#And that makes me think what else in these books does he not care about
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bunni-v1 · 9 hours ago
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Pls the thing with Jamil from your Yuu being wary of scarabia post and why he kept Yuu around like that. Elaborate I’m begging you it’s too interesting of a dynamic before and after. I can pay you in my adoration keep it up here!
🍓Okay so I really haven't touched twst in a long time, but this idea continues to haunt me. I think about it so frequently, and I've been into twst again because of Malleus statue, so I decided to revisit this concept. It's more of a big long ramble, but I do hope you like it <3
TW: Manipulation; Creepy behavior; Power imbalance; This IS written with implied romance (but it's pretty fucked up and toxic); Possessive behaviors; unedited
Info: Jamil x Reader; Angst
Disclaimer: Jamil is an incredibly complex character with very contradictory actions throughout the whole of book four. This is my take on his character, and it may not align with how you view him. It's important to note that the only canon interpretation of his character is what is in-game and official depictions.
Post referenced
Jamil is very aware of you far before you're aware of him. He makes it his job to know who to avoid, and you're very high up on that list. You have a reputation that he's pretty certain you're not fully aware of, and trouble seems to follow you wherever you go. It's not really something he wants to have to deal with.
For whatever reason, though, he does end up bringing you back to Scarabia. In part, this is almost a power play on his part. You make him have a sense of power he doesn't really have with anyone else around NRC, even as vice housewarden. You rely on him, and your naivety is something addicting to someone who craves power. Not to mention he also considers that you could help him sell his story much better.
Kalim abusing the magicless, helpless human from another world would only make his case for upheaval all the better amongst his dorm members. So to start it's all part of his plan, a means of stroking his ego.
However, the issue comes in when he makes a genuine connection with you. You are kind, generous, and understanding with no real ulterior motives -- a genuineness he hasn't really experienced before. Of course, he doesn't actually open up to you much. He keeps you pretty distant, despite how he does his best to play up that warm and welcoming persona. But he does give you crumbs of his real struggle, shrouded in manipulation.
He finds himself... attached. Jealous of any time you spend with Kalim, wanting to keep your attention on him, and desperate to sell the idea of Kalim as a monster to you more than others. It's an odd feeling for Jamil, who doesn't usually care for more than surface-level appearances and feelings. It's just another addition to his ultimate overblot, and he's quite terrifying when he does finally blot.
One of the very first things he does is isolate you from your "friends" (if you can count the tweels and Azul as friends at this point), making sure your attention is on him. He wants you to worship him, he wants that reliance that he craved so much in the time you spent together, he wants to feel powerful. Next to you, he feels so very powerful.
I don't even believe he would do anything violent or too cruel, mostly just worshiping and demanding attention and praise. It's not much different from what you normally go through, though a little less blatantly violent and aggressive. That's what makes it so awful to you, though.
Before everyone else was just blatantly being... evil. Jamil manipulated, lied, extorted, and so much more. You liked Jamil, you genuinely thought he wanted to be friends with you and meant well. He reveals otherwise in your time (sort of) alone with him, and it really shakes you up. It would shake anyone up.
What's worse is you don't have time to process all that terror and anger and betrayal. Everything happens in such quick succession, one moment you're being kidnapped and the next there's a grand celebration. It's all too much for your brain to process, and it only gets the chance to do so when Ace and Deuce -- your safe space -- come to get you.
Your reaction, on the surface, seems incredibly dramatic. Collapsing and sobbing until your throat is so raw you can't make noise, but after the trauma you've endured, it's wholly reasonable. Jamil falls into the former way of thinking, believing you're just being overdramatic and theatrical. You'd been through many overblots at this point, with much more powerful sorcerers... this reaction is a bit much...
After all's said and done, though, Jamil doesn't spare you much thought. Of course, there is a lingering sense of... something. Not quite guilt, not quite regret, just an ache that he doesn't have the time or energy to address himself. He's far too busy dealing with his own reputation and wellbeing to bother you.
Your sobs, though, they keep him up at night. He has dreams where he hears them tear through the silence, and they continue to ring in his ears long after he's woken up. He isn't sure why it's bothering him so much, it really shouldn't, but it does. It's a constant nag at his conscience, just a bug that he swats away when he doesn't want to think about it.
He doesn't have to confront it until he comes face to face with you during VDC auditions. The genuine terror on your face when he looks at you, like he might overblot then and there again, it's sobering. He'd seen that look a million times on his parents faces, horror as they face punishment from the Asim's. It's not a face he'd imagined he would be the cause of -- not a face he wanted to be the cause of.
It hits him hard in that moment just how... evil he was. He knew he was bad. He's fully aware he's selfish and the stunt he pulled was something unspeakable in a lot of ways. Yet, he never thought he would have to deal with someone looking at him like that, someone thinking of him the same way he thinks of his captors.
It's just his luck that he can't avoid you, ending up on the official VDC team and literally living in your space. It's not just you, either, both Ace and Deuce seem to hate his guts with a passion. Grim voices that anger all the time, and Kalim doesn't help the tension with his guilty puppy demeanor. You do end up forgiving Kalim, thanks to Kalim finally making an active effort by himself for once. Jamil won't lie and say it doesn't make him a little jealous, but he also fully understands he doesn't deserve your forgiveness.
He doesn't push or pull, he just allows you to do what you will. It's not his place to push or pull, you are the only person who can decide what you need. He won't apologize unless you seem to want him to by seeking him out, he won't ask for forgiveness unless you seem willing to give it to him. He just allows you to be, which is quite honestly the best reaction you've gotten from any former overblotees.
He, of course, ends up confessing this all to his sister. Heavily edited and censored, for her own wellbeing. Najma tells him he's a moron, but encourages him to make amends with you, or at least try to let you know he's sorry. Without him knowing, she even talks to you about it a bit when you visit the Scalding Sands. There is a notable shift in your comfortability around him after it, though he doesn't know why this is.
He does eventually get the chance to talk to you, though you have to approach him. It's a quiet night when it happens, and he just couldn't sleep and the warm air in the dorm was making his skin far too hot, so he takes a walk and ends up outside of your dorm. His guilt led him there like an idiot, a rare show of vulnerability.
You, who also couldn't sleep, saw him out there and invited him despite better judgment. He accepts, despite his own better judgment, and finally, you talk. He expects anger and hatred, but of course, you cannot manage that even against him. You are understanding and gentle, even with the way you tremble as you speak. He gets to apologize, genuinely, for scaring you and doing the things he did. Explains that he, at some point, was genuine about his friendliness with you. That he did like having you around, but all of that means nothing with what's already happened.
Whether or not you two fix things and are able to be friends is up to you, but you do both get closure.
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cloversnstrawberries · 9 hours ago
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oc intro post ! ! older brother!platonic yandere!80s slasher
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masterlist | requests open !
warnings; yandere behavior, possessiveness, overprotective behavior, mentions of murder, violence, serial killings, and past bullying of reader; manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment, delusions (zachary thinks he's just protecting you), mental instability, and there might be more i forgot :(( if so, please let me know if i should add!!
additional notes; i'm very tired right now, but i just had to get this out of my system,,, here is the next runner up from the poll, Zachary!! i don't know what else to say. uh. go subscribe to dead meat !!! also i hope u enjoy :)
! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !
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Sometime around the mid-1980s, in a small town right dab smack in the middle of the American Midwest; resided you and your family, consisting of you, your mom, your dad, your family dog--
And your older brother, Zachary. By all accounts, he was the quintessential all-american teen. It was almost like he was ripping right from the sitcoms and various movies and TV that followed high schoolers.
...Except for one teensy little detail, that if discovered, would shatter his entire persona. All he was would be brought into question-- for good reason, he supposes, but that doesn't make it any less annoying to think about the possibility of his secret being outed.
That being the fact he was the Fools Killer-- I mean, no one would suspect Zachary! You'd have to be crazy to accuse him of being the maniac going around in a jesters costume, killing people with no obvious rhyme or reason.
You'd be right, but you'd still be crazy. Zachary wouldn't do something like that! He was a kind, caring, and popular guy. He was the kind that'd help you pick up books after spilling them in the hallway, or pay for his friends if they couldn't afford food at the moment.
He was your brother, and he was a great one at that. The part where he (noticeably) differed from the depictions of his kind of small-town golden boy, was that he wasn't cruel to you at all.
If anything, he was so nice to you that people questioned it. How could siblings be so close? Sure, you fought-- just like everyone else did. Fought over stupid stuff, like your brother pouring himself a 1/2 gram more of soda than he poured you, or for a spot on the couch;
Normal stuff. But other than that, you didn't really butt heads. No mocking, no mean-spirited teasing, or purposeful humiliation.
He was, however, very protective of you. At first it was manageable, when you were younger-- still was, to an extent. It all hit a head about a year ago, when he yelled at you for not telling him you were getting picked on. That he would've dealt with it, before you got the big blackeye you'd come home with.
That was the one and only time he ever yelled at you.
The boy who gave you that black eye disappeared shortly after-- and is commonly thought of as the first victim of the Fools Killer. You don't make the connection, even as more and more people disappear around you; people who dared to slight you,
Who dared to slight Zachary's precious little sibling.
He thought of it as... pest control, really. These people weren't going to go anywhere in life anyways, with how they treated you.
Really, you were the most precious thing on Earth to Zachary-- he refused to believe that it wasn't simply fact. It slipped his mind that everyone else was so stupid, unable to see how brightly you shined.
he was just protecting you, is all-- and it relieved his stress as well. He felt bad for snapping on you, he really does; but it'd been so cathartic to deal with the little shit himself,
It's for your own good, that he's secretly become Fools Killer. He's just protecting you-- both from others, and from him ever yelling at you again. You didn't deserve it.
It's for your own good that he keeps you in the dark as long as possible-- but when, eventually, his clever little sibling figures out Zachary's little 'hobby', or walks in at a less-than-ideal time;
Well, it's hardly his fault if he has to take you somewhere else, so he can take care of you. You don't need anyone else. He's always been here for you-- more than your parents, in his mind.
besides, he's a pretty damn good actor. He was practically born ready to play the part of a grieving brother, doing all he can to try and find his missing little sibling; afraid that they too had ended up as a victim of the recent killings.
Knowing damn well where you were, kept safe and sound in a little shed/hangout you two's dad had built Zachary when he was younger, as a place to escape from it all.
It was surprisingly easy to make into a living space for you-- and even easier to lock it down, lock you down, and make sure you can't leave.
it's all for your own good, after all! He knows the phrase usually goes mother knows best... but he's sure whoever invented the saying wouldn't be too mad if he altered it to fit his purposes, right?
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tribow · 1 day ago
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So I watched Natsume Yuujinchou
or "Natsume's Book of Friends" for the English title.
I was pleasantly surprised by this one. It's a real nice slice of life anime. I'm writing this as of watching season 1 and I'm absolutely going to continue watching this one.
Anyway what's it about? Youkai! Easy way to hook me in immediately. If you involve youkai (or similar folklore creatures) in a story I'm immediately interested. Even so, despite my strong bias on the subject matter, I promise it's done very well.
The titular character, Natsume, is a highschooler born with the ability to see and interact with youkai. Growing up while being able to see supernatural phenomena while everyone else can't was rough for him. (If you don't know what youkai are, think of Natsume's situation like being able to see ghosts.) His parent's weren't even sure how to deal with him and sent him off to their relatives instead of raising the child themselves.
Natsume's character is defined by his isolation, but also by the few people he has met that has shown him real kindness. His current family earnestly cares about him, but he hides the fact that he can see youkai from them, as he does with everyone. He has learned that doing so will lead to isolation, but ironically hiding what he can see isolates him from other people as well.
However, Natsume's ability isn't unique to himself. His grandmother could also see youkai, and she's infamous for creating the "Book of Friends." This book contains the names of tons of youkai, and with that book, you can essentially control any youkai whose name is written in it. For a long time Natsume would have to deal with some youkai targeting him, and this was why. Having now learned that he has his grandmother's book, Natsume resolves to return the names of youkai.
Why?
Well watch the show. I could sit here and summarize it, but that doesn't make for a good review. The story....or at least season one of the story....focuses on that theme: isolation. It's not just Natsume, but many of the youkai he encounters that deal with it in their own ways. As a result, each episode ends on a pretty bittersweet note.
Isolation comes in many forms; loss, rejection, protection, selfishness, resentment, and much more. People, and in this case, youkai experience it in many ways, but instead of wallowing in its own despair, this anime focuses heavily dealing with it positively.
I appreciate this anime's willingness to show very sad situations and the characters involved are pretty mature about it. I can imagine this anime helping actual people deal with their own struggles with isolation.
Now, that's not this anime's only theme. It would be fairly shallow if that's all it had to say. You got some action, comedy, and drama here or there. There's some nice character development going on as well. I really like how the show is written overall.
I wouldn't say its at a "masterpiece" quality since there are definitely some jumps in logic that happens sometimes. It definitely makes some poor excuses to set up certain scenes, but I can't complain too much. These issues only show up for a few episodes.
Speaking of the episodes, they're all self-contained. There's a linear narrative of course, but every episodes concludes itself and does not inform what happens in the next episode. This made it strangely hard to binge for me since there isn't a hook to keep you watching. I loved the show, but each episodes ends on such a satisfying note I want to do something else and come back to it later. Weird.
Anyway, Brain's Base was animating this one! Y'know these guys really take on a wide variety of stuff huh? Natsume is an interesting one since it's both very laid back and has some action. I wouldn't say Brain's Base went particularly crazy here, but you can see the effort put into a lot of shots. The animation looks good, but it's humble. Nothin real fancy going on, but the visual direction does a great job at conveying this story.
I have a feeling this is one of the shows Brain's Base is proud of, and it's successful too! This anime goes on for several more seasons and I'm pretty excited to keep going with it.
What's real crazy is that I've never heard anyone talk about this anime before. This is good! Real good! I highly recommend this to anybody, even if you have never seen anime before. It's rare that I get to say that because there's usually some caveat to an anime that makes it hard to recommend to anybody, but there's nothing to worry about here! It's good, great even.
Maybe it just couldn't reach a large western audience. It is dealing with youkai after all. That's a shame, but hey, it doesn't mean you can't watch it now! Give it a try!
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s0lar-ch3ri · 1 day ago
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okay hi waves im making a vers on here so the chat can read it (theres mentions of being sick ofc, animal death [its quick and about rats], and brief descriptions of kissing) I FINISHED IT LATE LAST NIGHT SO IF ITS WEIRD MAYBE THATS WHY ANYWAYS TAKE IT
Vyncent, or Virion, whatever name you’d like, he had no room to care right now, had lived on Prime for months. He might have even been here a year, hard to tell. Things get busy as an elf-boy superhero with your home world’s great heroes in your brain that give you use, who happens to have befriended a red head with so much energy and the power to kill the sun in a kick if he wanted, a white haired guy who had a book that could just make your worst of nightmares look tame and also sometimes a fairy, and a dead black-haired boy who couldn’t stop meeting the dead for some reason. Lots of stuff in Vyncent’s life.
So could someone explain to him that what was a common cold for anybody else here put Virion out of commission? Sure, he was more prone to getting sick, he’d face it like every other week, but at least then he could hide it! Sick wasn’t good back home. Sick was a death sentence, and this was why. When you can’t get up, you can’t run, you can’t fight. If healing magic didn’t fix you, it may work best to cut that loss yourself.
Unfortunately, Vyncent didn’t have healing magic, and trying to reach the Greats while you feel so uncomfortable and gross and, well, sick, you might rather eat rat poison. As such, he had to bug Will about it. He hasn’t even seen Will get a cough now that he’s thinking about it. Granted, he was dead and awesome, so maybe that had something to do with it.
“You’re not normally this hot, right? I have to make sure, again.” Will’s fingertips were slightly blackened, and the cold feeling on his forehead while nice almost made him jump. Right, dead boy cold. Cold dead boy. Cold hot dead boy- no, elf boy hot, dead boy cold. Yes, this made sense and was logical. Don’t question Vyncent, he’s normal and fine minus everything wrong with him.
“Mmm mmgh,” an excellent denial from Vyncent. He’s so good at this.
“Right, just…how long are you normally sick? Like, back home, does it get this bad? Do you guys even get sick there, or do you just, I dunno, shoot it better?”
He better not be mockin’ me.
He’s Will. He likes living, or whatever he is right now.
Right, the Greats. Not always Will’s biggest fans, but they weren’t going to come out while sick so rather than hear his voice insult his friend, he heard all their comments and thoughts insulting his friend. Bothering him, that’s what they’re “Great” at (he should leave the puns to the other guys).
“Mgh…” Great stuff Virion. Let’s see how William responds.
“Great stuff Vynce.” He puts a bowl on the table which seems to have a collection of ingredients that regular soup didn’t have.
“What’s-” He coughed a bit, cursed lungs. “What in that?”
“It’s a soup, just with stuff that you can actually eat. Like rats and stuff. I tried to put some medicine in it, just to see.”
“Where’d-” More coughs. “Where’d the rats come from?”
Will shudders. “I don’t think you want to know.”
Vyncent laughed a bit. He let his brain indulge itself, imagining what may have happened to get them. The image of him hunting the rats kept appearing in there. If his ears were a little more red, he’d blame being sick.
He just brought you soup, calm down lover boy.
Shut up, shut up shut up shut up.
[I think the kid’s embarrassed.]
Come on Stryder, pleaseeeeee.
Your pining is not hard to spot.
NOT YOU TOO ALPHONZ.
Vyncent turned over to his side, using the pillow to cover his ears as if that’ll work, groaning the whole time.
“You good man?”
“Yeah…’m jus’ feeling stupid…”
“Nobody feels too great when sick.”
“Mghh…”
“Can we try some soup? It should help, and you do have to eat.”
Vyncent had been so out of it, he forgot how long it had been since he ate. Maybe that’s why he felt so shit. Memory is dumb and should die forever. This is a logical conclusion. Vyncent was always a man of logic. You had to trust him.
He turned back over to Will, who happened to pull off the sickly look very well, attempting to push himself up so he could eat something. He could do things for himself, surely. Don’t ask him how well he’d do at them, because he wouldn’t lie and say he’d be great, cause that’s totally not lying. Totally.
I hope you can hear the sarcasm.
“No man, don’t- just sit back, it- it’s fine. You look deathly man, that’s coming from me.”
The emphasis was joking, making Vyncent giggle.
“Fine…”
“Save the energy.”
Like a baby, Vyncent was spoon fed soup, which the comparison he’d make would hurt more if he wasn’t just stuck on Will. His face was heating up, sure, but maybe it was less than the illness. Maybe it was more Will.
[He’s finally admitting it, good gods, took you long enough.]
Shhhhhhhhut it.
You’d think he’d have picked up on it by now, how bad you are.
Be ‘iet….
“Hm?”
“They're being loud…”
“Greats?”
“Mhm…they’re judging me.”
“About what? If they’re being dicks, uh- well, I couldn’t really fight Alphonz. Or Min. Or Ram. Or any of them- I’ll pretend like I can fight them!”
Vyncent laughs at this guy, this idiot he adores with all his heart, no matter how much of it will admit that. “Bout how pretty you are.”
Vyncent didn’t recall ever seeing Will blush, but this seemed, like, close to it. He starts nervously chuckling. “You really think that?”
“Mhm, ‘art of why I like you.”
He saw the cogs in Will’s brain malfunction and sputter. Did it make him lose it inside to have said that? Sure, but in the end, it’s Will. He’d hate to lose a friend right now, but he’s done worse and stuck around, and maybe in the end, Will could find someone who doesn’t get sick every other week.
“I- Uh- Vynce you feeling alright? Your forehead is really hot.” He starts nervously chuckling again. He did that a lot.
“Mhm, dead boy hot.”
Someone’s gained guts! Finally!
I actually have 0 idea what I’m doing and I don’t think I can back down now, so uh, thanks.
[Oh, yeah, no. You actually suck ass at this.]
Thanks asshole.
It is not a failure on your end. Your courting attempts seem to be affecting him well.
There was a detail in Will’s eyes. Just a glint of something. Was it hope, denial, something that was any more terrifying? Vyncent has little idea what’s happening at this point until they do. He’s going to hold onto that look though. He hopes it's something better than he could be. Just maybe something that gives him a sign.
“You- uh, you’re a hot elf boy, man, yeah.” He stumbled around his words, trying to not make eye contact. He sat on the sofa a bit awkwardly.
This is so stupid. I’m so stupid for this- the last sane thoughts of Vyncent as he moves- I’m so so terribly dumb for this. With a loss of any sanity and dignity he gets up and somewhat crawls over to William. He’s locked onto William’s eyes, and maybe his lips. Maybe this rotten dead man can be the medicine to cure him. His sickness feels a bit deeper than medical anyways.
“V-Vynce? W-Something up man?”
He cups Will’s face with a hand and rubs his thumb against his cheek. This is wrong, this is so so stupid and wrong and maybe Vyncent knows but also he has never felt this confidence and honestly? May as well use it to his advantage, the Fallen Ones know he would never get to do this again, not being this confident.
Vyncent had never kissed anybody. Kissing wasn’t exactly a Fauna thing, at least not what Vyncent learned, so this was new. It was a new sensation. On a regular level, this was just pushing his lips against another pair of lips. Emotionally, he was in a dream land. Things felt great. Will’s cold lips were a nice startlement, a shock turned to a calming cool throughout his body. They basically melted from the initial surprise into the kiss, Vyncent laying on top of Will as he light-headedly pulled back.
“...Woah.”
“‘Retty nice. You…your lips ‘aste ‘ice.” Vyncent had a love-strivenly stupid smile, and at this point, hiding from himself or Will was futile. It felt soft and comfortable in this moment, and knowing that even if he was weird inside, Will wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t have to either, Virion could lay on this couch and he didn’t have to run. He didn’t have to hide. That was something to like. He snuggled into Will.
“Movie ‘ight?”
“I- sure man. Not the weirdest it could be.”
“I like this.”
“Love you too, Vynce.”
Love you too.
who up ghosting their sick knife
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ford-ye-fiji · 10 months ago
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anyway dune part 2 has induced in me a feeling of great anxiety about the next movie. I'm afraid Denis is going to drift away from the the original story, especially with his announcement to only be making Dune Messiah next which is not the conclusion of the story at all (Children of Dune is really the natural stopping point and the “conclusion” of Paul's story) and makes me feel like the focus is being shifted from what Frank Herbert wrote to something else entirely.
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discjude · 9 months ago
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Yeah this is about right (as always my thoughts are in the tags so there's actually kei content there lmao)
#Hester I adore you they could never make me hate you. Seriously the first chapter in 6 (bad candy) is like my favourite opener#Kei they could NEVER EVER make me hate you. did nothing wrong ever. rhian when I CATCH you#its so funny how my two favourite characters just like. hate each other. like japeth literally kills him#sad cause they're so SIMILAR. theyre both victims of Dog Metaphor its so sad that kei does Not like japeth in the slightest#personally if they had a good long discussion about their emotions at like 3am they could've probably stopped TCY from happening#but alas. Aric. somehow its all his fault again. why do I have an aricposting tag but not a keiposting one.#Hester easily has the best overall characterisation arc I love love love the way soman writes her#I remember when I read 6 for the first time#before japeth insanity happened#I used to anticipate her chapters over like everyone else's. Hester the 1 lesbian in the series you are deeply loved#I could write whole essays about japeth and kei's characterisation it is so sad that soman forgets kei exists#like he's meant to be rhian's eagle. that's his job. that's what he's spent a Long Time anticipating becoming#but rhian refuses to acknowledge it. instead he calls Japeth his eagle in book 4's ending#He eventually falls in love with Sophie#he only ever cares about the crown#how he GETS to the crown#and bringing his mother back. he lies more than japeth#and never once does he get to be the eagle. There's only three spaces - lion/eagle/snake - and he doesn't get to be any of them#dont even get me started on how he dies. surrounded by white swans. being purely good#god rhian II try not to fuck EVERYTHING over challenge. and also Aric. its all arics fault as well#keiposting#japethposting#actually not really jposting. didn't do it that much#sge#tsfgae#school for good and evil#the school for good and evil#sfgae#the school of good and evil#as much as I adore Hester I dont think I will talk about her much in detail ever so no hesterposting yet
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Reading the Orchid Thief and lemme say. So fascinating to see someone like. Try to come up with a Reason Why humans like orchids. Two chapters here in a row pretty much treating Orchid hobbyists and plant hobbyists in general like one would an entirely alien culture- and don't get me wrong I understand why to an extent. Trying to make this book marketable outside just plant circles and what have you. But some of the way the camera is angled here is just. Fascinating.
Like, she explains how there are so many unique ways orchids evolved, as an attempt to contextualize for a reader why people might go crazy for them in specific, and describes individual species unique mating strategies, and the inability of them to self pollinate- but while I think that context is interesting it doesn't explain a damn thing. For one thing, having an extremely specific mating strategy is not solely an Orchid thing- a LOT of plants do it like that. Lots are flexible but I would say a vast swath are not and require specific things. For another- apples also don't self fertilize, but you don't have hundreds of thousands of apple varietal collectors.
She discusses their beauty as a reason they're collected- I won't deny that being a factor for sure, plants that humans like the shape of have a tendency to get collected and overcollected all the time- but like. A lot of people collect things that are traditionally ugly or even smell bad- and if it was exclusively a shallow pursuit, no one would work as hard as is required for an insane amount of orchids.
Part of the reasons orchids in particular are popular has to do with colonization. I can't articulate it all myself bc I haven't done research- but a genus that largely exists in tropical regions, that became popular in the late 1800s, that, in order to get in homes, white men would travel to all sorts of regions to take plants out of to get in the home? That is gonna help it get more popular than tomato or apple varieties for sure. I'm sure she's gonna touch on this eventually, given that the story she's covering actually involves the Seminole nation so I'm not holding it against her.
I suppose I'm just fascinated by her approach so far as to trying to understand why anyone would. Work to grow something? Really like something? I mean she pretty explicitly states that she "wants to want something" as much as these people want their plants- describes hobby communities and the idea of like. Working a hobby into your schedule or having friends related to the hobby as a "religion". She's baffled by like. Putting time and energy into a hobby and gaining joy and community from it and is trying to like. Break down orchids into their component parts to understand what makes someone. Want to grow a plant? And get community out of a hobby?
I'm going to be charitable and not make presumptions that she doesn't know like. The concept of loneliness and therefore a longing for community. Or that on some level she must know what common signs of autism are (ignoring her having spent several paragraphs describing several different people with classic signs and symptoms and then settling on "weird"). But it makes me want to turn the camera lens around for a moment. What makes someone presume that it's Orchid "obsession" (the word hobby is rather rare in the book acrually) that is particularly strange or more obsessed than other obsessions? What makes one abstract others hobbies and interests as needing a solve while the ones you surely have seen all over and even participated in aren't worth that examination? The line between "normal" and "abnomal" is entirely one made by dominant society
So this is why hobbies and kink aren't so different in the way they're perceived-
Orchids are an obsession to this author, to be highlighted and examined, or a hobby, to most people. They get a noteworthy category because they are seen as atypical. Sports-watching, however, is like. Never discussed as hobby. Watching football, watching soccer. It's just normal. No one says "that's my hobby." Even if a guy had a room full of memorabilia he would be noted as a "team fan" not a hobbyist. Sports has been declared normative, so it's not really considered a hobby by anyone. Plants? Non normative, therefore the same exact behaviors will get you considered unusual and a hobbyist.
Kink is the same way. People who are attracted to women being interested in breasts is so assumed to be normal and natural that no one calls it a kink. Breasts, the fatty deposits intended for feeding young, are expected to be hidden bc this kink (which everyone refuses to call a kink or a fetish or what have you) is seen as so universal. It's seen as immutable fact that there is a sexual nature to them. Feet however? If someone's into that that's a kink or a fetish if you're feeling kind, an obsession that makes you strange and worthy of examination and explanation if you're not.
I'm not arguing for doing away with calling things hobbies or kinks- I'm actually advocating for calling more normative things those words actually- I think it's just helpful to see where the framing of something, the way in which we choose to examine it, also has a lot to say about that which we leave unexamined, and unnamed. Because we don't categorize the normal.
#bookblr#just left me with thoughts tbh#the orchid thief#literally only like chapter 3 rn to be clear maybe a lot of this framing shifts. but like#she does go on discussing how she avoided keeping an orchid because she was afraid of it making her like everyone else she was speaking to#and like. thats when i was like. okay shes being exceedingly fucking weird in her approach to this.#and it makes her seem like. an evangelical xtian trying to avoid becoming corrupted. it made me start thinking too much#and then like. she also is like 'whats the deal w these orchids! why does everyone like them! ill go traipsing thru a swamp to find out!'#which is wild when like. maybe you could find out by growing them. the thing that all the hobbyists you find so strange are actually doing.#like only very few are going into swamps to find them bro#trying to explain why people like sports by going to the local park and watching children play basketball without understanding the rules#and then being like i dont get it!! like. yeah there are some noted differences here.#and also like the whole hike she hates it and doesnt want to hike and is unnerved by outside and walking. like girl! come on#she talks to a guy and is like why would you like orchids why would you waste your time waiting years for a bloom#and when hes essentially like. the time will pass anyway. shes like i still dont get it. but if i touch an orchid i might become insane so.#to be clear im enjoying this book. i think shes very funny. i also just think like okay. lets turn this lense back at u and ur weirdness#for more than 4 sentences girl. you read an article about a plant crime in fl. you. a woman who neither likes plants of any kind#nor lives in fl. and you flew down to learn everything you could. then you refused to actually grow a plant while trying to supposedly learn#everything about these plants to contextualize why someone would steal them#dude. girl. my friend. why did YOU do any of that?? you seem markedly stranger to me- someone who professes to care about nothing#but does all that. and then is terrified of. plant.#krogans thoughts
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lilyharvord · 1 year ago
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I started reading EragonxRed QueenxFrom Blood and Ashx--oh, shit sorry.... 4th Wing today, because everyone in my reading group said I had to, and... I'm 7% of the way through and I'm already so tired. Did no one edit this book? Did no one... read this book out loud?
Me currently finishing chapter 1 and going through the 5 stages of grief because I know this whole experience is going to RUIN my reading for 2024.
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Anyway, I'm writing a whole ass review that is pretty much line by line my thoughts XD If I make a google doc of it I'll let people read it. Might be more entertain than the book. 🤷🏼‍♀️ plus I'll only put like 0.1%-1/4 of it on Goodreads so think about what you might miss out on (me being upset and cranky and rutheless (((: ) Updating that doc might actually help me get through reading it faster.
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omarwolaeth · 9 months ago
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thinking 'bout how the lads interact with what the bracelets represent, especially in their decks
#marwospeaking#Yuuya is by far hardest to work with on this because he Varies. but that might just be him being opposite to Yuzu so it might count?#anyway Yuuya is a bushfire made by fireworks set off without proper precaution (the improperly set off fireworks being Zarc..#.. being influenced into the position that made the lads through his desire to both destroy and entertain his crowds)#It's small sometimes. but in the right conditions is an unstoppable conflagration#Yuuto literally does not die. In a world where we never truly get the other two (Yuugo and Yuuri) interacting with their host (Yuuya)..#.. outside of duels. he very much does. He is undead in a way the others don't quite match (pre Zarc revival) and it's opposite to..#.. En Bird's life (assuming it counts death too as part of its cycle)#Yuugo uses machine monsters - things that distinctly don't breathe. and in most cases have exhaust pipes billowing fumes#and machines can be warm to the touch at times. which you could feasibly slide against Rin's Windwitches for being Very Cold Ladies#Also he's trapped no matter where he is. Neo Domino has a stronger grip on him as a person than anyone else. and when he might finally..#.. escape that. he's trapped in someone else's body with no canonical recourse. because the story ended on Yuuya's terms and no one elses#Yuuri is hardest to place but I think he's very stationary. Sere's monsters are dancers - constantly moving - and she's very able to#adapt as she goes despite how stupid she can be book-wise. Yuuri is rooted into his role. even when he discards his loyalty his role was..#.. always in Zarc's interest no matter if he knew or not. The Professor's loyalty from him is an add-on to that#... I'd argue Zarc cared more about his pieces than Ray cared about hers also? He made cards for them on the fly so they'd Win#Even in moments where that victory is not in a wholly positive light - Odd-Eyes Raging and Gatlinghoul - but we know he's capable of it..#.. a la allowing Yuuya to debut pendulum monsters on his behalf in order to win against Ishijima#something something this can then apply to the other lads. they never lose except to each other and Ray's girls (at least on screen)#Yuuto survived 3 years of war. even despite Yuugo and Yuuri showing up. so methinks Zarc must've had a role in helping him survive#Like. Zarc's distinctly present for his Lads. Ray's not present for her lasses until one of them speaks through her#Sure it's very possible that's a bracelet thing - they are floodgates at the end of the day - and not a Ray thing. but it also wouldn't..#.. surprise me given Ray is an Akaba. we know they will sacrifice others for a gain later on - Ray's was sacrificing a whole world to make.#.. a safer one for everyone to live in. irrelevant on if they remember it or if they never existed originally. Except Leo Akaba. He does#(with memory reading tech) and it tortures him the whole time. she didn't mean to hurt him but Still#Zarc's distinctly not better than Ray - he's still broken wide open when it comes to his hatred of humanity (but not his human half)#and it resulted in multiple near-deaths the second time around - but I can't say Ray's that much better if it turns out the bracelets..#.. weren't floodgating her ability to help her lasses#Completely unrelated but. I don't like what Arcray represents ngl. makes it seem like Zarc could never move on with the help of his lads#and has to rely on someone who killed him and sent him to purgatory about it in order to heal.
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llycaons · 2 years ago
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actually I think that's exactly what happens. obviously there's a lot of complicated feelings there from jc but on the side of him that desperately misses his brother and feels abandoned by him, he does feel like he lost the competition and is deeply bitter and sad about it. so jc reads lwj's silences and looks as smugness and mockery because he's insecure and he projects his own feelings onto lwj, but lwj never thought about his relationship with wwx in terms of a competition with jc because...that's just not how he feels about their relationship? and he cares so much more about wwx and his happiness and safety than about owning jc or w/e
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gonzodangerfeels · 9 months ago
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Court mandated alcohol anonymous meetings are like some kind of trip while You're sober.
There are dudes who have been popping Vicodin for years thanking the drunks in the room for his sobriety. The cunning stupidity of some of these people is mind boggling.
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i2sunric · 6 months ago
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 (l.hs)
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PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)
SUMMARY: due to a storm, his parents are stuck in a motel for the night while you are stuck at his house. with wi-fi not working, heeseung can’t think of anything better than recreating the scenes of your smutty books.
WARNINGS: established relationship, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), fingering, standing sex (?), missionary, pussy eating, masturbation, dirty talking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), rough sex, chocking, i lied about the doggy style, pet names (angel, baby), lmk if more, NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 13th August 2024
WC: 3.7k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey (oneshot) @trizdoniki @love4hee @strayy-kidz @baribaaari @shirizula @astratlantis @jaeyungxrl @heestarry @heeseungismymanz @mitmit01 @rayofsunshineeee @heesexual74 @deezbin @jakeswifez @nikiswifiee @hqqj @diorfmu @isa942572 @yjwluvs @norihoyeon @starggukies @shiningnono @sunpov @iamliacamila @strawberrhypen @gnvi-eve @wildflowermooon @kaykay11sworld @erenswifesposts @star-hoon @aubaee @lvnglysunoo @heebear @enhypenlovre BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
a/n: honestly the intro sucks and so does the outro but i swear the smut is GOOD. literally 3k words of filthy porn ngl. enjoy lol. please LIKE & REBLOG to spread and let me knows your thoughts 💗
What was supposed to be a cozy Thursday night ended up in you being forced to stay at Heeseung’s house for the night.
Forced? Not really, you enjoyed the excuse of spending more time with your boyfriend. Because of a flooding caused by the storm outside, you weren’t able to go back home.
But neither were his parents, who were supposed to have a nice date and ended up being blocked by the horrible weather.
The sound of the raindrops tapping against the window filled the room as Heeseung turned off the shower.
You were laying on his bed with your back to the wall as you peacefully read your book, thankful that your sixth sense made you bring it.
Heeseung entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to dry his damp hair.
“Reading still?” He asked, nudging the book with toe. “Ew.” You stated, pushing his foot away “And yes.”
Heeseung just chuckled and moved to get his clothes from the drawer “Heard from your parents?”
He hummed “I called them before showering, they said they’ll stay at a motel,” He put his boxers on “But before they could say more, the line cut off.”
You threw a glance at the window “This storm is going to destroy a lot of things.”
Heeseung struggled to put on shorts and then rounded the bed, the mattress lowering where his weight was.
“I bet they’re having some wild sex right now.” You joked, flipping another page of your book.
Heeseung pinched your side “Ew? I don’t really want to think about my parents going at it.” He laughed, laying down beside you.
“Careful, you might have a brother soon.” You joked again, earning another gentle pinch.
A couple of minutes passed by and Heeseung groaned “Wi-fi doesn’t work.” He threw his phone at the end of the bed. “I can’t play games.”
“Poor you.” You cooed, caressing the hand he had placed on your hip, his chest pressed against your back.
“Can’t you put your book down and give me attention?” You could hear the pout in his voice “No boy, I’m at an important point.”
“Evil.” Heeseung murmured as he settled into a more comfortable position, strangely not going anywhere to do something else.
You felt his hand on your side, relaxed as well as his breath even. ‘He must’ve fallen asleep’, You thought, as you flipped another page of your book, unable to stop your eyes from reading the scene unfolding before you.
If Heeseung was to casually open his eyes and read even one line of the chapter, he would certainly make fun of you.
Who even reads smut in their boyfriend’s bed?
You felt his hand flex on your stomach but you didn't really mind, he would always move uncontrollably when asleep— sometimes, even kicking you.
As your mind proceeded the words written down on paper, your body reacted to it, almost unconsciously.
You could feel your core pulse in need, your body temperature raising and at the same time goosebumps appeared on your skin.
It always happened, you couldn’t help the way your imagination wandered with the characters of the book, the tension and the way they cared for each other. It was all too tempting, you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies.
But your boyfriend was sleeping and you didn’t want to disturb him, knowing he already had troubles falling asleep — the reason why he always stayed up late to play games —, so you kept quiet.
You felt Heeseung shift behind you, the hand on your stomach circling your waist until he was able to pull you against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.
You held your breath as he changed position, not making any sudden movement while he used you like you were a teddy bear.
Gulping down, you waited a few beats before focusing your attention back on the chapter.
It’s not like you and Heeseung had never gone further than third base, but it was always so… vanilla.
You longed for someone to use you for your own pleasure, to talk you through your multiple orgasms, to mark you up and manhandle you like a doll.
But you would never have the courage to confess that to Heeseung.
Yes, you two had been together for almost a year and half though you weren’t ready to open up to your contorted fantasies. Afraid that he may run away, you loved him too much for that.
So, you hid in your imagination, burying your nose in books that filled the void inside of you.
Letting out a quiet sigh, you tried to calm the fire igniting your bones, but your hips shifted uncomfortably, the ache between your legs too strong to be ignored.
Suddenly, Heeseung spoke to your ear, voice low and husky “You want to show me too?” You jolted and closed the book, catching your finger in middle, hissing at the pain.
You turned your face around and caught his gaze, something different inside it. Something primal.
“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You said, blinking faintly and Heeseung smirked, “I was reading with you.”
He reached the book from your hand and like a fool, you let him take it. He opened the page where you had left your finger in and cleared his throat “He looked at her with a strange urge, his attention gliding to her face,” He started reading.
“His voice was low when he said ‘Show me, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the middle of the night’.”
The heat that was once in your stomach moved to your cheeks, embarrassment coating your expression.
“It’s just a chapter, I was skipping it.” You tried to reach back for your book but he held it up, sitting “Ah, lying is bad, Y/N.”
Heeseung’s smirk was cocky “You seemed pretty into it.” You scoffed, “Give it back.”
Your boyfriend was clearly enjoying it, the way you blushed and the flustered look on your face. He licked his bottom lip and eyed you up and down.
Only when you lowered your gaze, unable to meet his, did you notice the hard-on he was sporting. Was he enjoying it the same way you were?
“There’s no wi-fi.” He stated, “And my parents aren’t home, don’t you think we should occupy our time?”
This side of him was something you had never seen, perhaps, had he the same hidden likings as yours? Looked like you were about to find out.
“How?” You asked, your voice hoarse, barely yours. Heeseung glanced back at the page and said “Take off your shorts.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, “W-What?” And he just chuckled darkly “Do you think I didn’t notice your body language, mh? Do you think I didn’t see how you were craving… this?” He raised the book.
“Now, take off your shorts or I’ll have to do it myself.” Normally, you would comply, but you were feeling bold, adrenaline shooting in your veins, so you said instead, “Make me.”
His eyes darkened, his brow raised. He placed the book on the bed and crawled towards you as you backed away until your back hit the headboard.
He kept eye contact while his fingers hooked around your shorts, and instead of his usual slow pace, he yanked them off.
You gasped at the sudden force, soon enough your shorts were laying on the floor “Isn’t this what you want?” He questioned.
“You want someone to dominate you, uh? To show you what’s your place?” Your whole body shivered from his words as you mindlessly nodded.
“All this time I’ve been gentle, afraid to make you uncomfortable,” He gripped your panties “But all you wanted was to be fucked, hard, isn’t it?” He ripped them off you, the sound of fabric stretching making you gasp again.
He smirked and threw the messy fabric on the floor, with your shorts “So, I’ll follow what you like.” He pointed at the book resting on the duvet “Play with yourself.”
You widened your eyes. Heeseung’s behaviour was different from his usual one, though you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Lord, you were drenched just from his words and he could see it, the way your juices coated your pussy, spread in front of him.
You gulped and slowly moved your hand down, reaching your clit which you started circling.
A soft hum escaped your lips at the sweet feeling and you watched him, his gaze so primal and full of lust as he took in the sight of you touching yourself.
Just a few beats passed before he asked “You know what she does now, right?” And you nodded, lifting your hand up to his lips. He hummed and took them inside his mouth, his warm tongue twirling around your digits.
The taste of you, even if it was just brief, was enough to make his head spin, so delicious and intoxicating.
You removed them “Let me watch while you fuck yourself.” He said and was suddenly aware of your position. Of how open you were in front of him, your folds clenching around nothing.
Heeseung raised an impatient brow and you hurried to coat your fingers in your juices, rubbing them against your entrance before thrusting one inside.
You moaned, your fingers brushing against your g-spot right away, given all the times you’d done this.
Heeseung licked his bottom lip, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth, on his tongue. He could feel his shorts grow tighter by the minute, his desire for you overtaking any rational thought.
“One more baby, I know you can take it.” He urged and you complied, adding a second digit to your ministration.
Heeseung let out a groan, his eyes locked on you as you brought pleasure to yourself. He quickly took the book back in his hands and flicked the page, a wicked smile on his lips.
“Yeah, bet you’ll like this.” He said as he pushed himself down the bed and took you by the back of your thighs, tilting your body until it was pending at the edge of the bed.
You stopped your movements and pulled your fingers out with a ‘POP’ sound, resting on your elbows to look down at him “Hee?”
“Don’t worry, angel.” He pried your legs open, his breath fanning on your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes “Just need to taste your sweet pussy.”
And then you felt it, the swipe of his tongue across your folds, your mind clouding from the pleasure as soft gasps escaped your lips.
Heeseung ate you like a starved man, alternating sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his strong grip prevented you from squirming around.
You rocked your hips against his mouth, needing to chase the pleasure building inside your lower belly.
You reached a hand and placed it on his head, your fingers tangling in his locks, “Mh, that’s it, angel.” He murmured, “Fuck my tongue.”
And so you followed his orders, moving with deep and slow thrusts, just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your jody as Heeseung stuck his warm tongue inside of you.
Soon, your movements grew sloppier and faster, your lips parted “I’m— I’m gonna—“ And before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you, making your back arch off the bed, your legs shaking.
“This was so hot, baby.” Heeseung pressed a few more kitten licks on your clit before raising himself, caressing your thighs with his thumbs.
You looked up at him, your breath still uneven from the great amount of pleasure he had put you in.
He gave you a small smirk before reaching behind you and taking your forgotten book back. He flipped the pages “Spoiler, she gives him a BJ.” He said.
You chuckled, your body now recovered as you sat up “And you don’t want it?” You batted your eyelashes.
Heeseung took a steady breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He quickly searched further one the book, scanning lines and as he found something he liked, he pointed at it, a small laugh escaping his lips.
“As much as I love feeling your mouth around me, I want to feel you whole.” He murmured.
You sat up, crawling towards him to the edge of the bed “Maybe I want to.”
His breath caught in his throat, your vicinity and your words going straight to his cock “The way she does.”
Heeseung went back to the chapter where it all started, scanning the lines until he read “After making her see stars, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze dangerous. ‘Your moans were so sweet, darling.’ He murmured, lowering his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung free.” He paused to gulp.
“He took the back of her head and moved her ‘till her neck bent in an awkward position, his red tip brushing against her lips.” He lowered the book.
“Is this how you want it? Rough?” Heeseung questioned and you nodded “Might as well follow the script.” You shrugged.
A low groan built in his throat, you tugged the hem of his shirt “This off?” Your eyes glistened with fake innocence.
Heeseung swiftly worked his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. It’s not like you had never seen him without a shirt on, you were used to him during beach dates or pool parties, but it was always so breathtaking.
Heeseung smirked, noticing the way your hungry stare was studying his chest. In the blink of an eye his shorts joined his shirt, his cock hard and angry, some pre-cum smeared over the tip.
“Be a good girl and open up for me,” He murmured as he climbed on the bed, his hand clutching the headboard to keep himself steady.
You quickly laid down, his hips hovering on your face. You looked up at him, doe-eyes looking ever so pure… And then you took him all in your mouth.
Heeseung threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, your head bobbing back and forth.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, his eyes meeting yours “So good, always so good.”
He caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing gently your skin as his hips bucked, meeting your pace.
He then pulled out, making you frown which was soon transformed when his lips met yours.
You could feel his cock twitching between your breasts, one of his hands squeezing it as his lips claimed yours.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, both of your tongues moving together, his spit down your throat.
He was delaying his orgasm, you noted, because he would’ve cum just from a few licks of yours.
And then he pulled his lips away from yours to thrust his throbbing length inside your mouth again “Mh… Yes— Shit. You’re so good, angel. Mouth made just for me.” He praised as he moved.
You hummed, sending waves of pleasure all through his body.
You gripped his thighs, bobbing your head faster, desperate to bring him the pleasure he deserved.
Heeseung understood and gripped the headboard with both of his hands, his hips thrusting inside of your warm and wet mouth. He hit the back of your throat, making you gag “I’m so close.” He breathed out.
At his words, you ignored the burning sensation building in your throat and hollowed your cheeks, with a few more thrusts he was emptying himself with a groan.
When he pulled out, you licked any drop of cum that spilled out your mouth and hummed happily.
Heeseung chuckled, leaning down again to capture your lips in a messy but loving kiss.
You playfully bit his bottom lip and he pulled away, yelping “Brat.”
You smiled at him and sat up, your voice just briefly hoarse “What happens next?”
Heeseung’s gaze darkened but his words were serious “You sure you want to continue?” He sighed softly, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”
You smiled reassuringly and beckoned to the book “Time to change chapter.”
Heeseung let out a quiet groan, his cock visibly twitching “He fucks her against the wall.” He narrated what he had read “Hard, hand around her throat… is that what you want?”
Just the idea of doing it that way had you drenched down there, a shiver ran along your spine “Yes, Hee.” You breathed out, and to emphasise you add “I need it.”
“My nasty girl.” He practically growled as he got up from the bed, taking you with him and slammed you against the wall of his bedroom.
You yelped when your back hit the cold surface, the tapping of the raindrops on the window your background music.
Heeseung claimed your lips again as one of his hands snuck to squeeze your backside, his fingers kneading it.
You could again feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, its warmth infecting your core.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” He whispered on you throat “To have you milk my cock as I take you so hard you can’t say a coherent word.”
You rocked your hips against his, a clear effect of his words, your arms wrapped around his neck.
As if you weighed nothing, he raised you and you wrapped your legs around his sculpted waist.
Without any warning except for the aligning of his cock, he slammed deep inside of you, making you moan out.
Heeseung wasn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen, but he surely was the longest. You could feel him so deep, he could probably even reach your stomach if he tried hard enough.
You gripped the back of his neck like your life depended on it as he moved without any mercy, pulling all the way out until the tip just to slam back in, knocking the air out of your lungs.
He snuck one hand between your breasts and reached your throat, wrapping it around it. He gripped, not enough to choke you but good enough to make you light-headed.
His cock pounded hard into you, driving your brain into nothing but a puddle of his name, the one you screamed and moaned.
Your nails dug into his shoulders and he grunted, rewarding you with a deeper thrust, one you can almost feel in your centre, where the familiar knot was tightening.
Your eyes rolled back, just moans and whimpers escaping your lips.
Heeseung removed the hand from your throat and gripped your neck instead, letting your lungs that were screaming in protest fill with air up to their capacity.
He moved so your forehead pressed against his, both of you panting in each other’s mouth, your pussy clenching around him.
He groaned, he put one of his hands on the wall to steady himself as his hips kept bucking fast on yours, the sound of skin slapping mixing up with the rain’s.
“Is this what you like, baby?” Heeseung asked, moving his face to gently nip on your neck.
Your whole body felt sensitive from the attention he was giving it, from his small hickeys to the way he kept hitting your sweet spot “Y-yes.” You croaked out “Feels s’good, fuck.”
Heeseung grinned and stilled, twitching inside of you with a groan.
Before you could even comprehend it, he had you with your back on the mattress, never pulling out of you.
Your legs spread open, eager to feel him in you, to let him claim him.
“Fuck,” He grunted out, his pace never once faltering as he gripped your thighs to help himself, surely there would be marks the next day “Feels like heaven inside of you.”
You answered with a muffled whimper, not sure if your brain could even form out a word anymore.
He leaned on you, chest pressed against chest as he hid his face in the crook of his neck, his hot breath hitting your skin.
You rolled your eyes back, the pleasure building inside of you almost unbearable “Hee..” You breathed out, gripping his forearm to warn him where words couldn’t reach.
“I know,” He murmured, “Me too, baby…”
You cried out as you tried to delay your orgasm the same way he could do, but the pleasure was too much and before you could even try to resist more, you saw white.
Your back arched off the bed and squirmed around, your walls clenching tight around Heeseung who, despite your state, never stopped thrusting.
“Shit— Where do you want it?” He asked, because it was in some ways a first timer. First time going rough, first time going raw.
You couldn’t find your voice, your eyes watery from the impact of your orgasm, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him.
He frowned “Are you— Fuck.” You felt his cum filling you up to the brim, the sensation so sweet a gasp left your lips as he rocked slowly, adrenaline lowering.
After a couple of minutes where neither of you had the energy to move, Heeseung raised himself and offered you a warm smile “How was it?” He questioned as he stood up.
The sight of you, sprawled on his bed with both your seeds running down your thighs was enough to make him pop another boner, which earned him a side eye from you.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Heeseung chuckled, opening one of the drawers to retrieve one of his shirts and helping you in it. He then carefully cleaned you up, dried the sweat running down your forehead and after putting back on his shorts and underwear, he laid beside you.
One of his arms snuck around your shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “You’ll have to go commando, since I ripped your panties.” You giggled, hugging him tighter.
“I really enjoyed… this.” Heeseung smirked, “I bet.” He glanced at the book, now resting on the bedside table “Come to me when you start another book, yeah?”
Heeseung absentmindedly squeezed your breast through the shirt “I’ll make sure to recreate it all… even may steal some of the lines.”
Content that he wasn’t going to judge you for your strange likings, rather supporting them, you let yourself be held as the storm outside slowly died, the breeze hitting your skin as you fell asleep, safe in his arms.
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alsofoundinpeas · 2 months ago
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No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)
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Summary: After JJ's insensitive remarks toward Spencer become too much to ignore, Y/N steps in to comfort him, igniting a friendship that rapidly grows into something more. Though Y/N falls for him first, Spencer soon finds himself falling even harder, realizing no one has ever cared for him the way she does—and he's ready to return it in full.
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Oral/Facesitting (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), masturbating (m!only), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex/PinV sex (wrap it before you tap it lovelies pls), c** swallowing (I don't know how else to put that HAHAHA), slight overstim (for both parties), slightly ooc!JJ (for the plot), one brief argument scene between the reader and JJ. Fluff and smut. Coworkers to friends to lovers.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader
A/N: I love a little "she fell first, he fell harder" trope, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I am once again pleading my case that I am NOT a JJ hater!! I just saw a clip of this scene from season 3 and was inspired because I too have been in Spencer's shoes and honestly it hurts, so I wanted to change up the outcome a little bit. The title comes from Taylor Swift's "So High School" but the fic isn't necessarily based around the song if that makes sense. As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)
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Y/N had never been particularly fond of JJ. They worked well together, of course—professionalism came first—but there was something about JJ that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt so high school to say, but Y/N had always seen her as a bit of a "mean girl."
Y/N had joined the BAU a year after Spencer, and she’d witnessed firsthand the awkwardness when Spencer, shy and eager, had asked JJ to go to a football game with him as a date after Gideon had given him tickets. A sweet, innocent gesture, only for JJ to show up with Penelope in tow, turning the evening into a humiliating disaster for Spencer. That was just one of the many moments Y/N had found herself bristling at JJ's treatment of him. Despite JJ’s consistent indifference and occasional cruelty, Spencer’s feelings for her had never wavered. 
Until today.
Spencer sat across from JJ on the jet, eager to share his excitement about the book he was reading and its similarities with Pinocchio, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he rambled on. He barely noticed the lack of interest in JJ's eyes, her eyebrows raised in a near-sarcastic expression as she muttered a disinterested "Wow" in the middle of his sentence. She tossed the case file onto the table without a second glance and stood. "Interesting. Coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, her smile a brittle, saccharine mask. 
Spencer froze, his words dying in his throat as she swiftly walked away. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest—an awkward mix of humiliation and disappointment. Was he that annoying? His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the book in his lap, the pages now feeling heavier than they had moments ago. He cleared his throat, but the discomfort lingered, thick in the air.
Y/N had been watching the whole exchange from her spot on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watched JJ throw her head back in a loud laugh at something Morgan had said about “escaping the robot” from across the jet. That was the breaking point. Y/N's stomach twisted with frustration. She was tired—so tired—of watching JJ repeatedly gut the sweet boy simply because he had a hopeless crush on her, one that JJ clearly saw as beneath her.  
Swinging her legs from where they were tucked underneath her, Y/N stood and made her way to the seat JJ had previously been occupying, sliding into it abruptly.
Spencer’s head jerked up as she quickly filled the seat, blinking hard as confusion washed over his features. “Oh! Uh, hey Y/N… was there something you needed?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping back to the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wounded look in his eyes.
“I was listening to your conversation earlier and wanted to ask if you would continue. Please.”
Spencer’s mouth parted in surprise, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. She… wanted to listen to him? He swallowed, his brows furrowing slightly as he hesitated before speaking. “You... you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better, you know.”
Y/N shook her head firmly, her hands coming together on the table as she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Spencer,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’m not asking you to continue because I feel sorry for you. I’m asking because I actually want to hear what you have to say.” Her tone was gentle yet sincere, and there was no mistaking the genuine interest in her words.
Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at her, his mind struggling to catch up with the moment before he finally opened his mouth, stumbling over the words to continue his excited rant from earlier. Spencer felt something shift inside him with every hum of acknowledgment, nod, and occasional question or light joke. It hit him all at once—this was how she always spoke to him: fully engaged, genuinely curious. She didn’t see him as the genius or the outcast. She saw him as... just Spencer. A person. Not a curiosity. Not a burden. Just him.
And for the rest of the flight, Y/N encouraged Spencer to spill every single thought that came to mind, entranced by the sweet boy in front of her for the entire time.
It was late when they finally landed, the team worn out and eager to get home. With quick goodbyes and Hotch’s promise of a day off tomorrow, the group trickled out of the office, one by one. When Spencer was left alone in the bullpen, he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat at his desk under the guise of needing to look for something before leaving. His thoughts kept drifting back to the interaction with Y/N on the jet. He couldn’t shake it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.
It wasn’t like they weren’t already friends—talking to her was nothing out of the ordinary. But something about their interaction today felt different. Maybe it was how quickly she’d stepped in when she saw he was hurt? Then again, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t all that unusual either. He’d often felt out of place—whether it was the team’s teasing that sometimes went too far, JJ’s backhanded compliments that left him more bewildered than flattered, or the officers who looked past him because of his age or appearance.
And every time, without fail, Y/N had been there. She was always the one picking up the pieces of his bruised confidence, offering him quiet support with nothing more than a kind word or a warm smile, never asking for anything in return.
“Spencer?” 
Spencer jumped, the unexpected voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He spun around in his seat, heart racing, to find Y/N standing there, her hands raised in a placating gesture. He’d thought she’d already left with the rest of the team, but apparently, he’d been wrong.  
“Whoa, take it easy—it's just me. Are you okay?” Y/N approached slowly, her expression softening with concern as Spencer took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.
“Uh, yeah! I-I’m fine,” Spencer stammered, wincing as his voice cracked. “I just… I thought everyone had already left.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said with a chuckle, flashing a sheepish grin. “I told Hotch I’d drop everything off in evidence before heading out, but I kind of took my time.” She shrugged, then glanced at him. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he thought about her question. What was he still doing here, other than overthinking a simple conversation on the jet? He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk. “I thought I left a certain book here, but... it turns out it’s actually at home.” The weak excuse was followed by a nervous laugh as Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, silently hoping she wouldn’t question him further. 
It seemed luck was on his side, as she nodded slowly—her disbelief clear, but deciding not to press. Instead, she offered a soft smile and tilted her head toward the elevator. “Well, if you're heading out now, would you like to walk with me to my car?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of hope. “I can give you a ride so you don’t have to take the metro so late.”
Spencer was momentarily surprised by the offer, but before he could overanalyze it, he found himself nodding. She’d offered him rides before, and he’d always turned her down, worried he’d be inconveniencing her or that she was just being polite. But tonight, after the grueling case, he felt too drained to talk himself out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t opposed to spending a little more time with her—just the two of them.
“Um… that would be really nice, actually. Thank you.” 
Y/N waved it off with a playful grin. “It’s really no big deal, Spencer. I honestly wish you'd take me up on it more often. I worry about you on those late trains, and I live just five minutes from you. It’d be nice to have some company on the way home.” 
They continued their light conversation the entire way to the parking garage, pausing only when they got to her car. Y/N fumbled with her keys, unlocking the doors quickly before they slid inside.
The first thing Spencer noticed was the sweet fragrance of her perfume, filling the small space around them. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he found himself trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, captivated by the scent and wanting more of it. The smell of her shampoo blended with the fragrance, intensifying as she turned her head to back out of her parking spot. Spencer hadn’t even realized the car had started until that moment.
The next thing he noticed was the sticker on her dash reading Amor Fati. A faint smile curled at his lips as he shifted his gaze to her. He watched her silently for a moment as she focused on the road.
“Lover of fate, huh?”
“Hm?” Y/N frowned in confusion, shooting him a quick sideways glance as she stopped at a red light. It took a moment before she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah. What about it, doc?” She chuckled, her voice light and teasing.
Spencer hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, nothing… But, did you know that Friedrich Nietzsche built most of his philosophy around that phrase?”
They plunged into a lively conversation, exchanging thoughts on various philosophers and their personal interpretations of the phrase. Spencer was captivated. The only other person who had ever indulged him in such “nerdy” discussions was Penelope (mostly about Doctor Who, of course). It was oddly refreshing, but at the same time, it only added fuel to the fire of his overthinking.
What was it that kept him so hopelessly fixated on JJ? She could be a good friend at times—he wouldn’t deny that—but there were moments when he felt like nothing more than a charity case. Like that kid who clings to someone at school, oblivious to the fact that they don’t actually want to talk to them. She was beautiful, of course—anyone could see that. But they didn’t share much in common, and their hobbies barely aligned. So why did he always end up seeking her out, when there were so many other people he could spend time with?
After the incident on the jet, Spencer had made a decision. He was done pouring so much energy into the blonde liaison and instead would focus on building a genuine friendship with Y/N. Not just the casual co-worker relationship they had, but something real. Maybe that’s why her sudden attention on the jet had caught him off guard. Maybe it wasn’t a crush forming, but rather a deep-rooted loneliness, a subconscious desire for a true friend. That had to be it.
The drive to his apartment seemed to fly by, and as Spencer stepped out of the car, he was surprised by the sense of reluctance that settled over him. He murmured his thanks and goodnight to Y/N, offering a shy smile, his thoughts lingering on the brief but unexpected moment of connection.
"Hey, Spencer?" Y/N called just as he was about to close the door. He paused, and she went on, her tone genuine. "I meant what I said. If you ever want to skip the metro and ride with me instead, I’d love the company. Honestly, I enjoyed our drive so much more than the usual Top 40 hits on the radio."
Spencer’s smile grew, a hesitant nod accompanying the soft bite of his lower lip. This was the opportunity to build something real with her, and for once, he decided not to second-guess it. “I’d really like that, actually.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, a blend of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her. A smile spread across her face as she let out a soft breath. "Great. I’m looking forward to it," she said, her voice warm. "Goodnight, Spencer. Enjoy your day off tomorrow."
The first week of Spencer’s newfound behavior had Y/N feeling… disoriented, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. She was genuinely thrilled by the extra attention, but she couldn’t quite figure out what had caused the sudden shift in their dynamic.
Spencer had begun riding home with her after work, both of them quickly growing fond of the newfound companionship. Throughout the day, he found himself gravitating toward her desk more often, offering to help with paperwork or providing a second opinion when she second guessed something. As they spent more time together, their conversations became easier—what had started as awkward exchanges soon evolved into Spencer initiating talks, no longer waiting for her to take the lead.
The irritated huff that escaped JJ’s lips as she stormed past everyone and into her office after Spencer politely declined her offer to sit with her and sort through case files, made it clear—Y/N wasn’t the only one noticing the change.
The next notable shift came when the BAU was called to California for a case. As everyone filed onto the jet and took their usual seats, there was one exception: Spencer Reid. When Y/N settled onto the couch, she was greeted by a soft, uncertain voice.
“Can I join you?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously tugging at the end of his cardigan sleeves as he blinked at her with those sweet, vulnerable brown eyes.
The entire team glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by Spencer's decision not to take his usual spot across from JJ. Y/N, both puzzled and pleased, quickly moved to make space, patting the seat beside her with an encouraging smile.
"Of course, Spence. Go right ahead."
Spencer let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders drooping in relief as he settled into the seat next to Y/N, the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying easing from his body. Ignoring the gawking from the others, he leaned in slightly, feeling more at ease in her presence. As Y/N opened the case file, he glanced at her with a small smile, ready to dive into the work with her by his side.
Morgan chuckled from across the jet, looking at JJ with raised brows as she scoffed to herself. "What'd you do to piss off the kid?"
“I didn’t do anything! And when did she start calling him ‘Spence’?” JJ grumbled, her arms crossed defensively as she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.
“Whoa,” Morgan muttered, his smile dropping into a frown. “Didn’t realize I was hitting a sore spot. What’s it matter what she calls him, anyway?”
JJ stiffened, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to respond. Morgan was right—she wasn’t the only one who could give Spencer a nickname. But that was her name for him, and it stung a little more now, given the distance that had been growing between them.
"It’s nothing," JJ replied quickly, forcing a casual shrug. "I was just surprised, that’s all." But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest, unsure why it bothered her so much.
The remainder of the flight was spent with the team discussing the case, Hotch assigning tasks for when they touched down. Once they had gone over everything they could, the conversation tapered off, and silence settled over the cabin. Each team member retreated into their own thoughts, but Y/N and Spencer remained deep in discussion, quietly exchanging ideas about the unsub.
As they leaned in to continue their conversation, they unknowingly inched closer, drawn together by the ease of their shared focus. And when Spencer felt Y/N's knee brush against his, he kept his leg still, savoring the contact in silence—his secret to keep.
It took Spencer just over two months to finally gather the courage to ask Y/N to hang out outside of work or their shared car rides—something he had started contributing to so he could get more comfortable with driving. She’d quickly climbed the ranks of people he favored and felt comfortable with, but the fear of rejection still held him back. He didn’t want to jeopardize the connection they’d built, especially when it felt so important to him.
Spencer’s fear dissolved when he asked Y/N to come over and watch a film he’d picked up at an antique shop. Her excited smile and enthusiastic "Duh, I'd love to!" made him realize that she’d likely been waiting for him to take the first step all along.
He was grateful for how Y/N allowed him to move at his own pace, understanding that his accelerated path through high school and college had made it difficult for him to form connections. She never rushed him, giving him the space to open up when he was ready and letting their relationship develop naturally.
Y/N arrived at Spencer’s apartment, her arms loaded with snacks and dressed in cozy clothes, her excitement palpable. She enjoyed their car rides, of course, but an hour together hardly seemed enough compared to the time she truly longed to spend with him.
Y/N had been captivated by Spencer for years, but the more time they spent together, the harder her heart beat for him—every smile, every laugh, every conversation only added to her growing feelings. She told herself she was content with just being friends, that having him in her life, even in the smallest way, was enough. But deep down, she knew the truth—her heart yearned for something more, something that seemed just out of reach.
"Y/N! Hi, welcome in!"
The door swung open to reveal Spencer, his grin wide with excitement as he motioned for her to step inside. The sight of him—beaming with an almost childlike enthusiasm—made her smile in return. His apartment matched her expectations in the best way possible: shelves overflowing with books and quirky knick-knacks, soft, ambient light spilling from lamps that cast a cozy glow across the room, and a desk strewn with an organized mess of case files and open journals. It was a perfect reflection of Spencer—intellectually chaotic, but with an undeniable charm and warmth.
Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room, and for a moment, he lost track of everything around him. He had always seen her dressed up for work—polished, professional, a perfect image of control. But now, in her casual clothes, with her hair down and no hint of the usual makeup, she looked entirely different.
She was still stunning, but it was a softer kind of beauty, one that crept up on him and left him breathless before he even realized it. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first glance, but once he took her in, he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away. Spencer had always thought he knew Y/N, but this version of her… this version felt like a secret he wasn’t ready to discover yet.
"Where would you like these?" Y/N asked, lifting her arms up with the snacks.
The sound of her voice broke Spencer from his daze, and he quickly moved to help, grabbing a few items to set them down on the coffee table. "Oh, uh, you didn’t have to bring snacks," he stammered, his hands fumbling with the food as he awkwardly rearranged it. "I was just going to order takeout or something. You’re the guest," he added, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. His mind was racing, still caught in the subtle sweetness of her perfume that lingered in the air as he leaned in to grab the bags, making it hard to focus.
Y/N shrugged, a small grin playing on her lips as she set the snacks down. "I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And if you’re still craving takeout later, I won't stop you from ordering it. Sound good?"
He nodded, his nose twitching as he grinned, feeling his tension ease. It was just Y/N, he reminded himself. There was no reason to feel this flustered.
An hour later, with the movie playing and a bag of gummy bears between them, Spencer quickly realized he'd been wrong. He had plenty of reasons to feel flustered.
The film, which had subtitles, was riddled with translation errors. Each time a jumbled sentence appeared, Y/N would lean in close, her breath warm against his ear causing shivers up and down his spine as she whispered, "What does that one mean?" Her thigh brushed against his, neither of them making any effort to break the contact. Spencer felt an almost electric warmth spread through him from the slight touch, his body aching for more. Was he really that starved for affection?
That night seemed to crack something deep inside him, like a dam giving way to a flood of longing for touch.
Spencer—who had always been wary of physical contact—now found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Every time they handed each other papers or worked on case files together, he’d make sure their fingers brushed. As he passed by her desk, he’d let his fingers trace along her shoulder blades, offering her a quiet smile that she always returned. After particularly exhausting days, he’d seek her out, leaning into her embrace, letting her arms offer him comfort and grounding. And during their hangouts, Spencer no longer hesitated to inch closer, letting his side press against hers, or allowing her to stretch her legs over his lap. The proximity felt natural, and he couldn’t help but crave it more.
It only got worse as time went on. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It wasn't just casual touches anymore—it was almost as if every opportunity to be near her was a chance to close the distance between them. Y/N couldn't get enough of it. And the team? They definitely noticed. JJ, in particular, seemed to pick up on it right away.
JJ had attempted to confront Spencer about his growing closeness with Y/N before, but each time, he waved her off, insisting that he and Y/N had simply discovered they had more in common than he'd realized and that he just wanted to be her friend. JJ wasn’t convinced—not for a second. It was obvious to her that Spencer was falling for Y/N, and for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it left a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t that she harbored romantic feelings for him, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed being the one to receive it.
The tension finally boiled over when the team was dispatched to a case in Oregon.
It had been six months since the incident on the jet, and Y/N and Spencer had become almost inseparable. Garcia and Morgan, delighted by their closeness, often teased them and playfully begged them to just admit they were dating—though both vehemently insisted that their relationship was purely platonic. Rossi and Emily often exchanged knowing looks on the jet, with Emily even going so far as to snap a picture of Y/N and Spencer sleeping on the couch after a case—a cute picture featuring Spencer’s head resting on Y/N’s and her face tucked into his shoulder as they peacefully dozed together. Even Hotch seemed to approve, having reviewed the Bureau’s internal fraternization policies just in case Strauss raised an issue. The only person who didn’t seem thrilled about it was JJ.
Two days in Oregon, and the team was already facing an uphill battle. They’d been working non-stop to build a profile for the unsub, but so far, nothing had gone right. There were no witnesses who could provide a description, a local officer had already compromised key evidence from the first crime scene, and the victims seemed to have no clear link to one another. Frustration was mounting for everyone, but for JJ it was mounting for an entirely separate reason.
Spencer had been managing his frustration through subtle touches with Y/N—brief brushes of his hand against her lower back as he passed, pressing his head into her shoulder with a frustrated groan after combing through their limited information for hours... But the moment that pushed JJ to her breaking point was when Spencer, noticing an officer staring at Y/N, pulled her possessively into him, his hand firmly gripping her waist until that officer left the room.
"Y/N?"
JJ's voice was tight as she stepped into the conference room the local officers had set up for the BAU to use during their case, spotting Y/N standing in front of the pinned-up map of the area as she studied the locations where the victims had been found. Spencer had just left, going to start more coffee for them since they were running low. The rest of the team was out in the field, reinvestigating the crime scenes for anything that may have been missed initially.
Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing as JJ closed the door. They weren’t close on a personal level, and Y/N couldn’t think of any reason, related to the case or otherwise, for JJ to want to speak with her alone.
"...Yes?"
JJ lingered near the end of the table, her arms crossed across her chest as she leveled Y/N with a look that immediately had her on edge. "I’m not trying to pry, but as his best friend, I have to ask… what’s going on between you and Spencer?" Her face was twisted in a scowl, her head tilting as she waited for a response.
Y/N's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline at that, a scoffed laugh leaving her lips before she could stop it. His best friend. Was she serious?
"Excuse me?"
"What's going on with you and Spencer?" JJ repeated, her voice deliberate. "Everyone’s noticed how he’s been acting—the constant touching, for one, is a bit much, don’t you think? He never wants to hang out with me anymore. It’s like he's all about you now. So, are you two seeing each other or what?"
Y/N turned to face JJ fully, her lips tightening into a thin line as she took a steadying breath. Her audacity was astounding, truly. The last thing she wanted today was to argue with this fucking—
"That's hilarious, Jennifer. Really," Y/N chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—Spencer is an adult who can make his own decisions? I’m not the reason he doesn't want to spend time with you."
JJ stiffened at the mention of her name, scoffing in response. "Oh, clearly you have something to do with it. Before you started driving him home, he followed me around like a lost puppy. Now he barely even wants to be around me!"
That struck a nerve in Y/N, like a live wire finally sparked to life. A lost puppy? Was that truly how little she thought of him? Y/N's head tilted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone as she spoke again.
"Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He's not your fucking pet, Jennifer!"
Her voice was menacing as she stepped forward, grim satisfaction coursing through her as JJ stumbled backward.
"Spencer is a brilliant, capable man who’s never deserved the way you or anyone else have made him feel less than that. We’re not dating. But if we were, I wouldn’t be ashamed of him. Unlike you, who found the idea of a man like him adoring you repulsive instead of seeing it for the gift it was. Spencer Reid is a fucking treasure, and it’s entirely your fault you never realized how lucky you were to have his attention."
Y/N's face was flushed red with anger, her chest heaving as she seethed.
"So again, I have nothing to do with him not wanting to spend time with you anymore. Maybe he finally realized that you're just not as great of a person as you pretend to be."
Rather than waiting for the teary-eyed, speechless blonde to reply, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, heading out to take an early lunch. But as she swung the door open, she was met with Spencer standing right there, and before she could react, she collided with his chest. His hands immediately flew to her waist, steadying her as she looked up sheepishly.
"Shit! I’m sorry, Spence," Y/N muttered, still fuming from her conversation with JJ. Her face turned even redder when she realized he might have heard some of it, but she didn’t regret a word of what she’d said.
He hadn't just heard some of it... He'd heard all of it. When he’d left earlier, he’d turned back, intending to ask if she wanted to take a break from the map. Instead, he had been met with the sight of JJ closing the door, and he curiously (shamefully) pressed up against it to know what was going on.
Admittedly, it stung to hear JJ talk about him like that, even though he already knew she'd taken advantage of his past crush on her. But Y/N's words and how she defended him hit him harder than expected. It became clear in that instant—no one had ever been there for him the way she always had been, and somewhere along the way, he'd fallen deeply in love with her.
"Hey, hey, it’s alright," Spencer said quietly, his hands smoothing over her waist before resting gently on her shoulders. "Go take your lunch. You’ve earned a break. I’ll keep working on the geographical profile until you return."
Y/N offered a weary but grateful smile before walking away, leaving Spencer alone to process the revelation weighing on him.
That night, Spencer paced his hotel room, caught between waiting until they were home to tell Y/N how he felt or just saying it now. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner, for convincing himself his feelings for her were purely platonic. But now that he knew, it consumed him. He wanted to shout it to the heavens, to tell the world he was in love with her.
Spencer knew what he had to do. He realized that confessing his feelings in the middle of a case wasn’t ideal, but the thought of waiting any longer to let her know how much she meant to him was unbearable. That’s why, before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself standing outside her door at midnight, knocking softly.
"Spence? You okay?"
Her sleepy voice tugged at his heart as she opened the door, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. She smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. The room was cloaked in darkness, but the moonlight spilling through the curtains illuminated the crumpled sheets, evidence of her restless sleep.
His heart hammered in his chest as he breathed in unsteadily, lowering himself onto the edge of her bed. She crawled back to the middle, flicking on the bedside lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow between them. His courage started to falter, but the gentle concern in her eyes anchored him. He remembered why he was here—because with her, he felt safe enough to face this, no matter how vulnerable he felt.
"Y/N, I—" Spencer began, his voice catching for a moment, but he continued anyway. "I heard what happened with JJ earlier, and it made me realize something I should’ve recognized a long time ago. I was so caught up in denial that it didn’t hit me until now. And I’m so sorry for that…"
Oh, fuck. He was starting to ramble. This isn't how he wanted this to go at all—
"Y/N... I'm in love with you. I am so, so in love with you that it aches. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the way you look, though I could spend hours talking about how stunning you are. It’s who you are, the goodness that radiates from you. You make me want to be better, to wake up every day and try to be at least half the person you are. You care for everyone around you like it’s your purpose, and I want to be the one who takes care of you for once because you truly deserve that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. But I just—I needed you to know."
Y/N’s jaw dropped as Spencer’s confession filled the air, her eyes welling with tears as the words she had longed for spilled from him. She moved swiftly, sitting up from the pillows and crawling toward him, a tear dripping down her cheek as she rested her hands on his shoulders.
"I love you too, Spencer Reid," she breathed, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you with everything I am."
Spencer’s lungs burned as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He returned her watery smile, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. Carefully, he cupped her face, his thumb following the line of her cheeks, his eyes filled with a quiet mix of wonder and adoration.
“Can I kiss you? Please?”
Her lips were on his the second he uttered the last syllable.
The kiss was both gentle and intense, their lips meeting with a deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment of crossing the line from friendship into something more. There was a hunger beneath the tenderness, an unspoken yearning finally being released. Their lips parted for only a second, allowing them to suck in a quick breath before they were back on each other. Each kiss was a quiet revelation, better than they had ever dreamed.
What started as an innocent declaration of their feelings for each other quickly evolved into something more ravenous as Spencer’s tongue prodded at the seam of her lips. The soft exhale Y/N released as their tongues brushed together had Spencer groaning, one of his hands sliding to cradle the back of her head as he savored the taste of her and the feeling of her lips against his. His other hand gingerly slid down her body, settling on her hip as he leaned forward, guiding her to rest against the pillows.
Y/N’s thighs parted eagerly to make room for him between them, her hands lacing through his hair as she tugged him impossibly closer. His elbows dug into the mattress beside her body as he hovered above her, swallowing the moan that slipped from her lips when their hips pressed together. He chased her lips when she tipped her head back, kissing her with an intensity that made her dizzy and had her whining into his mouth.
"I-I want— Spence, please—"
Y/N pleaded as his lips trailed down the side of her neck to suck a mark into her collarbone, though she wasn't even sure what she was begging for. She just knew she needed him. Her body felt like it was aflame, ignited by the spark that was Spencer's tongue soothing the possessive bruise now blooming across her skin. She needed him so desperately that her mind became a blur, consumed by an endless craving, unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming desire for more—more of him, more of this, more of everything he offered.
The thin fabric of their pajamas did little to conceal the feeling of his stiff cock grinding against her in subtle rocks of his hips as his hands began to roam her body, only adding to the overwhelming need she felt coursing through her. Spencer hushed her with a gentle peck, his lips lingering against hers for a brief, sweet moment before he moved to kiss her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. With each gentle kiss, she couldn't help but giggle softly, her laughter melting into the space between them.
"I know, pretty girl. You're already so worked up and all I've done is kiss you," he cooed, the words taking her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. A wet patch had started seeping through the cotton of her pants, something his fingers had taken an interest in as he began to lightly skim up and down her clit with his knuckles over the damp fabric. "No one ever takes care of you, do they, baby? Let me be the one to take care of you, Y/N. Please?" He paused, gently lifting her chin so he could meet her gaze.
Spencer’s words quieted the storm raging inside her, and she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a strong desire to let go, to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. To finally surrender and let someone take care of her. So she did exactly that.
"Yes. God, yes. Please, Spencer," Y/N whispered, her eyes searching his, full of need and trust.
It was as if a switch flipped the moment Spencer got the confirmation he needed.
His lips were back on hers in an instant, devouring her as though she'd melt away if he stopped touching her for even a second. He rolled them over, breaking the kiss to glide his hands underneath the rumpled t-shirt Y/N had on for bed and lifting it over her head in one swift motion. Ignoring her soft squeal of surprise, he brought his hands down to her hips, massaging the skin there before sliding his hands under the waistband of her pajama pants to grip her ass.
"Look at you… You're nothing short of incredible. Absolutely breathtaking," Spencer murmured, staring up at her in awe. The soft brown of his eyes had faded, overtaken by the dark void of his dilated pupils, as if a veil had been drawn across them. "I can't even begin to express how lucky I am to have you... how beautiful you are."
Y/N’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she placed her hands beside his head for support. She shivered as her nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt, hardened by the cool air of the hotel room and the desire she felt coursing through her. She answered with a hum and ducked her head shyly, mouthing at the sensitive skin underneath his jaw as she wriggled impatiently in his hold.
Spencer chuckled breathlessly, squeezing her ass again before retracting his hands. His fingers danced along the waistband of her pants teasingly before he began to tug them down, dragging her panties with them. His heart raced as she wiggled out of them, hammering against his chest with a rhythm that felt almost deafening. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d done to deserve someone like her, but he would spend a lifetime making sure she knew just how precious she was to him.
"It's your turn to strip," Y/N mumbled as she sat up, straddling his waist as her hands found their way under his shirt. "I feel so... exposed."
Spencer’s brows quirked in amusement, a quiet laugh slipping out before he could stop it as she shoved the shirt up and over his head. She slithered down his body, grinning up at him before placing a kiss on his hip bone. His pants soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the ground, followed shortly after by his boxers.
"There. Is that better, sweetheart?" Spencer teased, but the words went completely unheard as she gawked at him.
Y/N kneeled between his spread legs, her hands planted firmly on his thighs as she took in the sight of him. He lay before her like something straight out of her most vivid dreams, more stunning than she’d ever imagined. He was effortlessly handsome—his hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, and freckles and scars scattered across his shoulders and chest like a map of his past. His muscles were lean and toned, and the sparse hair trailing down beneath his belly button was far more enticing than it should've been. His cock was as pretty as he was, the flushed head of his more than impressive arousal matching the pink of his cheeks.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away.
"C'mere. I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Spencer grinned, motioning for Y/N to crawl back over him.
Instead of letting her settle with her thighs around his hips like she had previously been, he tugged insistently, her brows furrowing in confusion as she wobbled above him.
"Spencer, what—"
"Get up here," Spencer crooned, finally managing to maneuver her forward so her pussy hovered over his mouth. "And sit down."
Y/N's jaw dropped, her hands flying out to catch herself as she gripped the headboard. She was taken aback, utterly speechless. Here she was, being manhandled by Spencer Reid. The same quiet, awkward genius who rambled endlessly about statistics and couldn’t sit still for more than a minute was man-handling her and demanding she sit on his face. Was she dreaming?
"Are you— are you sure?" Y/N squeaked, staring down at him with wide eyes. "You really don't have to—"
Spencer turned his head so he could pepper open-mouthed kisses up and down her inner thigh, coaxing a soft moan from her as his warm breath fanned across her soaked folds.
"Stop all that worrying, pretty girl. I told you I'd take care of you—let me keep my word."
Before she could protest, Spencer gripped her hips, pulling her down at the same time he tilted his head up to lap his tongue over her core. Any hesitation Y/N had left evaporated from her body as a guttural moan ripped its way from her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Spencer dragged his tongue over her clit. His movements were languid but hungry as he reveled in the taste of her, relishing her essence as though it was the very thing he needed to fuel his existence.
The air was filled with a mixture of moans and the slick sound of Spencer's mouth working between her legs, only amplifying the intense pleasure swimming through her body. Once Spencer was sure Y/N would stay put, he let one of his hands fall away from her hips, tracing it down his body until it wrapped around his cock. The breathy sounds she was letting out had him painfully hard, his thumb spreading the bead of precum spilling from the tip down the length of him as he began to pump himself.
"Oh, fuck—" Y/N whined as she forced her eyes open, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of Spencer touching himself. The sight had her thighs trembling, a low groan rumbling in her throat as she turned her gaze down to look at him underneath her.
His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows pinched together in pleasure as his hand began to move faster. It was downright sinful. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.
Spencer alternated between fucking his tongue into her and sucking gently at her clit, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm at a speed she never thought was possible. Y/N's hips rocked against his face, frantic whimpers slipping from her lips as her face began to scrunch in pleasure. The needy moans he was letting out against her skin pushed her over the edge as a sharp gasp broke free into the air, followed by a loud cry as her hands dropped from the headboard to tangle into his hair while she came.
Spencer whimpered as he let go of himself, instead using his hands to anchor her down while he gently worked her through her climax. He pressed a small kiss to her clit before she squirmed away, falling onto the bed beside him as her chest heaved. A look of adoration lingered on his face as he stroked her side and hair, pressing his lips to her forehead while she caught her breath.
Y/N flashed a small grin, rolling her eyes at his proud expression. A comforting heaviness settled in her limbs, pulling her deeper into the bed as she released a soft sigh. It took her a few moments to push herself up on her elbow, shifting to face him instead of lying flat on her back.
"How am I ever supposed to get anything done again now that I know you can do that?" Y/N murmured with a hint of exasperation, tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against his.
Spencer’s breath hitched as she draped her leg across his waist, hissing quietly as the head of his cock brushed against her warmth. He hummed, feigning thought before shrugging with a playful grin. "Could be a reward for a job well done," he teased, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips as his hand rubbed up and down her thigh.
"Yeah?" Y/N's hips began to slowly rock back and forth, the friction from his cock pressing between her folds making her head spin. "Well, can I reward you for a job well done then?"
Spencer's fingers flexed against her thigh, a low noise escaping him as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.
It made sense to him now why sailors would plummet into icy waters at the sound of a siren's call. If that call was anything as alluring as the sound of her voice, he'd happily do the same. She could demand the most heinous things of him right now and he'd do them simply because she asked.
But tonight was about her.
So instead of caving and begging for her touch, he shook his head, his lips quirking up at the pout forming on her lips. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetheart. Not the other way around."
"Okay... so then take care of me by fucking me. Please?"
Spencer's resolve broke at her words. How could he possibly deny her? He'd be an absolute fool not to give her whatever her heart wished for.
His lips met hers in a fervent kiss as he moved to hover over her once more. Two of his fingers found her soaked pussy and sank inside of her with little resistance, a smug grin finding its way to his face as she gasped loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw before he whispered into her ear.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
Y/N bucked her hips up into his touch, writhing underneath him as she nodded frantically. There wasn't a thing in this world that she wanted more. "Yes, Spence, please. Please fuck me. I need it—"
Spencer groaned, latching his lips onto the side of her neck as he inhaled sharply through his nose before he sat back on his heels. His fingers slipped out of her, her eyes widening as he brought the digits to his mouth and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.
"Flip over."
Y/N followed his command without hesitation, the rush of anticipation making her feel almost detached, as though she were on autopilot, waiting to see what he would do next. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he reached for a pillow, tucking it underneath her hips to prop her up. A low whine emitted from her chest as she felt the flushed head of his arousal bump against her entrance, her hips canting back in an attempt to get him to push forward as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her back as he planted his hands into the mattress beside her.
"Do you want it like this, sweetheart? No condom? Because I can go find one..." Spencer murmured into her ear, his breathing labored as he teased her opening.
"Please— Wanna feel you, Spence," She whined into the pillow, arching her hips into his touch, though he remained just out of reach.
Spencer's eyes squeezed shut as a pang of arousal shot through him, taking a shuddering breath to mentally prepare himself not to blow his load before he even fucked her. With a kiss to the back of her head, Spencer began to press forward, easing into her inch by inch.
Y/N's mouth gaped open against the pillow she'd tugged underneath her head in a silent moan, the sensation of him finally filling her more intense than she'd expected. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he bottomed out, a pitiful whimper slipping free as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to adjust to the feeling. Her walls clenched around him instinctively as she adjusted, causing a broken moan to fall from his lips as his head rested against her shoulder, his breath puffing across her skin in warm bursts.
His right arm kept him braced above her while his left arm made its way under her chest, pulling her close as his hand began to grope at her breasts. His fingertips pinched one of her nipples, reveling in the soft moan she let out. "Are you ready for me to move, pretty girl?" He breathed, peppering kisses along the side of her face as he waited for her to relax.
At her nod, Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow but powerful as he repeatedly drove into her. He shifted up onto his knees, pulling her hips back into his languid thrusts as she moaned beneath him. The angle allowed him to brush her G-spot with every stroke, causing her toes to curl with each pang of pleasure that wracked her body. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, a low whine bubbling in his throat as he took in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her.
It was downright erotic, the sight of her arousal coating the wiry curls at the base of him driving him insane. She was so fucking wet for him. The knowledge that he was making her feel this good made his head spin. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He needed to show her how deeply this was affecting him, to make her understand the intensity of the way she made him feel.
Everyone knew Spencer liked to run his mouth. It wasn't a surprise that this remained true during sex. What surprised Y/N, however, was how absolutely filthy of a mouth the man had. Spencer, the same Spencer who had barely uttered a curse in all the years she'd known him, was now stringing together words that would make even the most foul-mouthed person blush.
His pace increased with each word he murmured, small "ah, ah, ah's" spilling from her lips as he began to really pound into her.
"Does that feel good? Huh? Finally being taken care of the way you deserve?"
"Fuck— look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. Do you like that? You like feeling me stretch you open?"
"Such a perfect pussy, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. So tight. My beautiful girl."
Every vulgar word he breathed into the space between them had her mind reeling, her body teetering on the edge of release as her walls fluttered around him. Desperate moans began to spill from her as she took everything he had to offer, her teeth digging into her lower lip to try to stifle the noises in an attempt not to wake everyone on that floor of the hotel. Spencer's gaze was locked on the way her ass rippled with each thrust, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as his brows pinched together and his mouth hung open.
"S-Spence— I'm so close—" Y/N whimpered, burying her face into the pillow beneath her as she moaned helplessly.
He dragged one of his hands away from where it was squeezing her hip, shoving it between her hips and the pillow propping her up as he began to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go, sweet girl. Cum around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."
She cried out at that, thrashing underneath him as the tension coiling in her lower belly finally snapped. Spencer's hips stuttered, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat as she squeezed around him, her legs trembling as one of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever experienced washed over her in waves.
"God— fuck, I'm about to cum," Spencer grunted, his eyes squeezing shut briefly as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked her through it. "Where do you want it, pretty girl?"
"Wanna taste you... Spence, please—" Y/N slurred beneath him, weakly pushing up on her elbows to turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her bottom lip was swollen and lightly bruised from how hard she'd been biting at it, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.
The sight of her looking so ruined almost had him spilling inside of her, and with a muffled curse he pulled out of her, fisting his cock as she rolled onto her back and stuck her tongue out patiently. He shuffled up her body, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard as he gazed down at her reverently. The amusement he felt from the brief feeling of deja vu from having her in a similar position earlier that night was short-lived as his head tipped back, a strained whimper filling the air as her tongue brushed against the head of his cock.
It only took a few pumps for him to cum, his eyes rolling back into his head when she sat up to take him further into her mouth as rope after rope of his essence flooded her throat. Y/N sucked gently, working him through his orgasm until his hips were jerking and he was whining, pulling off of his softening cock with a slick 'pop'. He crumpled onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath.
Spencer wrapped her tightly in his arms, his lips brushing against the top of her head with soft, repeated kisses. Between each tender touch, he murmured how incredible she made him feel, how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to share this life with her, let alone love her the way he did. Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but full of conviction, telling him how deeply she cherished him and how every part of her was filled with love for him.
Her fingers idly traced patterns across the flushed skin of his chest until he caught her hand, pressing tender kisses to her knuckles before quietly slipping out of bed. She groaned petulantly as he pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the bathroom with a pat to her butt and a mumbled but passionate lecture on the timeframe after sex in which she needed to pee to avoid getting a UTI. Even though she knew he was right, she still rolled her eyes as she trudged into the bathroom. She decided to brush her teeth while she was there as well, giggling to herself at the thought of kissing Spencer with the taste of him still in her mouth.
When she stepped out, Spencer had changed the sheets and set a bottle of water on the nightstand, flashing a drowsy grin as she slipped into bed next to him and turned the lamp out. "What's all this about?" she teased, her smile breaking into a yawn.
"I'm taking care of you, just like I said I would."
It didn’t take long for exhaustion to settle in, both of them murmuring good nights between soft kisses. As they drifted off together, Y/N felt certain he would be taking care of her for the rest of his life—and she was just as sure that she would do the same for him.
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Continued A/N's: Happy (late) start to December!! I really hope you guys enjoy this :') I plan on doing a little something (maybe, possibly ;) ) for Christmas, so stay tuned for updates on what that little something may be. Also, a loving reminder that my requests are open! :) <3 K
REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.
1K notes · View notes
emmyrosee · 3 months ago
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“Hey.”
“Hi?”
This is the first time in four weeks you’ve answered his phone call. He never thought he’d be the one to break no contact first.
Sukuna tried, god he’s tried so hard to keep no contact, but there’s something about your saccharine voice that lures him back like a siren. He can’t get enough of it, and the lack of it in his life drove him crazy.
What you don’t know, is how often he clicks on your contact, how many times a day he dials your number, how much his fingers long to text you.
Even if after four weeks, he’s gone without it.
It’s hitting the call button that he hasn’t done. Until tonight, of course.
His mind scrambles to find an excuse for calling you, jaw opening and closing like a fish, and eyes darting around, even if you don’t see it. His gaze falls onto his sleeping dog, and he sinks his teeth into his lip.
“I just wanted to let you know, I finally got Titan to do that trick. You know-“
“Wow. Thanks for letting me know,” you say sarcastically. “Are we done here?”
“Yeah,” he says, gnawing at the tip of his thumb. “Yeah. Sorry to bug you. I just… thought you’d like to know.”
But neither of you make a move to hang up. He was positive you would immediately, sick of his voice and his attitude, but you don’t. Maybe you needed this as much as he does.
“No,” he finally croaks. “No okay? I’m not done. I fucking miss you.”
“Sukuna, stop-“
“No, you stop,” he snaps, voice tight with emotion. “Because if this is the last time we talk, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen good.”
You go silent. He hears you breathing, and you don’t make any noise to indicate you’re going to hang up. He lets you sit there, pondering, he wants to leave the ball in your court, even if ending the call is his worst nightmare right now.
“Speak.”
He shudders at the coldness in your voice, he rolls his shoulders and slumps back.
“You… are all that I think about,” he says firmly. “You and I, we are golden. I can’t imagine my life with someone else, I fucking hate to, there’s no one for me but you, and the fucking fact that I have to wake up to a cold bed because of something I did, is something I hate.
“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, I miss your voice and your laugh and your eyes. I miss your cold hands sneaking under my shirt, and I miss the way you fit against me when we cuddled. I miss you so fucking much, I hate this, I hate it so fucking much, and if I could fix it I would, I want to, please let me fix it-“
“You can’t.”
You shut him up.
“There is no fixing it, sukuna. You broke that trust, shattered it. You think I don’t miss you? You’re crazy.”
He calls your bluff, “you’re full of it. You want to get back together so bad it makes you sick. I know it does, I know you.”
“And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?” You scoff.
“Because you picked up the phone.”
You’re silent at that. He sinks his teeth into his lip, “you’d never answer the phone on someone you want out of your life. You’ve ignored people for less, you don’t fool me for one second.”
You’re still silent. He hears you breathing, as if waiting for him to keep going, read you like a book and prove you wrong.
He rests his head on the wall and shakily calls out your name, letting the vowels feel foreign on his tongue from lack of use. Pet names became so popular, his mouth almost forgot how to say your name. “I can fix this, if you’ll let me. I fucked up. But I know I can fix this.”
“You can’t fix shit,” you scoff. “You would’ve never let it get so bad in the first place if you cared.”
“I couldn’t fix what had already been destroyed,” he snaps. “But we know where we went wrong. We knew what went right. We can do this, do not send me away.”
There’s hesitation on your end. He feels it, he feels your reserve crumbling as he speaks.
“Please… don’t send me away,” he whispers.
You sigh. He sucks in a breath in preparation.
“I miss Titan,” you confess. “If we’re going to talk, we’re doing it at your place, so I can see your dog.”
He smirks.
“And I make no promises,” you hiss. “You don’t get the satisfaction of thinking we’re automatically getting back together because I don’t want to do this over the phone. We’re not. Not yet. Not now. But this isn’t a conversation to not do face to face.”
He closes his eyes and lets his body relax.
“It’s a date.”
“Don’t call it a date.”
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kbwrites · 5 months ago
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Breaking up is hard to do!
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synopsis: breaking up with the jjk men.
⚝characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami
⚝content: heavy angst, gaslighting(Gojo's), depression (Suguru's), mutual breakup(Nanami's)
⚝wc: 3.5k
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Satoru Gojo
“Yeah so then Yuji popped out of the crate and surprised them all! You should’ve seen it baby!” Satoru wheezes holding his stomach as he recalls the event from the day.
No matter how hard you try though, you can only muster a small smile.
It had become really hard to do much else recently. With the weight of the hundreds of tasks at work taking its toll. Satoru looks over at you, waiting for a laugh—but it doesn’t come.
“Hellooo? Everything alright princess?” He questions giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“Mhmm!” You nod.
He looks at you for another moment, unreadable expression on his face. Satoru shifts, clearly expecting more from you. “You sure? You’ve been quiet tonight. That’s not like you,” he says, his voice still light, but there’s a hint of curiosity now.
You try to hold back the frustration, but it bubbles up anyway. “I’m just tired, Satoru.”
“Tired? Seriously?” he mutters, pulling his hand away. “You work, what, a nine-to-five? You act like you’re running yourself into the ground.”
You blink, taken aback by his dismissive tone. “Satoru, it’s not just about the hours. It’s everything piling up, and—”
“Piling up?” He cuts you off with a scoff, already reaching for his phone. “Why didn’t you just say something sooner? You know I could’ve hired someone to handle that for you. I’ve got the money. You shouldn’t be stressing over... whatever this is.”
The words sting. You knew his mind would go there. It always does—like money could just make the exhaustion disappear, like hiring someone to take care of the smaller details would magically solve everything.
“It’s not about the money, Satoru.” you snap, trying to hold onto your patience. “I don’t need someone else doing my job for me. I just... I need you to listen.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Listen? What do you expect me to say? You’re tired. I get it. But don’t act like you’re drowning when I could have fixed this a long time ago. Hell, I could’ve bought you time off or flown you somewhere. You're sittin' here sulking like I can’t take care of things.”
You clench your fists, the exhaustion now compounded by frustration. “It’s not about you fixing things, Satoru. Sometimes I just need support—not your money.”
He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Right. So you want to feel miserable instead of letting me help. That’s real smart, princess.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you shove clothes into your bag, the sound of zippers and drawers slamming echoing through the room. You can feel Satoru’s presence behind you, hovering, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not after that.
“C'mon, princess.” he says, his voice exasperated, like he’s the one who's supposed to be annoyed. “What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?”
You don’t answer, your hands moving faster, yanking more clothes off hangers, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. You’re so angry you can barely breathe.
“I’ll book us a trip,” Satoru tries again, a hint of desperation creeping into his usually arrogant tone. “How about Paris? We’ll stay at that five-star hotel you like, the one with the private balcony. You love that place.”
Your jaw clenches. “This isn’t about a vacation, Satoru,” you snap, stuffing the last of your things into the bag. “It’s not about your money or your fancy hotels.”
“Then what is it about?” he shoots back, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re acting like I haven’t given you everything. "What more do you want?"
You freeze, bag halfway zipped, your body trembling as you turn to face him. His icy blue eyes are wide, confused, and maybe even a little hurt, but you’re beyond caring. “I want you to see me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you, louder than you intended. “I don’t need you to throw money at the problem! I need you to actually understand what I’m going through!”
Satoru stares at you, speechless for once. His mouth opens, but no words come out. He looks almost... shocked, like he can’t comprehend that his money, his status, can’t fix this. That he can’t fix this.
“Do you even care?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but no less angry. “Do you care about how I feel? Or is it just easier for you to throw cash at me until I stop complaining?”
He’s silent, his gaze hardening as he crosses his arms. “I’m trying to help. What else do you want me to do?”
“I want you to listen!” You throw your hands up in frustration, feeling more alone than ever. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want trips or fancy dinners. I want you to care about me, Satoru. Not just the idea of me.”
His lips press into a thin line, but he says nothing. The silence is louder than any of his words.
As your hand grips the doorknob, ready to leave, Satoru’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and bitter.
“Right, run off to Shoko’s.” he scoffs, his arms crossed defensively. “You always do this, don’t you? The moment things get tough, you bolt. Guess it’s easier to complain to her than actually deal with me.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, stopping you in your tracks. You turn slowly to face him, disbelief clouding your vision. He’s standing there, arms folded, arrogance in his posture.
“I always do this?” you repeat, your voice trembling with anger. “I’ve stayed through everything, Satoru!"
“You’re just like Suguru.” Satoru spits out, the words dripping with bitterness and desperation.
Your hand freezes on the handle. You weren’t expecting that. Slowly, you turn to look at him, and the mask of arrogance has cracked. His eyes are wild, wide with something close to panic. “Running away the moment things get hard,” he continues, his voice shaking slightly. “Is that it? Just gonna leave like he did?”
Your heart skips a beat, anger fading for a moment as something else stirs inside you. You’ve seen Satoru angry before, frustrated, even cold—but this? This is different.
“That’s not fair.” you say quietly, though the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “I’m not leaving because things are hard. I’m leaving because you’re not listening.”
Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a hard line. Then he snaps, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade, sharp and cold. “Well, fine. Go. I survived him abandoning me, I’ll survive you too.”
His words sting, burning through the air with a finality that makes your breath hitch. It’s a challenge, a defense—his way of masking the fear that’s clawing at him from the inside out. He’s pushing you away before you can leave, just like he’s done with everything else that’s threatened to crack his carefully controlled world.
You stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him as his walls rise higher, shutting you out. This is what it’s come to. He’s too scared to let you in, too scared to admit that you leaving isn’t something he can just survive—that it’s something that terrifies him.
But he won’t say it. He won’t ask you to stay.
And that’s when you know.
Suguru Geto
You rest under the comfort of your blanket. How many days have you been in this bed? Three days? Four? 
The world was just too much right now, and your room was the only security available. It had been a week since Suguru vanished without a word, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken trust. Principal Yaga’s words still echoed in your mind—a whole village slaughtered, his parents among the dead. 
And not even a text.
You weren’t sure if he was even alive, maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. At least then you wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that the love of your life was now a wanted killer.
You took another tissue from the box, blowing into it and tossing the crumpled mess into the garbage can.
Satoru hadn’t responded either, was he okay? Did he know?
Your mind screamed for silence, for the thoughts to stop, but they kept coming, relentless.
“Angel?”
That voice… no it couldn’t be. You lower the covers from your face.
It was
“Hi baby...” his normally soothing voice does little to alleviate the ache in your chest.
“You…” your voice barely a whisper, threatening to break. “I thought you were dead.”
He moves closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, and you finally take him in. Despite everything, despite the horrors you’ve been told, he looks… normal.
How could he look so much like the Suguru you knew, the Suguru you loved, when everything inside of you was shattered?
Was this the same man who held you close? Whispered sweet nothings in your ear—promised to protect you with his life? 
“It’s me, (Y/N).”  he says softly, his voice cutting through the silence as if he had read your thoughts.
The tenderness in his tone feels like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he say that—so casually, so easily? Like everything was normal, like your world hadn’t come crashing down around you. You blink, trying to force the tears back, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes.
“Are you?” your voice is small, barely more than a whisper. Doubt lingers in every syllable.
He doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, his gaze softens, and without a word, he pulls the covers off of you. The cold air rushes over your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you had buried yourself in, and for a moment you flinch, instinctively clutching the blanket before you let it slip from your fingers.
His eyes trace over your fragile form, and there’s something in them—a flicker of sympathy, regret, even—but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the reason for your downward spiral. He knows it too. The weight of it presses on him, though he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he moves with a gentleness you hadn’t expected, sliding his arms under you and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing.
You want to protest, want to ask what he thinks he’s doing, but you’re too tired, too drained to fight. So you let him carry you. His arms are steady, and despite everything, you can’t help but melt in his embrace.
He takes you into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the space as he sets you down gently. You can feel the cool tile under your feet as he kneels in front of the tub, turning the faucet on and testing the temperature.
You had so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, ask him why. But you couldn’t.
He dips his hand under the stream, adjusting the temperature until it’s just right. His movements are deliberate, methodical, as if this is the only way he knows how to show you any kind of care right now.
You stand there, numb and silent, watching him. The man who destroyed your world, now kneeling before you, acting as though he can piece it back together with something as simple as a bath. It feels absurd, almost cruel, but at the same time, you don’t have the strength to stop him.
Suguru rises to his feet, his presence towering yet calm as he began to undress you. Gentle hands pulling his t-shirt off of you, the one you had been clinging onto for days.
His hands brush lightly against your skin as he lifts the shirt over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.
He had seen you in this state before, many times. But this….this was different.
Suguru guides you to the shower, washing your body with a gentleness you missed so deeply.
You close your eyes, letting him take care of you, even though you don’t understand why or how he can. The silence between you grows heavier with every passing second, filled with words unspoken and emotions too tangled to sort out.
Finally, you speak, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “Why are you here, Suguru?”
His hand pauses for a moment, the washcloth resting against your skin. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but when he answers, his voice is low, steady, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.
“Because I….I love you” His voice almost too quiet, as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud.
“Then why, Suguru?” your voice trembles, almost breaking under the weight of your next words. “Is it true? You killed those people?”
The washcloth falls from his hand, splashing into the water as the silence between you deepens. He doesn’t speak right away, and the hesitation in his silence is an answer in itself.
You swallow hard, the air thick with the weight of the truth you already know but can’t bear to accept.
“They were… in the way,” he finally admits, his voice low, almost hollow.
You step out of the shower, the warm water sliding off your skin in slow rivulets. Without thinking, you reach for the towel, wrapping it tightly around yourself like armor.
This isn’t the man you loved, the one who spoke of protecting the weak, of valuing life. Yet, there’s something so heartbreakingly familiar in the way he says it—like a twisted version of the Suguru you knew, now wrapped in darkness.
“But those were people, Suguru,” you say, your voice fragile, as if you’re trying to reach the man you once knew beneath the monster he’s become. “Innocent people. How could you…?”
He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you, his hand brushing against your skin, cold and distant. “Because this world is broken.” he murmurs. “And I need to fix it. I had to do it. Can’t you see that? We—sorcerers—we’re meant for something greater. And they… they were holding us back.”
You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I don’t understand, Suguru. I don’t understand any of this.”
He steps closer, his hand cupping your face gently, as though trying to reassure you with his touch. "Come with me." he whispers, his voice softer now, pleading. “Run away with me. Together, we can build something new. You don’t have to be a part of this broken world anymore. We can leave it all behind.”
Before you can respond, his lips press against yours, a kiss that’s both gentle and urgent, as though he’s trying to pour every unsaid word, every plea, into this one moment. It’s the Suguru you remember—the Suguru who once made you feel safe, loved.
But the reality of who he’s become crashes down on you.
You pull away, your hands pressed firmly against his chest, creating a wall between you. “No.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t.”
For a moment, Suguru just stands there, staring at you, his dark eyes searching yours for something—some kind of understanding, some sign that you’ll change your mind. His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch softer now, almost hesitant, as though he’s trying to hold on to whatever connection is left.
But then, slowly, he withdraws, his hand falling back to his side. He straightens up, his expression hardening as he steps away from you, giving you the space you so desperately need. The softness in his eyes fades, replaced by the cold determination you’ve seen before.
“You’ll see,” he says, his voice quiet, but there’s a sharp edge to it now. “One day, you’ll understand. When you see what I’ve seen, when you finally understand the truth about this world—you’ll come around. I know you will.”
His words hang heavy in the air, and without another glance, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving you standing alone, trembling in the silence.
Nanami Kento
Kento was an honest man. There was nothing he ever kept from you. Other people might view him as a hard shell, but you could read him like a book.
So when he came to bed that night, holding you just a little tighter than usual—you knew something was up.
You shifted slightly in his embrace, his grip tightening instinctively as if he feared you might slip away.
“Kento?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room. 
“I’ve decided to talk to Gojo tomorrow.” he said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of resolve. “I want to return to being a sorcerer.”
The words hung in the air, sinking into you like lead. You stiffened, a sharp sting blooming in your chest as you processed his decision.
“Are you seriously considering this?” Your voice trembled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You know what that life entails. You’ve seen the consequences. Are you really willing to go back to that danger?”
Kento’s silence was heavier than any response he could have given. His arms, though still holding you close, seemed distant now, as if they were reaching out from across a chasm of uncertainty.
“I’ve thought it through,” he said finally, though his tone lacked the conviction he tried to project. “I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep pretending I’m satisfied with where I am.”
The last words echoed in your ears their weight sinking deep into your heart. “So you’re not satisfied with me?” you whispered, barely able to speak past the knot forming in your throat.
Kento’s eyes widened in shock. “No, that’s not what I meant—”
“Then what is it, Kento?” you demanded, frustration and hurt sharpening your words. “We have something good here. You have a good job. You left Jujustu High for a reason! What about Haibara—”
At the mention of Haibara, Kento’s face hardened. His eyes, which had been searching for the right words, now burned with anger and frustration. “Don’t.”
Your eyes widen at his tone. He sighs, trying to catch himself. “This…isn’t about him, or his fate. It’s about my own path, my own choices. You think I’m risking everything without knowing the cost?”
 “And what do you expect me to do, Kento?” Your voice cracked, raw emotion rising as you slid out of bed, unable to lie still any longer. “Sit at home and worry about you? Not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece? I can’t live like that! I can’t live every day with the fear that you might not come back, that you might be hurt or worse?”
The silence that followed was suffocating. You paced the room, your emotions boiling over, while Kento sat still, his gaze following you but offering no solace.
“You’re asking me to accept a life where every day is a gamble with your safety!” You stopped, turning to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. “How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to pretend everything’s okay when the reality is that you might not come back to me? This isn’t just about you, Kento. It’s about us, our future!”
Kento ran a hand through his blond locks, frustration etched into every line of his face. “I’m not asking you to pretend it’s okay. I’m asking you to understand that this is something I need to do for myself, even if it means risking everything.”
You blinked, tears blurring your vision as his words sank in. “And what if everything we have is the cost?”
The question lingered, echoing in the space between you. Kento rose from the bed, standing tall before you, but the weight of the moment seemed to bow his shoulders.
He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His eyes, filled with a deep sadness, searched yours, looking for understanding that he knew might never come. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to know that.”
You shook your head, your voice breaking. “But that isn’t enough… is it? It never will be…”
There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of your words pressing down on both of you.
“I… can’t watch you throw your life away, Kento.”
He took a deep breath, the sound heavy with resignation. "Then… we’ve both made our decision."
His hands, which had held you with such tenderness, felt distant as you pulled away. You took a step back, a sob catching in your throat.
He opens his mouth, but no words come out with a trembling breath, he stepped forward and gently pulled you into his arms. The embrace was tender, filled with the weight of finality.
He buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time as if trying to imprint it into his memory. The warmth of his body, once a comfort, now felt like a dagger in your chest.
“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice strained. The words were barely audible, but the sentiment hung heavy in the air.
Kento lingered for a moment, his hand sliding from your back to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, and his expression softened with a promise you weren’t sure either of you could believe.
“I’ll come back,” he whispered, his voice strained but resolute. “Somehow… I’ll find my way back to you. One day.”
You clung to him for a moment longer, feeling the ache of goodbye in every fiber of your being, before he slowly pulled away. Leaving you.
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classyrbf · 6 months ago
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we need shy freak I beggg, he ain’t seen this coming🙈
ᯓ★ FREAK LIKE ME! — GOJO SATORU
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SYNOPSIS...being the quiet girl sometimes has its perks and gojo satoru is in for a hell of a ride
INFO...gojo x fem!reader, quiet!reader, handjob, edging, kinda sub!gojo, dom!reader, establish relationship, reader reads smut/watches porn, overstim, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
thanks for the request anon, I hope you enjoy!
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Gojo Satoru was known for being the rich, handsome, popular kid who always had girls fawning over him everywhere he went. He’d get any girl he want just by flashing a smile and before he knew it, they’re panties dropped to the floor. College was fun when you were going out every other night, fucking this girl and that girl, because who cares? Surely not him. But one thing no one anticipated, not even Gojo himself, was getting a girlfriend who was quite literally the opposite of him. You were so adorable to him, different from the rest, too buried in your books and work to care about anything else going on.
Gojo noticed very quickly that you were the shy, quiet type. Everytime he’d try to kiss you, even compliment you, you’d turn away with a flustered look. “Awe, is my baby shy?” He’d chuckle, kissing your cheek. It was something he wasn’t used to at all, but he liked it.
You’d bought a new dress from the mall and Gojo demanded that you show him, practically pleading on his hands and knees when you shrugged your shoulders. Eventually you gave you in, walking out from the bathroom, hands clasped together and head hung low. “Do you like it?” You quietly asked.
“Like it? Baby, I love it! I’m resisting the temptation to just bend you over and fuck you right here!” His eyes widen in surprise. He chuckles at the way you turn your head away from him.
“Toru! Don’t say stuff like that! You scold him while hiding your face. Gojo thinks you’re the most innocent thing known to man, getting all shy over the smallest things. But what your clueless boyfriend didn’t know is that you weren’t some innocent, quiet girl who had zero clue about sex or intimacy in general. You watched porn, read smut, and fantasized about all the nasty things you wanted to do to your boyfriend.
It wasn’t until one day you decided it was time to get over your fears and show your boyfriend what he was missing out on.
“Baby—nnngh, ah—s-slow down…fuck!” His voiced cracked, head falling back into the crook of your neck as you pumped his cock from behind, his precum messily smearing over his length. “W-where—mmph—did this even come from?” He chuckled, hips stuttering when you squeezed the head of his cock tighter. His body slouched between your legs, chest heaving up and down. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum already!”
You wickedly giggled in his ear and Gojo absolutely has no idea how to feel in this moment. Who were you and what did you do to his sweet girl? “You’re leaking so much, Toru. You’ve been thinking about this, huh?” You darted your tongue out, licking a stripe on his skin. His entire body shuddered in your hold, eyes clenching shut when you ran your thumb over his throbbing red tip.
“Yes, yes, I’ve been thinking about it—hah!” He nods his head, his nails digging into the plush of your thighs as you bring him on the brink of his orgasm before slowing down your movements. “No, no, baby don’t tease me like that!” He whines, bucking his hips into your hand.
“You’re so needy! Does my pretty boy wanna cum?” You smirk against his skin, peppering small kisses from his jaw to his neck. He quickly nods his head, whimpering like a bitch in heat. Your hand firmly wraps around his throat and Gojo swears he’s sent to another planet. Where did you learn all this from? From who? From what? It’s like you switched personalities. But he loves it, craves it even.
“Oh my god,” he groans, eyes rolling back when you squeeze the base of his cock and slowly drag your hand up his shaft in circular motion. “Please, please, please,” he begs. His cheeks flushed a baby pink while drool forms at the corner of his mouth.
“Such a good boy, aren’t you? Already begging to cum.” You began to pump your hand faster, his legs shaking and hips stuttering. You wrap your legs around his, restricting him from moving any more than he already is.
His abs tense up, body jolting while his lewd moans echo off the walls of your bedroom. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna—shit, shit…gonna cum,” he whimpers. His brows in a concentrated furrow, too focused on the way your hand is wrapped around his thick, veiny cock. “C-cumming,” he’s barely able to groan out, his entire body going limp when you squeeze his throat harder. Your mischievous giggles send the blood rushing straight to his dick and milliseconds later spurts of his cum shoot from his aching tip. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” His hips are shaking, globs of cum coating his abs and your hands, using it as lube.
“You’re still cumming,” you chuckle, his hips writhing beneath you. Gojo has never came this hard in his life and his dick was still pulsating in your hand.
“S-so sensitive,” he cries out, gritting his teeth as tears form in the corner of his eyes. His breath hitches and he swears he could see stars in his vision.
“Want me to stop? Is it too much, baby?” Your sultry tone sends shivers down his spine. He shakes his head no, biting down on his bottom lip, a metallic taste filling his mouth. “That’s what I thought.”
a/n: y/n is boughta make me bust and I’m the one writing her lmaoo
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taglist (comment to be added):
@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0
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