal out of you. 

Closing his eyes, he loses himself in the feeling of you sucking him deeper. Your body responds to every thrust, clenching while your moans punctuate his movements. 

You move your leg to wrap around him, needing him as close as possible. You hold him tight against your body, slowing down his thrusts. His cock drags against your g-spot, and you can feel the shape of his tip against your plush cunt. 

Aaron’s breaths grow ragged and his rhythm becomes sloppy. Unable to hold back any longer, he bites down on your shoulder as he fills you up. The sensation sends you into your own release, grabbing him into a tight hug. He lets himself fall against you, holding you close and resting his forehead against yours. When you start to whine, he places a kiss on your forehead and pulls out.

When he lays on his back, you wrap yourself around him, cuddling despite your warmth. You had learned that you have to pull him as close as possible to keep him from escaping to find a washcloth and a glass of water. You appreciate him taking care of you, but want to keep him in his relaxed state for just a little longer. 

“I think I should wear that outfit more often,” you say softly.

“Please do.” 

You giggle at him, resting a hand against his chest. If this is how Aaron responds to you going back to school, you might never graduate. 

[dolche-tejada]

"I don't care about the rest of your lack of comprehension in the medium but don't disrespect DEKU!"

What lack of comprehension ( I spent my time debunking the pile of crap you're writing in my mentions, you haven't wrote a single relevant argument so far.

As for Deku, I don't see why I should respect this fictional character. He's plain as hell, people constantly glaze him for his amazing traits when his showings struggle to keep up, he has no interesting flaws to nuance him as a character and is just a mouthpiece for the shitty themes of this manga, his character arc mostly consists in him learning to use his powers (how fascinating really...) and he utterly failed his main goal at the end out of sheer incompetence.

"wtf!! be mad cus your favourite villain died!!! but don't you dare accuse Deku of being lazy!"

Why ? Because you don't have any solid counter-argument to refute the fact that he stayed on his ass for 8 years without training to keep being a hero ? And that he needed Bakugo to offer him an easy solution on a plate to do something ?

Or is it because you're salty that Deku is indeed so incompetent at being a hero that he didn't even bother thinking about a plan to save Tomura when it was his main goal, and this despite having weeks ahead to think about it ?

Either way, cope harder pal.

"Lazy my foot bro. Bye bro. You spitting nothing actually."

First time someone trash one of your favs ? Don't worry it will be okay, just take a seat and some deep breaths.

"All the long paragraphs just took proof you lack of respect to the author"

Indeed I don't respect Horikoshi as a writer... And so ?

"and the rest of it just to prove you're just a person who spewing nothing."

He said after failing to prove me wrong even once.

"After losing One For All in the My Hero Academia storyline, Deku faces significant challenges."

Source : Trust me bro

"His journey without his quirk is explored in the series, particularly highlighting his determination and ingenuity in adapting to his new circumstances."

What "new circumstances" are you even babbling about, he literally came back to what he was at the start of the story and even said it isn't anything new for him to be quirkless again.

"They demonstrate that strategy, training, and personal growth are crucial. However, Deku's case is unique because his identity and journey have been so closely tied to One For All"

And in practice, how does being a former OFA user could stop Deku to work out to become a fighter like Shinso, Knuckleduster or Nighteye ? Go ahead, I'm curious.

"which fundamentally shifts his path when he loses it."

Lmao seriously ? That's the best you came up with to hide the fact that Deku never even tried to work out to still be a hero ?

Cause without the bs, you're basically saying : B-B-But it must have been really hard for him to lose a power he only had for not even 1/6 of his life, that's why he couldn't learn martial arts for some reason :'(

What a solid argument, I can't argue with that indeed.

"None of them loses quirk and they're birth with the quirk."

And so ? Besides you know that Knuckleduster also used to have a quirk before AFO stole it from him ? Well guess what : It didn't stop him from learning how to fight and being a quirkless vigilante so nope, you're just looking for excuses.

"Deku also train as crazy as them."

To learn how to use his quirks, not to compensate being a regular human like Stein or Nighteye does.

"Wtf bro, use your brain."

Funny you talk about brain, I was precisely about to ask you if you're having a stroke right now ? Because I can't decently believe anyone could write so much shit in a row without suffering from brain damage.

"Deku's struggle post-losing his quirk can be interpreted more as a narrative choice by the author"

Even if it was the case, that doesn't make Deku any less of a lazy ass bum. He lost OFA during the ellipse and immediately gave up on being a hero, until Bakugo came up with a solution Deku wouldn't have waited for if he was nearly as resilient and well-written as you think he is.

"Kohei Horikoshi, to explore themes of identity, resilience, and the essence of what makes a hero"

No argument here either, just random bs to hide the fact that you don't know how to refute my point.

"It's true that Deku relies on technology, but this can also be viewed as a form of adaptation and teamwork, core values in the manga. Didn't Tony Stark relied on his tech as well? What makes a hero? A quirk. No. A sense to help another person, to protect."

Lmao don't even try. Tony doesn't just sit on his ass and stop being a hero when he doesn't have his armor around him, whether in the comics or the movies (Iron-Man 3 is literally about that). It's even one of his most famous quotes in the MCU : "If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it"

Well Deku at the end is nothing without his suit/OFA. It's not an opinion, it's not arguable. It's factual. He doesn't just rely on technology, he's entirely dependent of it. Without his suit, he just stand there without doing anything for years while looking passively at his friends living his dream.

"The eight-year time skip where Deku waits for technology to compensate for his lack of a quirk might be critiqued as a plot device to advance other stories or to give Deku a new form of heroism."

Except he does exactly the same thing as before but with an high-tech suit. If Deku really intended to seek for a new form of heroism, he would have declined the suit so no, "he seeks a new form of heroism" my ass.

"It's not necessarily about laziness but about finding a new way to be a hero when the conventional methods are no longer available to him."

Which is outright false as evidenced in my precedent point, just above.

"This development allows for exploration of his character beyond his physical abilities."

Is this development with us in the room ?

"Deku's growth in different aspects, like leadership"

He never showed at any point leadership skills, only teamwork at best but m'kay.

"strategy, and inspiration, rather than just physical prowess."

Inspiration isn't a hero skill. As for strategy, he didn't have any growth in this aspect either since again, he totally gave up being a hero for 8 years straight.

"In summary, while your addled and rude aspect of critique might view Deku's reliance on external help as a sign of laziness, it can also be seen as part of his character development arc"

On one side actual facts, on the other side your headcanons. Damn, I wonder which one carries more weight ?

"showcasing his adaptability, the importance of teamwork, and the broader message that heroism transcends physical power."

Watch out, you still have some bit left at the corner of your mouth.

"The series uses this plot to explore different facets of heroism, which is a central theme in mha."

The story didn't explore crap. Again at the moment Deku lost his quirk, he just stop doing shit for almost a decade despite having options to still be a hero. All the meatriding and headcanons in the world won't change the fact that Deku is fucking lazy and didn't grow up since Chapter 1 where here again, he never even tried to work out to compensate being quirkless and improve his chances to be admitted at UA.

"I'm done with MHA fans that only read and crop panel for their benefits and play the narrative to fit their imagination."

"Don't you never actually comprehend the material in your hands?"

Try at least to score one relevant argument before saying remarks like that, it's hard to take you seriously otherwise.

Well that was shit. Now sorry but if your next reply is as idiotic and dishonest as the previous ones, I will likely just block you. Given how low you set the bar, I won't waste more time and energy refuting your delusions.

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he has Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best our MC could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[smuttysabina]

AriaSaki Earns Some Mortgage Money

(Aria Saki x Male Reader, 5.3K Words) Tags: Prostitution, Regrets from selling your body, Getting off to selling your body, Unexpected creampies, Vaginal and Oral Sex, Tittyfucking, She really should just release an Onlyfans, No handholding, Protected Sex (lol)

AriaSaki looks glumly at her computer screen, her eyes glazed over as she wracks her brain for some way out of her current predicament; her mortgage. Who knew something so mundane could bring so much stress? How was Aria supposed to have known that her org contract would fall through literally right after she bought herself a house! So she had spent the last year streaming constantly, doing everything she could to make her monthly payments, going live for days on end to try and make it through another pay period. I mean sure, she had also been splurging on pets, oh and on Pokemon cards, and on figurines, and... um well lots of things actually. But now Aria was truly struggling to keep up, and she had no idea how to make things better. She had spent her early years as a cumdump for LCS players, before transitioning to helping the nascent OTV group around the house, and then finally moving to streaming fulltime herself; aside from her cooking skills, she didn't have much to make a living with if streaming fell through. Well, there was one asset she still had left, but her parents would disown her if she started an Onlyfans to show off her voluptuous body to her fans; so she couldn't do that! Even that slut Jaime was coy about openly showing herself off, she would just tease on camera but keep the juicy stuff for her rich benefactors... Wait a minute, if Aria couldn't sell her body online, what if she could sell it in person?

Aria shudders in revulsion, was she seriously considering prostituting herself for some easy cash? Yes, yes she was...

You had always enjoyed perusing the escort listings, imagining yourself with the girls on display, stroking furiously to the thought of spending your hard earned cash on the chance to cum inside a woman. Of course, you had never actually paid to sleep with a prostitute, it was just arousing to browse and fantasize, especially since some of the girl's prices were nothing short of absurd. You nearly choke on your own spit as you read one listing, ten-thousand dollars for only one hour! At that price you might as well rent her for a whole year, and though her body was nicely shaped, there was no way she could possibly be worth so much. You shake your head in disbelief, what sort of moron would burn so much money on a simple fling? Probably just some rich brats who didn't know any better, and the escort's face was even blurred out as well, this was more likely than not just a scam. But that haircut did look oddly familiar... Frowning, you scrutinize the few pictures the lady of the night had on display, realization scratching at the rear of your brain as your mind attempts to connect the dots it had been given. You had seen her before, you were sure of it, though from where... You continue to beat your meat even as you drink in the sight of those saggy tits framed by that severe hime haircut, a sense of deja-vu filling you as you discern that you had masturbated to this view before. Your eyes boggle as realization finally dawns, perhaps $10,000 an hour was not too steep a price to pay after all...

Almost a week later, and you found yourself standing in front of an upscale hotel room door. If anything, the past week of paperwork and extensive background checks had left you even more convinced that the girl you were about to meet was in fact AriaSaki. You had signed no less than five separate NDAs, each more strictly worded than the last and filled to the brim with draconian punishments should you even think about this encounter in public. And the fact that she had dredged up drama from back in middle school to confront you about indicated that this was someone with a paranoid streak more than a little wide. The fact that the hourly rate was so obscenely high also was a glaring indicator, Aria had always been wont to splurge, and so probably was looking to buy all sorts of expensive junk to hoard. So you continue to wait awkwardly in front of the door, having knocked several times already, with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you had somehow been scammed and that this entire endeavor had been a complete waste of time. But before you turn to leave with a heavy heart, several loud clunks sound from the entryway, and the door opens a smidgen, allowing an elegant hand to reach from the darkness within and frantically beckon you inside.

You gingerly push open the door, stepping past the lady into the gloomily lit interior, before it is shut behind you and thoroughly locked. You turn to examine her, but she hurries past you into the hotel room, before collecting herself with a huff, clearly she was as nervous about this as you were. In the dim lighting you strain to make out her features, her face concealed behind a dark facemask with her olive-shaped eyes peering out above it; her hair was shorter than in her photos, but it matched how Aria's hair had looked on stream recently. Her voluptuous body was tightly constrained by a sleek black dress, showing off her noticeable curves without making her look like, well, a whore. The woman coughs before speaking in a rather familiar voice, "Okay, so before we do anything, you're going to need to transfer the money over to my account," she holds out her phone, with her bank account's QR showing on the screen. You dutifully pull up her account on your payment app, hesitating a moment before tapping in the desired amount to transfer. $20,000 might take a while to work off, but it would certainly be worth it... The girl sighs in disbelief as the notification pops up on her phone, "Wow. So this is for... two hours then? Whew!" she appears to hyperventilate for a moment before calming down and giving you a nod, and slowly undoes her mask to full reveal the face of your favorite streamer: AriaSaki

Aria grimaces awkwardly at you, "Okay, so I have never done this before so, um, I guess let's get this over with then?" She starts walking towards the bed before whirling, "Wait! Okay, um, so no anal, no oral, no kissing, don't ejaculate on me, I won't give you a blowjob, and you have to use a condom at all times, got it?" She glares sternly at you before you agree fully to her terms, and only then does she stalk towards her bed, grabbing a plastic tray from the nightstand and placing it beside her as she clambers onto the mattress. Aria gets on her hands and knees, her back inexpertly arched as she looks back at you in trepidation, "Um, I don't know how large your... penis is, so there's a bunch of different sizes in the tray. Oh! And lube." Then she waits, studiously ignoring you as you undress, and she twitches nervously as you climb onto the bed behind her. Feeling a little let down by the lack of intimacy, you nonetheless find your manhood fully interested in the situation, and you rummage through the tray before finding the correct size to cover it. Your cock's enthusiasm remains undiminished even after sheathing it in cool latex, and you crawl forward on your knees until you are in position behind the streamer. Aria flinches when you pull her dress up over her waist, revealing her pale ass that neatly compliments her juicy thighs; and nestled between her cheeks was the thing you had been lusting after for years.

AriaSaki's pussy was a deep brown, its sunken shape endowed with some sizable lips that were no doubt the reason her camel-toe showed up so easily. And of course, like the lovable gamer gremlin that she was, she had obviously not bothered to shave in several weeks; well at least she had showered recently, you had been somewhat worried she would not have... Aria stirs nervously, "Are you done looking at me, are you not going to stick it in?" Remembering her warning, you apply a hefty dollop of lube to your dick before grasping her waist with one hand to hold her steady as you guide yourself in. Your tip presses against her folds before angling upwards enough to find her entrance, slipping suddenly inside of Aria's hole and causing her to jolt in surprise. Aria lets out a despairing groan as your cock fills her pussy, "I cannot fucking believe I'm actually doing this right now..." Whatever reservations Aria might be feeling went ignored by you as the sordid heat of her cunt can be felt even through the condom, and the pressure of her folds around her shaft had your eyes rolling. The streamer placidly stays in position as you thrust away at her rear, her lack of enthusiasm not bothering you in the slightest due to how excited you were to be fucking AriaSaki herself! This truly was a wet dream come true...

The steady slap of flesh fills the room as you plow Aria's bent-over form, the streamer gasping and groaning in a mixture of disgust and natural pleasure; her pussy cared not a whit about the moral implications of this coupling, merely that it was being filled. So as you continue to fuck her, the wet squelching noises that accompanied your sex seem to be growing louder with every passing minute, until... Until you can't hold on any longer, and with a moan you clutch at the streamer's waist as you thrust as deep as possible inside of her, your cock pulsating with pleasure as it fills the condom with semen. Aria gasps at your sudden motion, her butt clenching rhythmically as her body shudders, and you feel a film of wetness drips down your balls, "Oh my fucking god, did I just... from this?" Aria whines in horror, "What kind of slut climaxes just from some random guy cumming in her?" She buries her face in a pillow and screams into it, her feet drumming against the mattress. Once her tantrum subsides though, a red-faced Aria looks back at you and asks petulantly, "Are you going to pull out, or do I have to feel you going soft inside of me?" With such a bitchy attitude, in your post-coital clarity you were starting to question whether even your favorite was worth nutting inside for 20,000 dollars.

Acceding to Aria's wishes, you gingerly unmount her, allowing your cock to slip out, along with the reservoir of semen dangling from the tip of it. The streamer collapses onto her side, and then gawps when she spots the massive load contained within your condom, "What the heck," she squawks, tentatively poking at the yolk-like mass of jizz hanging from the end of your dick, "That would... that would have all gone... in me?" You blush at Aria's prodding, you had saved up all week for her, but even you were shocked by the sheer quantity of cum you had unloaded for her; and that had been with minimal help from her as well. When you start to remove the condom she stops you though, seemingly mesmerized by what it contains. Aria breathes rapidly, and appears unaware that one of her hands is getting rather busy between her thighs, as her face slowly moves closer to the object of her obsession, "I-I came, I came from this?" Aria's face becomes completely flushed as she masturbates while you watch, "I-I'm a slut!" she gasps out, her fingers furiously churning her cunt, "I'm a prostitute, a fucking whore, oh fuck it feels so good!" Aria's eyes narrow as she drowns her shame in a tide of lust, she knew what she was doing was wrong, and it filled her with a lustful mania to be doing it. She pants as her tongue lolls, and she hesitantly licks the swaying sack of seed, before letting out a sultry groan as she orgasms, her entire body shivering until it passes; and she looks up and gives you a lascivious smile.

AriaSaki reaches up and gently removes your condom for you, though you had grown so flaccid that it was about to fall off anyways, and then to your complete shock, empties it into her mouth. The streamer lets out a muffled moan as your thickening seed fills her mouth, her tongue visibly roiling it around as she savors the harsh taste of your semen. Well savor might perhaps be a touch too strong a word, as Aria gags violently, nearly expelling the load all over the bed before recovering and returning to attempting to swallow it. All the while her finger's continue to be busy stirring her slit, as she fights to overcome her disgust through sheer pleasure; until with a grimace the foul fluid slides down her throat. Aria trembles as yet another round of squelches come from between her shivering thighs, and when she opens her eyes again to stare up at you, her face is a mask of arousal. Her ample chest heaves as she struggles to breathe, "I think... I think I'm down for round two..." Aria glances at your cock and seems unsurprised that it is nearly fully erect once more. Naturally, watching your favorite streamer swallow your cum while masturbating, had indeed made you hard once more, powering through the aftereffects of your first orgasm with gusto.

Aria tentatively grasps your cock, slowly stroking it while judging your reactions, "Are you ready for it again?" she asks, making you nod frantically in affirmation, causing a sultry smile to spread across her lips, "Fuck, I'm ready for it again..." The streamer promptly turns about and bends over once more, though this time her back is lasciviously arched and she spreads her cheeks with both hands. She coughs pointedly when you slap your bare member against her slit however, even lost in a fugue of lust, she still expects you to wear protection. This time when you take Aria from behind, she is far more vocal about it, screeching into the sheets while your cock churns her sopping cunt until it is gushing all down her thighs, wailing for you to fuck her harder. The slap of her surprisingly well-sized cheeks against your crotch echoes around the room as you relentlessly plow her, now you truly felt like you were getting your money's worth pounding away at AriaSaki's sloppy pussy! Her folds tighten greedily around your shaft as you fill her, desperate for the seed that would invariably fill the condom, yet dumbly hungry for it anyways. Your core burning from your efforts, you slow down, switching to slow, long thrusts as you struggle to catch your breath. Aria glances back at you in confusion, tears glistening on her cheeks, "Wait, did you finish already?" she says in exasperation before hearing your frantic denials, "Okay good. Want to swap positions?"

After taking a minute to recover, Aria rolls onto her back and spreads her legs for you, showing off the sopping mess you helped make between her lower lips. She smirks as you lean down to closely examine her pussy, drinking in the details that you missed during your only cursory inspection of it framed by her butt. Aria puts a hand on your head and guides you in, gasping with delight as you dig into her swollen folds, "Oh fuck yes, taste it, fucking eat it!", she quivers delightfully as your tongue laps its way up her slit, "Fuck I cannot believe this feels so good..." By the time you are finished, a fresh slick of juices spills out and soaks her asshole, and she is more than ready, and you more than rested, to continue. With a sleazy grin, Aria pulls her legs back until they are behind her head, her meaty tits squished between them, and her pussy completely vulnerable to your attentions. As you slap your hardening dick against her, you comment on how much she looks like a fleshlight like that, which only seems to excite her even more, "Oh yeah? Does it turn you on thinking I'm just a filthy pocket pussy for you to dump your loads into? That I'm just a whore addicted to random guy's fucking cocks?" she snarls up at you. Well, she said it first...

You mount Aria then and there, slipping your covered cock into her hole and placing yourself atop her thighs, your body weight squishing down onto her in a classic mating press position. Your sex was fantastically intimate, face-to-face as your manhood plunges deep inside of her, it was only natural that you begin to sloppily make out; you had already fucked her twice and this was the first time you had kissed her. Aria's lips were as soft as you had expected, though her tongue was almost off-puttingly aggressive as it forces its way into your mouth. As enjoyable as being pressed against your favorite streamer with her arms locked tightly around you was however, your thighs were already starting to scream from the effort; this position was far more difficult than porn had made it out to be... So after taking a short rest laying on her soft body you reluctantly pull out of her embrace, much to her obvious bemusement at your lack of stamina. You haul Aria to the edge of the bed, her dress dragging against the sheets, bunching uncomfortably up against her breasts and revealing her fertile belly. Who blushes at the reveal of her somewhat pronounced tummy, but she is soon distracted from her gloomy thoughts as you spank her clit with your cock once more.

Now you are able to get more solid thrusts in, while being able to grind your member deep inside of Aria's guts had been quite pleasant, pounding away at her contorted body like a cheap toy was even better. And Aria seems to agree, if her rising voice is any indicator; soon she is howling as loudly as she had been when you had mounted her from behind for the second time. Grasping her sweaty thighs to hold her steady, you relentlessly slam your cock into her sloppy folds, her juices soaking the sheets beneath her as she leaks uncontrollably, "Oh fuck, I'm getting used," Aria groans, "My pussy is getting used like a fucking onahole, why does it feel so good to be a fucking whore?" Her cunt sloshes excitedly, squelching loudly as her entire body starts to quiver, "Fuck, it's happening again! I'm fucking cumming again! Oh god, oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!" Aria gasps as a stream of fluids gushes out of her pussy, her eyes rolling back as she shudders, squirt spraying with every convulsion as her folds spasm around your shaft. You nearly join her in orgasm, but her shaking is so violent is expels your cock, the streamer unfolding herself and laying on her side until the pleasure surging through her finally subsides. Aria looks blearily up at you, "Fuck... I haven't squirted in like a year... Why am I enjoying this so much?"

Shaking off her reflective lapse in arousal, Aria returns to her cock-hungry state for ignoring the moral implications of selling her body, and needily spreads her legs for you once more. But after that last effort, you were exhausted, sweat slicking your skin while your back and abs scream with soreness, you might need a few minutes... But Aria doesn't have a few minutes to wait and ponder her situation, so instead she orders you back onto the bed, "Okay, just... just lay down, I'll get on top this time..." You are admittedly more than happy to let her take charge, her bossy attitude while streaming had always scratched at a particular itch, and your dick shows its enthusiasm by staying at attention. So you clamber onto the bed and settle down onto your back, your condom-sheathed cock resting stickily upon your chest, the rubber made almost opaque from Aria's juices. The streamer winces as she straddles you, her own legs a touch cramped after spasming while stuck behind her head, but she shows no sign of stopping to stretch out a little. Instead she seems intent on stretching out her pussy some more using your manhood, as she slides salaciously upon it, smearing yet more of her honey onto it. Giving into a whim, you reach up and yank the top of her dress down, allowing one boob to pop out while the other remains awkwardly caught in the tight fabric.

Rolling her eyes, Aria properly pulls her breasts out for you and leans back, allowing you to drink in the sight of her weighty tits sagging down her chest. She seems somewhat self-conscious about showing them off, but you are quick to reassure her by vigorously groping those flesh globes. Aria's thick, brown nipples harden quickly from your attentions, her pillowy boobs so large they are nearly spilling out of your hands, "Geez, you guys always love these so much, don't you?" she sighs, grinding all the harder upon your member, "Fuck, I need it..." Letting you continue to freely maul her tits, Aria squats over your cock, pulling it upright against her folds before sitting on it. You both groan as your dick slides into the familiar warmth of her pussy, the streamer taking it to the hilt and pressing her puffy lower lips against your crotch. Slowly, but swiftly starting to speed up, AriaSaki rides your cock, her thighs pistoning up and down your length with a frantic energy, her juices splattering across your chest with every bounce. Her face is beet ride as she fucks you, before she had been able justify her shameful arousal from letting a stranger use her for money with her passivity, but now that she was on top, she had no excuse to be enjoying this as much as she was, "Oh fuck!" she screams, "I'm a fucking whore! I'm a fucking whore! I'm fucking cumming on some rando's cock like a slut! Fuck, this feels too good!"

A fresh gush of squirt heralds Aria's climax, and she collapses down onto you, shuddering uncontrollably as her cunt floods her brain with pleasure. Your hands fervently roam her back, groping her squishy ass with glee until she recovers enough to continue riding you once more. Her pussy was so wet you could practically feel it slathering your shaft with every bounce, and it's burning heat made it feel as if you were not wearing a condom at all. Aria's messy hair sticks to her sweaty face as she fucks you, her face locked in a paroxysm of lust, "You fucking love it, don't you?" she salaciously licks her lips, "You love watching your favorite streamer turn into a slut for you? You love watching me begging it for it? Fucking give it to me!" she snarls, "I want your fucking cum!" she shrieks as she slams herself down onto you again and again, her folds gripping you like a vice. Having nearly finished twice already, your balls were more than ready to mindlessly empty themselves into this virile slut, and you hold desperately onto her waist as she rides your load out of you; her breasts flopping wildly as she does so. With a loud moan, you creampie AriaSaki, every fresh spurt of cum sending shivers through your body, filling the condom to capacity with your thick seed. The streamer quivers atop you, your sweaty skin stuck together as you both gasp for breath, and you felt as if you had just lost a year of life from orgasming so hard. Aria smiles blearily down at you before her face twists in confusion, "Wait, why is it...?"

Aria scrambles up off of you, hurriedly unmounting you before shoving her fingers into her cunt before dragging out a string of creamy fluid. She looks at the goop coating her fingers in shock, before you both look down at your cock as realization dawns; it turns out you had been feeling her wetness. Several inches of bare skin stands proudly above the yellow wrapping of the torn condom, streaked with your conjoined juices; insufferably proud of itself. Aria gawps at it for several moments before stammering, "Wait wait wait wait, that means... oh gOD YOU CAME IN ME?" she frantically scoops out yet more of your semen, hyperventilating as she processes the scale of this disaster, if it was as big as your last load then... "Oh FUCK," she groans in despair, "Am I gonna get pregnant? Did I really just get knocked up by some random guy?" her fingers stop scooping and instead start churning instead, "Fuck this is so risky! I need to... I need to..." her eyes roll back as she shudders once more, too busy drowning in pleasure to do anything about the unwanted creampie drying in her cunt. Desperate to continue outrunning the inevitable crash, she tears the remains of the condom off before bending down and taking you in her mouth.

Aria throws herself into the blowjob with reckless enthusiasm, her teeth scratching against your shaft while she gags violently from your tip banging against the back of her throat. You wince as your cockhead grinds against her molars, and you hesitantly suggest you take this to the edge of the bed once more...? "Oh, um okay?" Aria looks up at you in confusion, clearly worried that she was doing something wrong. She understands though when you get her to lay on the mattress, her head tilted back over the edge, and her tongue lolls expectantly as you rest your dick against it. Your brain was working overtime to overcome the usual post-climax downtime, and the stimulation from Aria's hole would assist greatly in that. And this time when you fill her mouth, you are easily able to push onwards into her throat. The streamer gurgles as your meat fills her throat, and a noticeable bulge shows in her neck, the sight of which dispels any lingering hesitations. Grunting like a beast, you fuck Aria's face with abandon, your cock roughly stuffing itself down her hole again and again, her Adam's apple bobbing frantically as she struggles to breathe. Spittle pours out of her mouth and erupts out of her nostrils as your balls slap against her nose, running down her forehead and into her hair while she steadily continues to masturbate even as her mouth is getting abused. Her breasts wobble enticingly upon her heaving chest while you relish the warm, wet hole you are fucking, and you know how you want to finish.

You pull out of Aria's mouth, and your dick is soon followed by a fresh gush of spittle that pours down her face as she gasps for air. She hurriedly scoops the frothy fluids out of her eyes as you haul her back onto the bed and clamber onto her chest, and she smirks knowingly as you grope her breasts, "You fucking want-" she coughs, "my fucking tits don't you?" her hands shove yours off of her breasts so she can squish them around your cock, and you start thrusting before she is even able to position it properly. You groan as the soft flesh of her boobs presses in around your shaft, it felt even better than you had fantasized, and you feel your balls quickly rising as you continue to hump her chest. Aria bites her lip and nods frantically, "Oh yeah, you fucking love my boobs, don't you? How many times have you beat your cock to my huge fucking tits?" she leans forward and sticks her tongue out, licking at your tip whenever it peeks out between her fleshy mounds, "I know you fap to me all the time, thinking about me on my knees with my slutty fucking tits out out for you... Yeah? Yeah you fucking do you fucking pervert! Oh fuck! Do it, fucking do it!" You are almost blubbering as you reach your orgasm, desperately fucking AriaSaki's massive breasts while she naughtily urges you on, precum already slopping out down her neck. With a howl you explode between her boobs, your load filling her cleavage before your cock slips out and your next ropes splatter against her open mouth and face. You frantically stroke your dick, working out the last dregs of sperm from you balls as you cover Aria's nipples with thick globs of cum, "Oh fuck yes," Aria exults as you paint her chest with your semen.

Aria happily sucks you clean, and while she does an idea pops into your head that you cannot ignore. You reach for your phone, which surprisingly had not been launched off the bed by your vigorous sex, and the streamer smiles dreamily as you hold it above her. You heart hammers as you drink in the sight through your camera: the famous AriaSaki with your softening cock resting between her tits, her breasts streaked with sweat and lines of cum, throwing up a double peace-sign while her spittle and jizz slathered face was twisted into the most depraved ahegao you had ever seen. It was almost enough to get you hard again, almost. But then Aria's alarm goes off on her phone, and you both glance over at it, realizing that your two hours were up, just in time. The streamer coughs awkwardly, and you scramble off her as she woozily lurches upright, giving you a shell-shocked look as she processes what she had just done. Sure, she was up 20,000 dollars, but now she had a stranger's semen roiling in her stomach, his sperm was wriggling its way into her womb, and his load covered her entire upper body. Aria lets out an exhausted sigh, before giving you a gloomy glare, "I think you should leave now," she says testily, before collapsing back onto the stained sheets. Not wanting to endure her infamous rages (by this point the poor neighbors had probably heard enough screaming already), you hastily dress before departing. And as you leave you hear her groan, "Oh my fucking god, he CAME IN FUCKING PUSSY! NEVER! NEVER AGAIN!", and you promptly slam the door shut to drown out the rest of her enraged shrieks.

A month later and you were at it again, perusing the backpages for hot escorts to masturbate to. Your time spent with Aria if anything had increased your arousal towards escorts, and when you were not pounding one out to her streams or your own memories of your time with her, or even that picture, you were pumping away to images of some lady of the night. Your heart nearly stops though when you come across a familiar advertisement for an insane price, it couldn't be. She said she would never do it again... But when you open it, you see that it was posted recently, and unlike before the description now was for a "No limits prostitute, please get tested so that you can fuck me raw in any way you want, my curvy Asian body is yours to use!" You are shaking as you type out a message, inquiring when she would next be available, and you almost pass out when you receive a response. A lewd selfie of Aria with her tongue sticking out, her arm pushing up her fat tits, precedes the message: "You again? Make sure to get tested this time so you can fuck me bareback properly this time! I love being your nasty little whore..."

Well, it seems like you will be spending the rest of your life ruinously in debt, but at least you will be spending it balls deep inside of AriaSaki's pussy!

[theemporium]

[5.1k] the thing between you and leon was just for convenience sake. that was all it was and all it ever would be. obviously fucking the same person for a prolonged period of time wouldn't lead to feelings or anything like that. right? (smutty themes included)

.

Look, Leon never claimed he made smart decisions off the ice. 

It was different when he was on the ice. He was good on the ice, excellent even. He had shelves of trophies to prove as much. There was a reason he won those trophies, there was a reason he had earned his contract and there was a reason he was seen as one of the best players in the league, even whilst playing with Connor fucking McDavid every single night.

Leon was really fucking smart when it came to hockey. It was just everything else he seemed to have a problem with.

Case and point? The fact he was currently driving one and a half hours after a late afternoon game to meet you at some dodgy motel where there would be less of a chance of him being recognised than he would in Edmonton. 

Not the smartest decision. 

The fact this had been an ongoing arrangement for the last few months also further proved this was not a smart decision in the slightest. 

But truthfully, Leon could not bring himself to regret his far-from-smart decisions because the pros definitely outweigh the cons, quality over quantity or whatever the saying was. Because god knows the relationship between the two of you came with way more cons: the distance, the commute, the fact you were a fucking Flames fan.

It was, by all definitions of the word, the furthest thing from convenient for him and yet he was still making the drive to Red Deer against his better judgement. 

You were already there. He had just gotten out of the shower, the exhaustion from the game and the press conference already settling deep in his bones when he opened his phone to find a picture waiting for him, one of you sprawled out on a bed—a bed which he recognised easily by the same ugly sheets the motel used in every room.

Leon hated the way his stomach flipped at the sight of them, at the knowledge that you were there waiting for him. 

He had tried not to think about what he was doing too much, but it was hard to avoid when Connor gave him an odd look after he phoned his dog-sitter and asked if he wouldn’t mind popping over to make sure Bowie got his afternoon walk and some dinner. He also tried to ignore the looks of confusion he got from the rest of the team as he waved off the offer of celebratory drinks after a shut-out win against the Blue Jackets. 

If he was being honest, Leon’s way of coping with this whole thing was to avoid a lot of details. 

It seemed to be working so far. 

The drive to Red Deer felt like muscle memory by this point. It was almost therapeutic, to let his brain mostly shut off and relax after such a fast-paced, high adrenaline game. It was nice to just clutch the wheel and follow the signs down, knowing that you were waiting for him at the end of the journey. 

He could have snorted the second he walked through the motel room door, the key still in one hand as he pushed it open and found you sprawled on the bed—unfortunately clothed, unlike the photo you had sent him earlier. 

“Playing hard to get?” 

Your lips twitched as you pushed yourself to sit up on the bed, shuffling until you were perched on the end. “Not everything is about you, Draisaitl,” you mused, watching as he closed and locked the door behind him. “You were taking your time and this room is fucking freezing.” 

“It’s almost like the only thing I had planned in my diary was a game today,” Leon deadpanned. “No secret meetups penciled in.” 

“Hm, should have guessed you would want your ego stroked after a game like that,” you retorted, watching as he began to shrug off the suit jacket he wore with his game day suit. “Want me to tell you how good you did, baby?” 

Leon rolled his eyes. “You watched?” 

You shrugged. “I got curious, wanted to see what all the hype was about.” 

“Hm,” Leon hummed, tugging impatiently at his tie until he was able to pull it over his head. His fingers were already moving to the buttons of his shirt. “And what was your conclusion?” 

“You play alright,” you commented, your lips twitching like you were trying to fight back your own grin. “Slightly disappointed by tonight’s performance though.” 

Leon raised his brows. “Two goals and an assist weren’t enough for you?” 

“I was looking for a hat trick,” you said, and this time you did grin.

“Brat,” Leon huffed, not quite fond but something else positive, lustful, desired even.

“You love it,” you countered, eyes sparkling.

He didn’t even bother to deny it as he leaned down, both hands engulfing your face as he kissed you, hard and fast and desperate, like the long drive down had finally caught onto him and his patience. 

“Clothes off,” he muttered between kisses, hissing a little when your teeth playfully nipped his lip. 

“Gonna warm me up?” You taunted, leaning back enough to pull your hoodie over your head and throw it somewhere on the floor beside his abandoned tie and shirt. 

He groaned, his nose scrunching up. “That was a horrible line.” 

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna fuck me,” you retorted, looking far too smug for his liking.

The worst part was that you were right.

…

“Leaving already?”

“I need to get back to Bowie.” 

“Give him my love.” 

“I will not be doing that.” 

“Rude.” 

…

Leon wasn’t exactly going out of his way to hide the fact he was sleeping with someone on a regular basis. 

It would be a stupid thing to try and hide when he knew each of his teammates had working eyes and would very much be able to see the scratches and marks left all over his body following his latest meetup with you.

“Oi! Oi! Someone had a fun night!” 

Leon barely reacted anymore, simply letting the cheers and catcalls echo through the locker room as he focused on gearing up for practice. It was inevitable, it was something he had dealt with since the start of his relationship with you—if whatever the two of you had could even be considered a relationship. 

“I’ve been looking for a new place to take Lauren for date night.” 

Leon paused, turning to look at Connor with his brows furrowed together. He waited for the boy to continue but he never did. “Okay?” 

Connor was still looking at him expectantly. “Any recommendations?” 

“No?” Though, it came out sounding like a question. Mostly because it was a question, because Leon was kind of confused why this was a necessary topic of conversation before early morning skate. “Am I meant to know a place?” 

Connor blinked. “I assumed wherever you went after the game on Tuesday.” 

Leon frowned. “I didn’t go out to eat after Tuesday’s game.” 

“But you phoned your dog-sitter,” Connor pointed out, though he didn’t sound accusatory. He had that look on his face, the same one that Leon often saw on the ice when he was trying to work out a play before it even happened. 

“I did,” Leon nodded, because there was no point in denying it when Connor had overheard the conversation. “Pretty sure he doesn't have any date spot recommendations either.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed and Leon swore he could hear the cogs in his brain whirling and turning. But Leon was stubborn and a little petty and he didn’t give handouts, not even to Connor. So he stood there, staring back at his friend with a fairly blank expression.

“Interesting,” Connor said eventually before turning back to his stall to get ready for practice.

Leon pretended to ignore the way the tightness in his chest loosened when Connor dropped the topic.

…

“The motel could be a good date night spot, you never know.” 

“I know for a fact we saw a rat in the bathtub once.” 

“Yeah, and you screamed like a little girl.”

“I screamed the appropriate way for a rat the size of a small dog.”

“Bowie could take that rat.”

“I would never let Bowie near that monster.”

…

Despite every piece of advice he had ever been given from the veterans before him, roadies didn’t really get easier.

After a while, the non-descriptive hotel rooms with scratchy sheets and stiff pillows became a part of the routine. It was a part of his job, the same way early morning practices and bag skates were. He didn’t like it, he could do without it but he had learnt to accept it very early on in his career. 

Still, there were some nights on the road where the room was too uncomfortable for Leon to settle down. 

They had flown in early for their east coast roadie, having a full day and night in Florida before their game the following night. The others had headed out for dinner, wanting to enjoy the heat whilst they could but Leon had waved them off when they extended the offer to him. He was tired and still a little grumpy from the small nap he managed on the turbulent flight down. He wanted his bed more than anything, but the hotel one would have to do. 

Except, Florido was humid. 

It was humid and hot and his clothes were sticking to his body. But the air conditioning in the hotel room was stuck at a temperature that made the room frigid. And the fucking feeling of the sheets against his skin made him feel like he was seconds away from biting his own arm off if the starchiness didn’t stop feeling so starchy against him. 

He hadn’t even realised what he was doing until the rings were going through. 

“I hope you’re wearing something sexy for me.” 

Despite his pissy mood, Leon did find himself snorting a little. 

“Put on my tightest pair of boxers just for you,” he mused, swallowing back the biting complaints as he tried to settle back onto the bed. 

“Yeah? Gonna mess them up for me, big boy?” 

“God,” Leon groaned but he was smiling. “I don’t even know why I bother sometimes.” 

But you laughed and the sound settled something inside him. “I bet they have little Oilers logos on them too.” 

Leon grinned a little. “Is that something you’re into? Want me to dress up for you?” 

“I would burn them if you wore them in front of me.” 

“If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask,” Leon retorted, his eyes falling shut as you scoffed on the other side of the phone.

“Are you naked now?” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Do I want to listen to you jerk off to my fantasies of burning your Oilers boxers? Can’t imagine anything hotter, Draisaitl.” 

Leon hated the way his dick twitched at your words anyways, the way something stirred in his stomach at the idea of you being so desperate to get his clothes off and to have him sprawled out naked and waiting for you. He didn’t tend to like handing over control, but he thinks his curiosity would win out when it came to you. 

“Talk dirty to me, baby. Tell me your sexy, arsonistic dreams.”

…

“Be honest. Do your boxers have little Oilers logos on them?” 

“I am not even dignifying that question with an answer.” 

“I’ll wear a Flames thong, we can match.” 

“I promise you I will not fuck you if you wear any sort of Flames merchandise around me. Instant turn off.”

“Liar.” 

…

Even though Red Deer was a beloved meet up spot for the both of you, Leon wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the obvious opportunity to meet up after a Battle of Alberta game.

Your apartment was one Leon had become familiar with, even though this was technically the first time he had ever stepped foot into it. It felt a little surreal as he walked through the doorway, sliding off his boots and looking around at the apartment that had been the backdrop for more Facetimes than he could even remember. 

His eyes lingered on the couch as a vague memory came to mind, of seeing you sprawled over it with your hand between your legs and your head thrown back as you came for him over the phone after a particularly rough game against LA.

“You just gonna stand there all day?” 

“Maybe,” Leon answered, not seeming to be in any rush as he continued to glance around your apartment before turning to face you. “I wanted to see what my options were for the night.” 

You raised your brows. 

“What? Backing out of our bet now?” Leon mused, feeling his stomach twist in delight at the way your eyes instantly narrowed in defiance. You were going to be difficult tonight, bratty even. 

Good. He liked that. He wanted that.

“You were so confident your Flames would win,” Leon continued, the name tasting like acid on his tongue as he hissed it out. His eyes were glued to you, taking slow steps towards you and feeling a thrill of excitement at the way you refused to back down. “A shame they couldn’t win.” 

“They would have,” you said, just to push his buttons, just to piss him off. “Bad calls can really determine a game.” 

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Bad calls don’t mean shit when they can’t get the puck in the back of the net.”

Your eyes darted down to his lips as he stood in front of you. “And you did?” 

“Twice,” Leon grinned, sharklike and dangerous and yet, it still didn’t stop you from darting forward to press your lips against his.

Leon was shameless with the groan he let out as he pressed you against the wall, as he tucked his leg between yours and wound his arms around you so he could press you against his body. He was shameless in the way he kissed you, fast and passionate and needy and desperate. He was shameless in the way he muttered what he wanted to do with you, in the way he wanted you, in the stupid deal you had goaded him into a few hours before the game.

It was a herculean task to pull yourselves away from the wall and let you pull him towards your bedroom, but it was worth it once the two of you had managed to tear your clothes off and get on the bed. Leon allowed himself one, two, three seconds to stare at the sight of you spread out on the bed before he crawled over you and completely engulfed your body with his own.

“And that—” You let out a small whine as his teeth nipped the spot behind your ear. “—power play in the second was a bullshit call and we both fucking know it.”

“Fuck,” Leon groaned, his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the length of your neck. “Do you ever shut up?” 

“Thought you liked my mouth open,” you retorted, breathless and smug and, fuck, if it wasn’t infuriatingly hot to him. As if it wasn’t that damn mouth that was the reason he kept this going when it was far from easy or convenient. 

“I like it full,” he corrected, lifting his head to watch the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I like it when you’re too fucked out to talk.” 

Your eyes gleamed with interest. “Then guess you better hurry up. I’ve been hearing a lot of promises since you walked through that door.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Keep your hands above your head. Don’t move.” 

“Is this you cashing in your reward from the bet?” You asked, playful and teasing but still obedient as you reached up to grip the wooden bars of your headboard. “That's all you want from me? To not touch you?” 

Winner gets to do whatever they want for the night.

Leon grinned and it made your stomach twist in delight. “Be good and you’ll find out just what I want and what I will get from you.”

…

“Is that a teddy?” 

“Don’t judge Quacks, he’s been with me through a lot.”

“He is staring into my soul.”

“He is a good judge of character and he says you’re pissy.” 

“Sounds like a very judgemental duck.”

“You two can bond over it.”

…

Somewhere along the line, the visits to that dodgy motel in Red Deer started to lessen.

Leon wasn’t sure when or why but…it just started to happen. It almost felt natural though, something he tried not to think about too deeply. He had just come off one of their longest roadies of the season yet—one that unfortunately resulted in more losses than wins—and he was keyed up, pissed off and in desperate need of some sort of distraction. 

But despite the two days off following the roadie, the idea of sitting in his car to drive down to Red Deer and back just for the sake of a few hours (at most) felt tiring and annoying and just…so much work. 

You had laughed over the phone when Leon had said as much, not sounding all that bothered or surprised by his pissy attitude. If the messages and late night calls shared during the roadie were anything to go by, you had watched the games and knew just how bad the team was playing lately. 

“Want me to come up and kiss the shitty games better?” 

“That’s a three hour drive,” he found himself saying in response. “Both ways.”

You snorted. “Wow, you wouldn’t even let me stay the night? Maybe chivalry is dead.” 

And that…fuck, Leon didn’t realise how badly he wanted that until you said. 

“You should come,” he blurted out. “Come and stay over.” And after a few moments of silence, he added, “I don’t have anything for a few days either.”

Leon wasn’t sure what he expected to come of the offer, but it was a little too late once you had accepted the offer. You messaged him once you were on the road. You sent another when you briefly stopped at Red Deer, taking a picture of your usual motel and sending it with a ‘missing the musty smell already’. You ended up sending your location for the rest of the journey, claiming you couldn’t be bothered to message when you were nearby and that he could just watch your location if he was that desperate to know. 

He didn’t admit that he watched your pin move closer and closer to his house for the last fifteen minutes of your drive. 

Leon kind of expected it to be awkward when you arrived, for the regret to hit and for the heavy realisation to settle that he had let someone else into his space for a prolonged amount of time. 

That never happened. If anything, it was more unsettling to realise just how easily you slipped into his life at home, to see how quickly Bowie accepted you. 

If anything, it made him realise how much he wished the two of you had done this sooner.

…

“Never took you to be the kinda guy to wine and dine a girl.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do you kiss Bowie with that mouth?” 

“No, but I did make you come three—”

“Nuh uh! Not when Bowie can hear, he has innocent ears.” 

…

The trips to Red Deer became nonexistent and instead were replaced with a back and forth of trips between Edmonton and Calgary.

Now, as stupid as his decisions off the ice may be, Leon wasn’t oblivious. He knew that this went beyond the original convenience excuse the two of you had thrown around at the start of this relationship. He knew that no normal person in a ‘sex only’ relationship was driving three hours just to spend a few days with their ‘sex only’ partner. He knew that this was far beyond the original agreement the two of you had agreed to in that dingy Calgary bar after the Oilers lost abysmally. 

But Leon was more than happy to avoid voicing those realisations out loud for as long as he got to keep everything going the way it was. 

Because he liked how things were, despite the initial confusion, and he was unashamedly selfish like that to know that he wasn’t letting it go until he had to. 

And if lying to his teammates to get out of team bonding after a ten day roadie so he could be home when you came over was a part of that? Then so be it.

He missed you. 

“You’re acting like it’s been a million years,” Leon commented, closing the door behind you and placing your bag to the side (rather than the spot in the middle of the entryway you had chosen). 

“It has been a million years,” you said from your spot on the floor, your legs crossed and Bowie happily licking your face. “I’ve been deprived of seeing my favourite boy.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, though it seemed fond. “He misses you too. Pretty sure he recognises your voice through the phone now. He looks extremely disappointed when he goes to the door and you’re not there.”

“Because he’s the smartest boy!” You cooed at the fluffy dog on your lap, grinning widely as he continued to whine and yip happily at you.  

Leon chose to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sight. 

“Did you only miss him?” Leon found himself asking, because apparently he had reached the point of being jealous of his own damn dog.

The amusement was clear on your face when you lifted your head, that grin now directed completely at him. “I never took the Leon Draisaitl to be one to go fishing for compliments.”

Leon all but huffed. “I am not fishing, I am asking.” 

“Because you missed me?” You asked, sounding even more amused. 

“I regret opening the door.” 

“Liar,” you beamed at him, moving Bowie off your lap (who was not happy with the sudden shift in attention) and pushed yourself back onto your feet until you were in front of Leon, arms wound around his neck as you placed an obnoxiously loud, smacking kiss onto his cheek. “Better?” 

“You’re getting there,” he said, trying to sound dismissive and unbothered but the smile growing on his face didn’t help. 

You shook your head, almost looking as fond as he felt. “Hurry up and kiss me then, Draisaitl, it’s been a million years.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, but he happily complied. 

…

“That goal in the third against the Kings was hot.” 

“You watched?” 

“You sound surprised whenever I tell you I watch your games.” 

“The game was on at the same time as the Flames game.”

“Yeah but the Flames game didn’t have your grumpy face on the screen.” 

…

Leon realised that things had to change when Connor, of all people, was the one pointing out just how long this stupid thing between the both of you had been going on.

Not on purpose, which somehow made the whole thing ten times worse. 

The thrill of hate sex hadn’t been a solid excuse for the relationship between you two after the third or fourth hookup. No hate sex was that good to commute for it, no matter what anybody says. And the convenience argument quickly followed, even if the two of you clung onto it with both hands in the early months of the relationship.

And as the relationship grew and bloomed, you both seemed happy enough to ignore labelling it all together. 

Which was pretty fucking stupid, when Leon really thought about it. Even more so when Connor was the one connecting the dots for him.

“So.” 

Leon didn’t even bother looking up, his gaze focused on his skates as muscle memory took over, looping and tightening the laces on his skates before practice. “So?” 

“It’s almost been a year,” Connor said, standing in front of Leon’s stall with half of his gear on and his hands on his hips. “And I respect that you want to keep your privacy but…”

Leon paused, looking up at Connor with his brows furrowed. “What?” 

“I thought we were friends,” Connor frowned. “Good friends.” 

Leon blinked. “We are? What’s that got to do with anything?”

Connor stared at him like he was the one going crazy. “So you’re going to finally bring her over for dinner on Sunday? Lauren wants to meet her too.”

Leon blinked again. “Who?” 

Connor sighed, heavy and exasperated. “Your girlfriend, Leon. The one you have been hiding away for the last year.”

And, in that moment, Leon had come to a handful of realisations that were not ideal to deal with a few minutes before a hard practice on the run up to playoffs. Especially not when it had been triggered by words from the ‘more robot than human’ Connor McDavid.

He hadn’t realised the whole thing between you both had been going on for almost a year. He hadn’t realised the people around him were that observant, that they figured out he had been seeing the same person rather than random flings during the season like he had done in previous years. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted to call you his girlfriend until he realised he couldn’t look Connor in the eyes and say with conviction that yes, you were in fact his girlfriend. 

Leon realised a lot. 

“Raincheck?” Leon blurted out before he could stop himself, filing away the epiphany and Connor’s disappointed captain face to the back of his mind for the remainder of the practice so he didn’t deck it on the ice. 

He was the first one out of the locker room after practice before Connor could catch him again.

…

“Hey, you’re still coming over this weekend, right?” 

“Uh, yeah, just like we planned. Why? Did something come up?” 

“Yes. No! No, it didn’t. I just…I just need to talk to you about something.”

“How ominous.”

…

Leon had probably paced the distance to Germany and back around his living room by the time you arrived, much to Bowie’s displeasure as he watched from his spot on the couch with only slightly judgemental eyes.

In the days since his conversation with Connor, most of his thoughts had been surrounding what he wanted to say to you. He wasn’t stupid enough to think you didn’t feel something for him, he knew you had to or you wouldn’t be driving up to Edmonton every other week to see him. But he didn’t know if you would want more, he didn’t know if you would want a label.

He didn’t know if pointing out the very thing the two of you had been ignoring for the last year was going to completely fuck it up and, selfishly, he really did not want to lose you. 

It was almost ironic that you didn’t even knock on the door when you arrived, using the damn spare key he gave you to walk straight into the house like it was normal. Because it was normal for the two of you, it had been normal for months.

And yet, the only thing Leon could say as you walked through the door was, “where is your bag?” 

“In the car,” you said as you closed the door behind you but made no move to take your jacket off or even pull your boots off.

Suddenly, Leon felt on edge. “Why didn’t you bring it in?” 

You stayed where you were, too far away from him, too far away for him to reach out for you. “Is there a reason for me to bring it in?” 

“I—” Leon frowned, his chest twisting uncomfortably. “What? Of course there is. You’re staying the weekend, no?” 

“Am I?” You asked, your hands clenched into tight fists by your side. Your voice was shaky, unsure. He had never heard it like that before, and he never wanted to hear it like that ever again. Especially when it came to him. “Because from the way you’ve been acting the last few days, it feels like you are just trying to let me down nicely and it’s—”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Leon blurted out.

You stared at him, lips parted in surprise.

“I—fuck, I had a whole thing I was meant to say before that,” Leon grumbled to himself, shaking his head as he closed the distance between you both. And for the first time in days, his head felt clear as he stood in front of you, his hands cupping your face because he needed to be touching you before he felt like his whole body would explode. “We are so far past this whole convenience bullshit.” 

You snorted despite yourself, your lips twitching upwards as your hands reached for him. “Yeah, I think we got past that after the reception lady at the Red Deer motel asked us if we knew we had collected enough membership points to get a room free for a whole weekend.”

Leon didn’t even bother holding his smile back. “I want this. I want you. I want to tell people that you’re my girlfriend.” He paused, his nose scrunching up a little. “Well, not everyone. They can mind their own business, but the people that matter. I want to tell them that you’re my girl, even if you’re a fucking Flames fan, and I’m yours.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a Flames fan. Not really. Not anymore.”

Leon raised his brows. “Finally joined the better side?” 

“My boyfriend put up a really convincing argument,” you said, your hands twisting the fabric of his hoodie between your fingers before you pulled him closer.

“Your boyfriend sounds like a smart man,” Leon murmured, surprised he could even hear himself talk over the sound of his thumping chest.

“Eh, I’m only really with him for his dog,” you teased, laughing as Leon groaned and tugged you closer.

“Brat,” he grumbled against your lips, trying (and failing) to hide the fondness in his voice as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You love it,” you retorted.

Leon’s face softened as he pulled back enough to look at you. “Yeah. I do.”

…

“Let me get this straight, you only realised you wanted me to be your girlfriend because of Connor?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Wow, baby, you got love advice for McJesus.” 

“Please stop talking about Connor whilst you are naked in my bed.”

.

[writemekpop]

Cuffed | Mark Lee

Summary: Mark is the dumbest police detective you've ever worked with. What's worse, he's cold and awkward around you. One steamy night, you find out his true feelings.

Genre: Suggestive, Fluff, Police detective AU

Word count: >1k

You dangled the keys in front of Mark, who stared at them, his black eyes puppy-wide.

Ugh, you thought. Not this idiot again.

You made a driving motion with your hands. “Toot toot. You drive car.”

“Ah. Right,” Mark said, letting the keys fall into his palm rather than touch you.

You hated Mark.

You got promoted to police detective through bloody hard work. He got promoted because he was a man - and, you had to admit, his classical good looks and weekly blueberry muffins made him a favourite in the office.

“Let's just do this stakeout, alright?” you said, as Mark drove to the alley where you would be parked for the night.

As the hours passed, you started to get angry.

Mark would barely make eye contact with you, he shuddered when your hand brushed his on the camera… he was stiff with distaste.

“Look,” you said. “Let's have it out, yeah? What is your problem with me?”

Mark's eyes shot open, then he looked down. “Problem?”

“Yep,” you said, lifting his chin with one hand to force him to look at you. “You obviously hate me. So why?”

“I don't… I mean… ” Mark stuttered.

“Tongue-tied? Hmm?” you said, bitterly, pinching Mark's cheek. He stiffened, and a spark jumped inside you, so you didn't move your hand.

Instead, you cupped his cheek, then let your thumb graze over the shell of his ear. He was shuddering. You liked how nervous he was.

A light flashed in the corner of your eye. A car was approaching.

“Damn it,” you hissed. “Get down.”

You grabbed Mark's collar, and pulled him down, pressing your back to the seat so you wouldn't be seen. His face hovered inches from yours, his black eyes almost crossing.

Without meaning to, you noticed the feeling of his body against yours - light but full of energy, like a wire stretched to breaking point.

For a moment, there was no sound, and you thought you'd got away with it.

Then, you heard footsteps coming up to the car.

You cursed furiously. Suddenly, Mark stared straight into your eyes, his dark brows furrowed.

“I have an idea, okay?” he said.

You nodded.

And he pulled your face to his and kissed you.

Not a bad idea, you thought. A couple getting down to it in a dingy car park - it's believable.

Then all of a sudden, Mark was pulling you closer to him, his mouth meeting yours again and again, and you weren't thinking anymore. Mark gave everything to you in that kiss, sucking your top lip raw, like he wanted to erase the space between you. The stiffness in his body was gone, as he melted into action.

You were a little ashamed to hear a moan sound in your throat.

God, why should you feel guilty for this? You could never really get a twenty-something like Mark, even a stupid one, and you hadn't been touched in so long.

It was a very long time before you pulled back, and an even longer time before you realised what this meant.

Mark fancied you! It was so obvious now. You were way too old for him, but that still felt nice.

Mark leaned back, gulping as he patted down his chaotic black hair. Splotches of light caught the ripple of his Adam’s apple, and turned his skin a deep gold. His ridiculous blue suit was crumpled, and a hint of chest hair peeked out from his shirt.

You rapped the steering wheel. “Right. Um. They left a long…long time ago, right?”

Mark nodded.

“Okay. I'm going to… walk back to the station. Clear my head,” you said, and left the car, ignoring whatever Mark was about to say.

As you trudged back, you lit a cigarette with unsteady hands.

That kiss was just a blip. You and Mark? No bloody way. He had too much…. hope. He probably believed in world peace - and Santa.

You knew what would happen. Mark would meet some starry eyed girl with no violent ex husband or borderline drinking problem. They would have idiotically gorgeous children together, and you would hate-like their pictures on Instagram at 3AM.

That was what was right. That was the way things were meant to be.

Acid surged in your stomach.

Damn what was right. You wanted Mark - maybe you had for too long - and you were having him.

You strode into the near-deserted station, and saw Mark leaning in the corridor, sipping from a paper cup.

You walked towards him. “Why did you treat me like that?”

He gulped. “Huh?”

“If you - fancied me - why didnt I get any of your happy-dappy bullshit? Why weren't you nice to me?”

Mark smiled at his shoes. “You said niceness is for air hostesses and rent boys.”

“And I stand by that,” you said softly. “You're certainly not an air hostess.”

Mark whole face darkened in a blush. “I just… like you so much. I didn't want you to hate me.”

You brushed off his shoulders. “Yeah, well…maybe I like your nice side. Maybe I want the princess treatment too.”

Mark's grin took up his whole face. “You really mean it? Because I baked a batch of lemon bars I think you'll love. Ooh, and I know a great matcha place for our first date-”

“Dear lord,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist as you left the station together. You squeezed his butt, making him jump. “At least you've got one hell of an arse.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[sincerelybubbles]

a. hotchner x reader - crawling through your window

i saw someone post about their fav crawling through a window in the rain and the long-form spencer fic is rotting my brain so enjoy hotch crawling through your window <3

i don't think there are any warnings, lmk if that's wrong. also, not proof read, I am back to my usual bullshit

The knock on your door was probably easy to miss. You wouldn’t know, though, because you didn’t hear it.

You were in the kitchen, hunched over the counter, forehead pressed to the cool marble as you debated whether or not another cup of coffee would actually be helpful at this point or just make the buzzing in your head worse. The case had been brutal. Messy, exhausting, the kind that left shadows under everyone’s eyes and an ache in your bones that no amount of stretching could shake.

Nausea builds deep in your navel, a resounding sign that you need to go to sleep, and soon.

You had ignored your phone when it rang earlier. The thought of answering it, of extending your exhaustion into another conversation, had felt impossible. And now, lost in your haze of weariness, you missed the second attempt at contact.

It wasn’t until the faintest creak from somewhere inside your apartment—somewhere that shouldn’t have been occupied—reached your ears that you felt the first tendrils of alarm coil around your spine.

You straightened, heart picking up speed, blood surging in your veins as your mind catalogued the possible explanations. The locked door. The windows—

Your bedroom window had been cracked open to let the storm air in earlier.

And now, standing in the dim light of your apartment, soaked from head to toe, rainwater dripping onto your floor, stood Aaron Hotchner.

Your mouth opened, words tangling, tripping over each other, before settling on a very eloquent:

“What the—Aaron?”

His expression didn’t change. If anything, the faintest flicker of exasperation crossed his features, a barely-there pinch between his brows.

“The door was locked.”

A beat of silence.

You blinked.

“I—” You shook your head, taking a step back like that might help you process this. “Are you breaking into my apartment?”

He sighed, heavy, dripping water like a crime scene in your doorway. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“…So you climbed through my window?”

“I took the fire escape.”

“Oh, well, that’s so much better.”

You stared at him, stunned, watching the way his soaked dress shirt clung to his arms, how his tie was askew, his hair darkened and sticking to his forehead from the rain. His jacket was nowhere to be seen, and he was standing there, entirely unbothered by the fact that he had just climbed into your apartment in the middle of a downpour like some kind of brooding, law-abiding criminal.

The absurdity of the situation was just shy of sending you into a laughing fit. Instead, you rubbed your hands down your face, exhausted in a way that felt almost separate from the case now.

“I can’t believe you,” you muttered, shaking your head as you finally moved, stepping around him to grab a towel from the hall closet.

When you turned back, he was still watching you, carefully, the way he always did—assessing, reading, cataloguing your reaction. The way you hadn’t been answering your phone. The way you were still drained, that bone-deep exhaustion sitting behind your eyes.

Aaron never failed to make you feel seen - for better or for worse. With your messy hair, smeared makeup, and stained sweats, you're not sure how you feel about the in-depth examination your boyfriend is currently giving you.

Aaron would never do anything to make you feel even remotely uncomfortable or ugly but self-consciousness creeps through you, anyway.

You shoved the towel at him.

“You’re actually insane,” you informed him.

He took it, finally moving to scrub some of the rain from his face and hair. “And you should answer your phone. You know, before I feel the need to crawl through your third-story apartment window to check on you.”

"You can just say you miss me, you know." Teasing him is easier with your back to him, planning on warming him up some tea - coffee was out of the question now that he's here, there's no chance he's letting you caffeinate yourself further.

"I missed you," Aaron says, arms snaking around your waist and nose settling in the curve where your shoulder and neck meet. "And I was worried. And I wanted to ask if I could spend the night before we're thrown back into work tomorrow. Is that wrong?"

Fluttering at the base of your stomach erupts instantly at the tone of his deep voice, tone open, honest, and raw.

"Someone's tired," you say, voice soft, hands reaching up to grasp at his forearms. It's not that Aaron isn't affectionate, far from it, but he usually goads into your teasing, resisting for the fun of the give and take. Instead, he's leaning his weight on you, breathing in your scent heavily.

He also climbed through your window to see you. There's that, too.

"Exhausted. And wet. And now so are you." With a flex you can feel through his soaked dress shirt, Aaron lifts you easily and begins walking backward into your room. "I think that means I'm entitled to a shower."

"Aaron!" You giggle out, leaning back against him in lieu of fighting. Your incredibly loving, handsome, and usually-stern boyfriend is carrying you to the shower - who are you to complain?

[batboysanonymous]

Bird in a Cage

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Grief turned Y/N into a ghost of herself, drowning in the unbearable silence of a bond that should have shattered—unaware that her mate still breathed, just beyond her reach.

Based on the song: BLUE by Billie Eilish

───────────────────────────────

Mm, mm, mm I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue I'd like to mean it when I say I'm over you But that's still not true (blue) And I'm still so blue, oh

The City of Starlight was quieter without him.

The kind of silence that did not soothe but suffocated. Velaris had always been a place of light, a sanctuary carved from the darkness, but now, it was a tomb.

Y/N barely recognized herself in the mirror anymore. Where her eyes had once shimmered with life, they were dull now, hollowed by grief. Her skin had paled, lips always cracked from the cold air she no longer cared to shield herself from. Even the bond—her soul’s tether to Azriel—was silent.

It should have broken the moment he died. Should have shattered inside her like glass.

But it hadn’t.

And she hated that it hadn’t.

A cruel, empty thing.

She thought maybe she had imagined it sometimes—the way her chest ached like something tethered her still. But that was just grief, wasn’t it? The way her mind refused to let him go, the way her soul still searched for him, as if refusing to accept the truth.

Her mate. Her husband. Her best friend. Gone.

She curled further into the window seat, a blanket draped over her shoulders, though it did nothing to warm her. Beyond the glass, Velaris glittered under the night sky, so full of life, of movement.

It was unbearable.

“Y/N.”

Rhysand’s voice was gentle, but she did not turn to look at him.

She knew how he saw her. Knew what he was thinking.

That she was slipping away. That she had already slipped too far.

“I brought you dinner.”

She swallowed, staring at the plate that appeared on the small table beside her.

It was her favorite meal. And she had no appetite.

She hadn’t for weeks.

“Eat,” Rhys pressed, lowering himself onto the armchair across from her.

She didn’t.

He sighed.

I thought we were the same (I thought we were the same) Birds of a feather (birds of a feather), now I'm ashamed

“Feyre is worried about you,” he said carefully. “We all are.”

She clenched her jaw.

“Y/N…”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

A beat of silence.

Then, quietly—“The bond hasn’t broken.”

She stiffened.

Her hands curled into the fabric of the blanket, her nails biting into her palm.

“I don’t know why,” she admitted after a long moment, voice hoarse. “I should have—felt it. When he—”

She couldn’t say it.

Rhys was silent.

She turned, meeting his violet eyes for the first time in days. There was something there—something off.

Something withholding.

“… What?” she rasped.

Rhysand shook his head. “Nothing.”

In the back of my mind, I'm still overseas A bird in a cage, thought you were made for me

She wasn’t sure why, but her stomach twisted.

But she let it go.

She had no more energy to fight.

The dream came again that night.

Azriel, standing just beyond the shadows, his hazel eyes locked onto hers.

He never spoke.

Never moved.

Just watched.

And she—she always ran toward him. Always reached for him.

But the moment her fingers brushed his, he would disappear.

Vanishing into smoke.

She woke with a start, chest heaving. The bond—it was there. She could feel it, feel him, but it was distant, muted—like something was blocking it.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

No.

No, she was imagining it.

This was what grief did.

It twisted things, made you believe in impossibilities.

Azriel was dead.

The bond hadn’t broken, and she would never know why.

You were born bluer than a butterfly Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen Colder than your father's eyes He never learned to sympathize with anyone

Rhys was tense when she found him the next morning.

Cassian and Feyre had just left, leaving the two of them alone in the townhouse.

“You’re hiding something.”

It wasn’t a question.

Rhys froze. “Y/N—”

“You’re hiding something.” Her voice wavered, her hands trembling as she stepped toward him. “I—why do I still feel the bond?”

His throat bobbed. “Y/N, I—”

Tell me he’s dead, she wanted to beg.

Tell me I’m wrong.

Tell me I’m losing my mind.

But her brother only stared at her, guilt heavy in his gaze.

Something in her splintered.

Her breath came shallow, sharp.

“… No.”

Rhys’ lips parted, his expression softening. “It’s not what you think—”

“He’s alive?” Her voice broke on the last word.

The walls closed in.

Azriel—her mate, her heart—was alive.

And Rhys had kept it from her.

“I had to,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “Y/N, I had to—”

But she was already moving, already running, because she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Couldn’t understand.

Why?

Why had he lied?

Why had he let her suffer, let her mourn?

Why had he let her break?

Her body was shaking, but she barely registered it.

Azriel was alive.

She had spent weeks drowning in grief, but he was alive.

And Rhys—her brother, the one person she had always trusted—had let her believe otherwise.

I don't blame you But I can't change you Don't hate you But we can't save you

A sob tore from her throat, her knees hitting the floor of the garden.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the pull of the bond—really feeling it for the first time.

It was there. It had always been there.

Distant. Shielded.

Hidden from her.

Her mate.

Her mate was alive.

And she had been drowning in the lie that he wasn’t.

She gasped, head tipping back toward the sky, her entire body trembling with rage, with grief, with hope.

Because she had thought she would never feel him again.

But he was alive.

And she would bring him home.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)

[constantfragmentation]

Agreed.

Do I believe Vander blames himself, that he wronged Silco? Yes, I do. But he really doesn't do much beyond extended a weak olive branch to a trusted friend that he just tried to kill. It wasn't a fight that got out of hand, he tried to kill him.

I don't know about anyone else, but I'm sure as hell not going to seek my attempted murderer out afterwards to 'reconcile'. Yeah, no. Silco isn't going to the their special place in the mines, the Drop or anywhere else in FEAR he may run into his attacker and die the next time.

Let's also not forget, the Felica reason is really stupid. He lost his head? The writing is so weak here. Silco and Vander's break seemed more profound than an accidental death of a mutual friend. People get hurt and die in revolts. They had to know there would be casualties or why bother with revolting against Enforcers, who are heavily armed?

Also, if we use a vague timeline between the Day of Ash, Silco recovering from extensive injuries mentally, emotionally and physically, to the point in Arcane S1E1, WHERE... Vander and Benzo make the comment of 'there are worse things than Enforcers out there" meaning Silco and immediately painting him as the big baddie in the first episode.

So, by the age of the kids supposedly on the Day of Ash and then in Ep1, Vander had YEARS to try and contact Silco. They lived in the Underground, know the same people. There's not exactly an infinite places to stay hidden. Vander and Benzo clearly know Silco is operating in the Undercity.

You can't tell me in all those YEARS, Vander couldn't have made the effort to actually contact Silco and clear shit up. He chose not to and continued painting his 'brother' as a bad guy. For someone who 'never forgave himself', he sure didn't make an effort to find his brother. His effort was the weakest ever.

Even his "I never forgave myself" is hollow. No, buddy, you should have been begging your brother's forgiveness for what you did to him. It's this pathetic attempt of Vander's is what I find insulting. We're supposed to go, "oh look he was sorry , if only Silco KNEW!". But it doesn't address the work needed to regain a person's trust and forgiveness.

Vander didn't put in the effort to deserve Silco's forgiveness. End of story.

The mutliverse episode just felt like a slap in the face in this respect. Silco's personality completely changes which makes ZERO sense. The young Silco and Timeline Silco in S2 don't make any sense compared the characterization of Silco in all of S1.

Young Silco HAD to have traits that build into what makes S1 Older Silco. The drowning isn't going to make those traits magically appear. It was always about the cause. Even if Vander apologized, his handling of the Underground and working with Enforcers is what pits Silco against him. THAT is the betrayal.

I don't think Vander's letter would have done much if we're going off S1 Silco explanation of the drowning and aftermath. Silco tried to see if he could get back the 'old Vander' but also knew it might not happen and had Plan B in the wings.

" I let a weak man die".

Silco decided that the cause was still the most important thing to him and learned not to trust anyone so willingly and blindly.

The Felicia angle is so weak. There is no build-up to this magical trio of friends. Silco doesn't seem to know her kids or vice versa. The kids seems to see Silco as an enemy most likely due to Vander and Benzo.

If Silco was a true friend, why doesn't he know the kids or vice versa? You'd think due to their age prior to the bridge, Silco would be a part of their lives and not just Vander?

S2 was such a disappointing mess. If they really wanted to explore these relationships, then they should have laid some of the groundwork in S1 but didn't. The fact it was dealt with in such a sloppy manner and expected fans to love it? That's what bugs me.

And the blatant character assassination of SO many characters in order to make their plot work.

All of S2 was poorly executed. Period.

y'all. y'all know the letter wasn't the apology right. it was the olive branch. "you know where to find me" was an invitation. he couldn't apologize in a letter. he wanted silco to meet him. yeah it was a shit apology. because it wasn't one. my word.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY ASTARION ANCUNÍN *  assorted dialogue from baldur's gate 3

you are mine. no one can change that.

i wish... to drink. and be drunk.

you haven't earned the right to stare at me like that.

you could scream bloody murder out here and no one would ever know.

we should find a tavern and celebrate.

do my eyes deceive me? the gang really is all here.

i'd rather be the only dark power inside your body, if it's all the same to you.

you're cute, you know. in another life we might have been friends.

i don't hate you. because this is not you.

we just have to be vigilant. keep our wits about us.

you can try, but i will stop you.

do what you like. it's none of my concern.

i simply do not care.

we could do it, you know. we could rule the world.

i... i don't know what to say. thank you.

well that's just disgusting.

listen to me, damn it! i'm trying to save you, even if you're too stupid to see it.

believe what you want. i'm done with you.

you have no idea what i can do.

sounds like a delightful dinner plan. perhaps i'll join you.

forgiveness? you've never forgiven anything.

i don't need anyone to speak for me.

i don't owe you a damn thing.

don't worry. i'll keep watch tonight.

just don't ask me again.

is there anything else? any new and interesting ways you can waste my time?

i'll come to you tonight, when you're snugly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy.

this time i'll make sure i'm quiet.

you're lucky i'm such an open-minded person.

why send anyone after me? i'm hardly a threat out here.

what are you waiting for? help me!

"you can do whatever you want" sounds terrifying, and it is, but there's opportunity in it, too.

i am so much more than what you made me.

hold very, very still.

i'm sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?

get out of my way. i'm in no mood to talk.

you didn't think i could do it? i'm hurt.

i appreciate your loyalty, darling, but i don't think you understand.

fair? nothing about this is fair.

i don't know who they are, but i have plenty of questions.

i'm glad to hear it.

i do believe you. i know you only did what you thought was best for me.

i just need some time to let it sink in.

you're so good to me.

safe? how can i ever be safe now?

well, hello. looking for a cuddle?

now that you're back with us, we need to have a talk.

how flattering. and disturbing.

please tell me this is important.

there's also gold, sex, revenge... quite the list, really. but failing any of those, i will always settle for shallow praise.

now just tell me i'm beautiful and we can call it a day.

i want to thank you.

you're a vision. and you're so much more than that.

this is all a game to you, isn't it?

for as long as i can remember, i've been used by others.

of course i was attracted to you. look at you, for goodness' sake!

i will forever remember what you did for me today.

that's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? that's what you want?

i have been waiting so long for you.

come, give yourself to me.

i'll take care of everything.

it's time to try living again.

i feel safe with you. seen.

we don't have to rush into anything tonight.

would it kill you to dispense a compliment?

looking for something?

honestly, you have no sense of fun.

i do appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's try to restrain ourselves a little.

would you like a tour? we can start with my tent, if you like.

everything was taken from me, too.

well, that could have gone better.

i don't know what you mean.

were you actually worried i was angry?

so what was it like? tell me everything.

i hope i'm not interrupting.

some day that soft heart of yours is going to be torn out of your chest.

what a party. we should do this again.

there you are. i've been waiting. waiting since the moment i set eyes on you. waiting to have you.

you've seen enough already.

i didn't want to lose control.

oh, don't be like that. not every problem has to be beaten to death, my dear.

wait! don't interrupt them!

let's not make trouble for some stranger.

my, this place is fun.

my past isn't exactly a happy story.

that was amazing.

it won't happen again. you have my word.

so many people need killing.

remember who saved you.

don't worry. i'm here.

[luvashli]

ESCAPISM

SYNOPSIS -> After a painful breakup with Heeseung, you lose yourself in a wild night of partying. Niki becomes your distraction, leading to heated dances and passionate kisses. But as morning comes, you’re left wondering if it was just an escape or something more.

PAIRING -> nonidol!ni-ki x fem!reader (ex!heeseung)

GENRE -> oneshot, romance, drama, angst, suggestive, emotional, mature

STARTED -> 2/12/2025

STATUS -> complete

WC -> 2.7k

Note -> This oneshot is inspired by the song “Escapism” by Raye. While the story contains suggestive themes and intense emotional tension, it does not include explicit smut.

click here for the song “Escapism” by Raye

click here for part 2

Masterlist

It happened last night.

You sat across from Heeseung in your favorite café, the one you always went to after his late-night practices. The air between you was thick—he was fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie, avoiding your gaze, while you stirred your coffee without drinking it.

You could feel it before he even said the words.

“Y/N… we need to talk.”

Your fingers tensed around your spoon. Those words never meant anything good.

“About what?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Heeseung finally looked at you then, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t see the warmth that used to be there. Instead, you saw hesitation. Guilt.

“This… us,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Heeseung, what are you saying?”

He sighed heavily, finally meeting your eyes. “I think we should end this.”

The words hit harder than you expected.

“Why?” you whispered.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across his face. “You know why, Y/N. This… this isn’t working anymore. I don’t have time. You don’t have time. We barely see each other, and when we do, we’re just fighting or pretending like everything’s fine. It’s not fine.”

Your stomach twisted. Yes, things had been tense lately. Late-night arguments over missed dates, his phone always buzzing with notifications he wouldn’t let you see, the way he seemed distant even when he was right in front of you.

But you loved him. And you thought he still loved you, too.

“You’re giving up on us?” you asked, your voice cracking.

His jaw tightened. “I just… I don’t think we’re good for each other anymore.”

You felt like you were drowning.

“So that’s it?”

Heeseung swallowed hard, looking down at the table. He wouldn’t even fight for you.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

And that was the part that hurt the most. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t cruel. He was just… done.

You walked out before he could see the tears spill down your face.

---

The city hums beneath you, neon lights flashing in sync with the pounding bass inside the club. The music is loud—loud enough to drown out your thoughts, loud enough to replace the echoes of his voice from last night.

"I think we should end this."

Cold. Empty. Like the months you spent loving him meant nothing.

So now you’re here. Dressed in sin, drowning in liquor, looking for something—someone—to make you forget.

The champagne fizzes in your glass as you swirl it absentmindedly, perched at the bar with your legs crossed, your heels dangling from your feet. You don’t trust the people you came with. They’re friends of friends, girls who smile too wide and whisper too much. But that doesn’t matter. Tonight, nothing matters.

Then, he walks in.

Ni-ki.

He moves like he owns the room—tall, lean, and effortlessly confident. His dark eyes scan the crowd, taking in everything, calculating. But then they land on you.

And they stay.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he approaches, his presence commanding in a way that makes your skin tingle. He leans against the bar beside you, close enough that you catch the scent of his cologne—something clean, sharp, expensive.

"Buy me a drink?" you ask, tilting your head.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," he replies smoothly.

He orders two wines without breaking eye contact, and the bartender slides them over. You take a sip, letting the bitter warmth spread through you, letting it replace the ache in your chest.

"Rough night?" he muses, watching you.

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. "More like a rough life."

He doesn’t push for details. He just clinks his glass against yours. "To forgetting, then."

And just like that, you fall into the night with him.

---

The alcohol makes everything blur—makes it easier to laugh, easier to let go. One drink turns into three, into five. You’re on the dance floor now, the bass vibrates through your chest, the rhythm pulsing like a second heartbeat. The club is packed—bodies moving, drinks spilling, neon lights flashing across the dance floor in a kaleidoscope of color. But none of it matters.

Because the moment Ni-ki pulls you into him, hands firm on your waist, the entire world narrows down to just the two of you.

Your body moves instinctively to the music, swaying with the beat, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Ni-ki’s grip tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you, only heat and the electric tension that’s been building between you all night.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, and there’s something wicked in them—something teasing, something daring. He’s testing you, seeing how far you’ll let this go.

So you decide to push back.

You turn in his arms, pressing your back against his chest, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles. His sharp inhale is almost lost beneath the pounding music, but you feel it. You feel everything—his hands spreading across your stomach, his breath against the shell of your ear, the way his fingers flex like he’s barely holding himself together.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he murmurs, voice low, laced with amusement.

You glance over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips. “Maybe.”

His response is immediate. One hand slides down, fingers splaying over your hip, guiding your movements with a firm, calculated grip. He’s in control now, and he wants you to know it.

You let your head fall back against his shoulder as you move together, the tension between you tightening with every sway, every roll of your hips against his. The heat of his body is overwhelming, the scent of his cologne intoxicating, and you know you’re playing a dangerous game.

But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?

Ni-ki leans down, his lips brushing against your jaw, the touch featherlight, teasing. His fingers trail up your arm, over your bare shoulder, until they find the strap of your dress, tugging it just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You should be careful,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of warning and promise.

You turn in his arms again, chest pressed against his, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket. The air between you is thick, heavy, charged. Your heart pounds, and you know—you know—that if you lean in just a little more, his lips will be on yours.

“And if I don’t want to be careful?” you challenge, tilting your chin up, eyes locked onto his.

Ni-ki’s smirk deepens.

“Then we have a problem.”

His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as the music thrums around you, drowning out everything except the way he feels against you. The way he looks at you—like he already knows exactly how this night is going to end.

And for once, you don’t care about the consequences.

So you let yourself get lost in him, in the music, in the escape.

Because tonight, that’s all that matters.

___

By the time you stumble out of the club, giggling as the cold night air bites at your skin, you’re too far gone to care about anything but him. His hand finds yours, steadying you as you both slip into the back of a waiting taxi.

The city lights blur past the window, but you’re not looking at them. You’re looking at him. The sharp cut of his jaw, the way his lips part slightly as he watches you.

The air inside the taxi is thick with tension, crackling like electricity between you and Ni-ki. The city blurs past outside the window, neon lights flashing across his sharp features, casting shadows across his cheekbones. His hand rests on your thigh, just barely, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your skin.

It’s nothing. It’s everything.

Your breath hitches, your body already reacting to the unspoken pull between you. You don’t know what it is about him—maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like he’s daring you to do something reckless, or maybe it’s the way he hasn’t asked you any questions, hasn’t pried into the wounds you’re trying to drown in champagne and cheap thrills.

“Are you always like this?” he asks suddenly, voice smooth, teasing.

You turn to him, tilting your head slightly. “Only when I don’t want to feel.”

His eyes flicker with something—understanding, maybe. A silent acknowledgment that he knows what it’s like to run from something, too.

You don’t ask what he’s running from. And he doesn’t ask about you.

His gaze flickers down to your lips, and something dark flickers in his eyes. You don’t miss the way his fingers tighten slightly against your thigh, the way his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.

You should wait. You should think. But you don’t want to.

Instead, you shift closer, closing the space between you until your breaths mix, until you can feel the warmth of him against your skin.

“And right now?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

“Right now, I don’t want to feel anything at all,” you breathe.

That’s all it takes.

Ni-ki moves first. His hand slides up, fingers grazing the bare skin of your thigh, igniting something in you that’s been burning all night. He catches your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up just enough to bring his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow at first, deliberate—like he’s testing you, like he’s seeing how far you’ll let this go. But you don’t hold back. You press into him, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer, deeper.

And just like that, the tension snaps.

He groans softly against your lips as his hands slide to your waist, tugging you toward him, his grip firm, possessive. The taxi is moving too fast, or maybe not fast enough, because you can’t get close enough to him, can’t feel enough of him.

You bite his lower lip, just enough to make him inhale sharply, his fingers tightening around you in response. His hands are warm, rough in a way that makes you shiver, in a way that makes you forget everything except the way he’s touching you.

Your back presses against the cool leather of the taxi seat as he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, sending heat spiraling through you. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your dress, tracing slow, agonizing patterns along the inside of your thigh, teasing.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath uneven.

You smirk, tilting your head back slightly, your own hands slipping beneath his shirt, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. “And you like it.”

His responding chuckle is dark, low. “Yeah. I do.”

The driver clears his throat loudly. You barely register it, too caught up in the feeling of Ni-ki’s mouth on your skin, his lips trailing along your jaw, down the column of your throat.

“We’re almost there,” the driver mutters.

You exhale sharply, forcing yourself to pull away, your pulse racing. Ni-ki watches you, his lips swollen, his breathing uneven, his fingers still pressing into your thigh like he doesn’t want to let go just yet.

“Hotel,” he says to the driver, voice rough. “Now.”

And as the taxi speeds up, you realize something.

You may not want to feel.

But with Ni-ki, you’re going to.

___

The elevator ride is suffocating.

Not because there’s no air, but because every inch of space between you and Ni-ki is filled with tension so thick, it’s almost unbearable. His fingers press into your waist, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. You can feel his breath against your temple, the scent of liquor and something undeniably him mixing in the confined space.

Neither of you speak. You don’t need to.

The ding of the elevator doors opening barely registers before you’re moving, stepping out onto the hotel floor with Ni-ki’s hand gripping yours, leading you down the dimly lit hallway. His pace is hurried, purposeful, like he’s barely holding himself together. Like he’s been waiting for this all night.

The second the hotel door swings shut behind you, the restraint shatters.

Ni-ki is on you in an instant, pressing you against the door with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs. His lips crash against yours, hungry, demanding, his hands gripping your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You moan into the kiss, fingers threading into his dark hair, tugging just enough to make him growl low in his throat. The sound sends a rush of heat straight through you, making your knees weak. You don’t want to think. You don’t want to feel anything but him.

Ni-ki’s hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, tracing over your curves like he’s memorizing every inch of you. His fingers hook into the straps of your dress, dragging them down your shoulders, his lips trailing after them, kissing a slow, burning path down your collarbone.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, voice rough with desire.

Your head tips back against the door as his mouth finds the sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. Your hands move instinctively, slipping under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. He shrugs it off easily, then tugs his shirt over his head, revealing toned skin and sharp lines that make your mouth go dry.

You don’t get the chance to admire him for long before he’s lifting you effortlessly, his hands gripping your thighs as he carries you toward the bed. You gasp, arms wrapping around his shoulders, but he just smirks, pressing another hot kiss to your lips as he lays you down against the cool sheets.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, hovering above you, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

You don’t hesitate.

“I want this,” you whisper. “I want you.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Ni-ki kisses you again, slower this time, savoring the way you melt beneath him. His hands explore your body with an intoxicating mix of tenderness and urgency, fingers skimming down your waist, gripping your thighs, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches.

He takes his time, pulling your dress down inch by inch, watching the fabric slip away from your body with a hunger that makes your pulse race. His lips follow the path of his hands, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, your hips, teasing you, torturing you.

“You’re driving me insane,” he mutters against your skin, his voice raw.

You smirk, arching into him, dragging your nails down his back. “Then do something about it.”

And he does.

The night dissolves into a blur of heat and tangled sheets, of whispered names and desperate touches, of lips and hands and bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. Every kiss, every touch, every breath is an escape—an escape from reality, from heartbreak, from the pain you refuse to acknowledge.

And for a few fleeting hours, nothing else matters.

Not Heeseung.

Not the past.

Not the consequences.

Only this. Only him.

---

Morning comes too soon.

The sun cuts through the curtains, painting the room in harsh light. Your head is pounding, your throat dry, your body aching in a way that isn’t just physical.

You blink, trying to remember. Flashes of last night come back in pieces—his hands, his lips, the way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Beside you, Ni-ki stirs. His arm drapes lazily over your waist, his face buried in the pillow. Peaceful. Unbothered. Like this is just another night for him.

And maybe that’s all it was.

You slip out of bed, pulling the sheet around you as you search for your dress. The air is heavy, suffocating, and the second you find your phone, you see the unread messages from him.

Heeseung.

I shouldn’t have ended things like that.

Can we talk?

You inhale sharply, your fingers hovering over the screen.

Last night, you thought you had buried the pain under alcohol, under Ni-ki’s touch. But now, in the quiet of the morning, the weight of everything settles back onto your chest.

Your chest tightens.

You should feel something. Anger. Sadness. Relief. But instead, there’s just... nothing.

Because this was never about getting over him.

It was about escaping.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re still running.

Would you like a part two?? Let me know :))

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