#I love her I need to draw her again >:T

[canisalbus]

i would like to imagine that after machete dies, vasco starts collecting red things. red, like the soles of machetes shoes and the hems of his cassocks, the front of his nightgowns after a heavy nosebleed. or maybe he collects pink things, like machete's nose and ears and paw pads, or things white like his fur. he never collects anything black, however. red like the hems but never black like the fabric. black is too sad. it's grief, it's unfathomable loss and it means admitting machete is actually gone, stolen from the world. but ludovica is there, and she indulges his collections in little ways on the occasion. it's a small comfort, her love for her husband in their lavender way.

.

[lemon-wedges]

...

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[pomegranate-theater]

ᥫ᭡ POSITIONS THEY PUT YOU IN / Jing Yuan, Sunday, Blade, Aventurine, Dr Ratio

cw: female reader, smut, praise, biting, soft and rough, semi public in Dr Ratio’s, established relationship. not suitable for minors.

Jing Yuan - spooning

It’s no secret Jing Yuan loves to keep his hands on you all the time. He’s a sucker for feeling your skin every moment possible, casually slipping his hand under your shirt when sleeping or watching a movie together, confirming you’re there with him.

Sex was no different. He would manhandle you without even intending to do so, wanting to have you close to him, merging your body with his on your bedsheets. That’s why he was currently entrapping your form from behind, as you both lied on your sides, a position perfect to hold you close and feel your body. His strong arms were wrapped one around your hips, pushing you onto his cock with draws in from his arms, the other around your chest, fondling your breasts and nipples with his hand. His lips kept sucking on your nape, biting, kissing.

The arm around your hips, its hand would slip between your thighs, rubbing your clit or against your entrance, wanting to feel where his fat cock drove into you. You were being pushed back and forth onto his length, bed creaking, his balls slapping you heavily, yet not once did his grip on you has loosened up, as he whispered praises into your ear.

“Can you feel it, how deep I go? Of course you can…you take me so well after all.”

Sunday - missionary

Despite Sunday’s oftentimes confident demeanor, you were well aware he could be no less but vulnerable and even embarrassed when it came to you both sharing intimacy. He was stilly fairly inexperienced, though always making sure you get your share of pleasure. Sunday also loved intimacy not just for some hedonistic desire, but for how close it put you two together.

He couldn’t really handle any position where he couldn’t see your face. He wanted to see the one he loves, and he needed to be able to tell if you’re enjoying yourself.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, his arms under your torso, he kept rocking into you slowly but deeply, and his eyes would drift between where he disappeared and back onto your face covered in flush and pleasure, lingering there longer. Sunday was drinking in, not even realizing how much he was staring, and when you finally looked him in the eye, none of you looked away, hypnotized by the sway of your hips against each other. Until it was you who was too embarrassed to keep going, gathering blanket into your hand nervously.

“My darling…” he said softly, “Please keep your beautiful eyes on me. I need to see all of you.”

Blade - prone bone

His life full of misery, you were his respite. He did not like he often felt as if he was using you, despite how often you didn’t feel that way, wanting him the same way, if not more. But he could never deny himself of you, if you were offering yourself so shamelessly.

That’s why his heavy body was on top of yours, your face flattened against the mattress. Blade was not crushing you entirely, slightly raising his body above yours on his forearms against the mattress, each on the sides of your prone body, though it only led his harsh thrusts to be more controlled and with that, deeper. Each shove of his cock, you could hear how wet you were for him, and he would groan into your ear.

His face was buried in the space between your neck and shoulder, where he’d kiss you and latch hickeys onto. Where he felt you tighten around him again, he growled. “That’s it…take this pleasure I give you…you did earn it.”

Aventurine - cowgirl

You were his beautiful girl, one he loved to spoil you and see look her best. He loved for his eyes to take in your body every given time of the day, even more to fluster you with his charming compliments.

He also loved to see you on top of him, where Aventurine could observe and see everything that made you this beautiful, including anything he’d bought you recently. He was seated on the armchair in your shared bedroom like a king, your body straddling him chest to chest.

You worked so hard for him, holding onto his hands on your hips, as you sunk down his hard cock deep and fast to ride him with fervor. The necklace he’s given you same day before, kept bouncing against your tits, its green stone disappearing between breasts.

“I am a person with a great luck indeed…if this is who I get to have,” Aventurine praised with genuine pride and appreciation, his hand on your hip travelling higher to meet and grip your waist to push himself even deeper into you. He loved a whine he forced from you, and his other hand rubbed your clit in gratitude, followed by a heated kiss against your lips.

Dr Ratio - over his desk

Veritas would have never seen you in terms of simple lust. He’s seen you for each aspect of you, everything that made you. But even he, would fall a victim to your allure, and with that, desire.

He’s made it very clear he’s not comfortable with PDA at the very beginning of your relationship, only to keep breaking that rule without you even having to ask for. But this was reaching new levels of him thinking with his body, and not mind.

Dr Ratio had you currently bent over his desk, in the very same office of university he’s been teaching at. He was standing behind you, his body covering yours, and pressing your front against the desk; and kept you in place with an arm secured over your belly he stroked with his hand. You visited your boyfriend only to give him lunch, but whether it was something about the weather or any excuse you’d find for each other, you both couldn’t make it home first.

His other hand was covering your mouth, shushing you with a scold each time you tried to be louder than allowed. As much as he was going so far, he still wanted to protect both of yours privacy, not get caught by passing by professors or students. “Keep your mouth shut, love. You wouldn’t want others to hear you, would you?”

But how could you keep quiet? Him hitting you from behind, his thick cock was angled perfectly, its vein rubbing your g-spot with each thrust. Veritas was not being easy on you either—his snaps of hips were mean and almost too deep, and he occasionally silently cursed when you squeezed around him, or managed to let out a beautiful mewl through his fingers. You could have noticed the effect you had on him, with the way his caging arm gripped your midriff tightly.

“Just bear with being quiet a little longer,” he said, his deep voice now surely trembling, “And I’ll reward you even more once we get home.”

Thankfully, his desk was durable enough.

<3

[dragonsoulage]

When they are drunk on it -

feat. Neji Hyuga, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha

Here we have some handsome shinobi men, all of them addicted and can’t help themselves when they feel you around them in the best way possible. Pūssy drunk might be the words what describes them when they have you in their hands.

Hello world, it’s me being back, this time with more of a thirst like thing here. I picked out 5 of our beloved men and decided to write some smutty smut ✨🌚 so I hope you enjoy 🤌🏻🤌🏻

Wordcount: 4,7k

Warnings: Sm*t, p in v, pūssy drunk men, praising, sometimes a little degrading

MDNI

Neji Hyuga ~ Got him surprisingly hooked…

„Keep moving, baby." you heard him and hell was he whipped. You were his precious girl on top of him. Dragging your cute pussy up and down his shaft. These cute pants because you draw out of breath. His right hand glued to your hip. His gaze solemnly locked onto your face. Sometimes dropping watching how enticingly your gorgeous tits bounced for him.

„I... I can't baby. My legs..." you stuttered, but your cute reply followed by a sweet moan. And then you could listen to a snicker of him. Neji never just snickered or grinned, just like he did now. Every time he fucked you, he was a little rough because he knew you liked it. But after that training today, you offered to ride him. Little did you know he enjoyed it so much that it had been hours now. He stuffed your puffy pussy full of his cum. Enjoying how it dribbled out of you. Every few moments, he dragged his thumb down your slit. How your pussy tried to take his dick. The little shudder you did when he wiped over your soaping wet clit.

But now, he was drunk on that pussy. He couldn't stop, nor did he want to stop. No matter how composed Neji truly was when it was about you, especially now you were being on top of him. He can't deny that he loved watching you like this. The feel of your little cunt squeezing him, and fluttered when he dragged the curve of his dick right to the spot where you needed it.

When he grabbed your hips just to slam you down a little more. Just to listen how your wet pussy would be squelching around him. To watch how a creamy ring formed around his base.  

Neji usually never the one who talked much. Indeed, he tried to keep his noises in check. No matter how hot you think he was, he always thought he wouldn't deserve a girlfriend like you. And then have her so pretty spread out for him. Sometimes when you were lucky he praised you and calling you „a good girl" before he smacked your ass, just how he knew you liked it.

But right now? The groan he let out, the way his head fell in the pillows. You tried to keep up with his stamina, a cute try, but you couldn't. Legs and thighs already shaking. Your pussy still so sloppy from all the cumming.

„I said keep moving. Want this pretty pussy to cum again." he said, he just noticed how wet you seemed to get when he talked to you like this. Grabbing a good chunk of your ass when he leaned forward now.

„I need her to cum again, feels so good when she is....ah, trying to milk every last bit." his jaw clenched slightly. You felt so good being wrapped around him. So warm and soft and so fucking wet. You felt how he ground you against him. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis, making your hands lay on his chest. As you tried to steady yourself.

„Her?" you asked, a little blush on your cheeks, and not just because his thick cock was inside you. He didn't want you to stop. To satisfied with the way you bounced on top of him. Too mesmerized how your sweet pussy was taking every mean inch of him. Every drag he made you do on his dick was just getting meaner. But damn he was pussy drunk. „Yes, this sweet pussy of yours."

Usually when his sweet girl couldn't take it any longer, he was a gentleman, flipping you over to pound into you in the best way possible. But not today. Not when he had his girl so sloppy on top of him.

"Such a messy girl, you are. So sloppy and wet." he stated with a husky tone, god he was gone. He felt too good right now.

„Please, Neji." *you added, but he just grabbed your waist, giving you a hold before he made you slam down his dick over and over again. His hips bucking up into your welcoming heat.

And then you heard him groan, his lavender eyes rolling back, pretty lips parted slightly.

„Feels too good, your pussy feels too good." he said, his voice strained with the effort to not just whine, but the feeling how your walls grabbing him was too good, so he failed.

„Sooo tight." he added, and you heard a gasp from his throat. Yourself being busy with moaning. Already felt the next orgasm approaching....aware this wouldn't be the end of this. He would fuck you long enough until you would being sore the next morning. 

Shikamaru Nara ~ Taking his sweet time…

Shikamaru was a man, when he was pussy drunk he wouldn't just rut into you because it felt so good. He was a man who appreciated every little move your cute pussy made. Savoring the feeling, so sensual, it had you being impatient and needy.

Thighs spread as he grabbed with both hands the back of them, spreading them just a little more apart. A low groan was coming out of his mouth. Eyes locked with your pussy and how pretty your petals part for him, as he sunk into you, so slow. Every inch, slowly inserting to let you feel every curve and vein of him. Your lips shaped in a pretty ‚o' hoping he would finally fuck you how you needed it. Because this was like the nth time, he just slowly pushed inside you to pull out completely and doing it all over again. And this time not just for teasing no, he enjoyed your cunt to the fullest, the way it fit so snugly around him.

„Shikaaaa." you pouted and this was then the only time he took his dark eyes away from your pussy. A hand coming to lay on your cheek, thumb gazing your bottom lip.

„Stop pouting, let me savor this...perfect pussy." he said to you, already aware how needy you were. Alone the way your juices flowed out, the way you clenched around his tip when he pushed into you so damn slowly.

„Can't a man enjoy his girl's pussy, hm?" his breath tickled your ear when he leaned down. And then with a little harder thrust making you moan. He was mean.

„You do this for hours. I need you, why you are so mean." you spoke, but it was followed by a small gasp when his other hand came to drag a thumb over your clit, making your eyes close shortly.

„Is it my fault when someone got a cunt that is squeezing me in the most delicious way?" he asked, making you tremble when his thumb circled your clit over and over again so slow. You felt his fat cock pulsing inside you. As you tried to drag down your pussy just a little more. „It's just so addicting, sweetheart. You can't blame me, can you?" he purred before you finally felt that he was starting to move. Still a slow and sensual pace. Shikamaru nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck before you heard that deep groan in your ear, that made you so fucking wet. He sounded so sexy when he was enjoying you to his fullest.

Your fingers went to his hair, gently tugging on the strands that still were bound in his signature ponytail. You felt every vein on his shaft, and slowly he gave in to it, you what you craved so much. Your boyfriend stopped fucking you so lazy after he savored every little clench and flutter of your tight wet heat.

„Feels already better." you sighted cute, and he started to pick up more pace. Licking over your salty, sweet skin on your neck. Hands laying on your hips before he dragged his shaft all the way in just to bottom out and slam into you.

„God, Shika." you whined already. It was always like this, complaining when he teased you too much but whining when he finally started fucking you. Really fucking you. You were even better than watching clouds. Watching how your pretty tits bounced when he slammed into you was a sight to behold for him.

The way your heated skin clung to his. Or when you threw your arms over his shoulders. This was the moment he got so lost in your perfect little cunt.

„Fuck...look at that always so greedy and needy and when I give in you start whining." he murmured with a growl nipping on the sensitive skin behind your ear making you shudder. Then he decided to get a little up, grabbing your hips just a little tighter. Before he gave into the feeling of your heavenly cunt and started pounding. Head fell in the back of his neck. Exposing his adam apple that bobbed when he swallowed thickly because only you and your pretty little pussy could make him feel like this.

You were just shortly able to take in this sight. The way his body looked so good covered in a little sweat from the hours he just wanted to feel you wrapped around him. Your juices all over his cock. Your fingers laid against his lower abdomen, when he now was just able to use you how he saw fit and needed it.

„Gorgeous fucking girl, feeling so good around me. Makes me nearly lose my...urgh composure." he muttered under his breath, just seconds before you could listen to that whine what escaped his parted lips. Just to gave you a particular hard thrust after this.

He was so pussy drunk now. Lost in that heat that took every inch of him so well. Your pussy sucking in his dick. Your lazy boyfriend who just got so addicted to the feeling of you around him.

Thick cock pounding you now extra hard after that whine that he let out. Although, he didn't deny that you made him feel this good. As if every expectation that were placed on him fell off his shoulders. Just you and him and this damn good feeling of you squeezing him. The lewd squelches of your sex and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

„Nearly? I am sure I heard you whine." you panted a little cheeky and this was the moment he looked down at you. Before he decided to push the digit of his thumb in your mouth. To make you shut up and giving you something to be busy.

You sucked on his thumb, delicate plump lips wrapped around the thick digit as you looked so pretty fucked out while he could continue to get just more high on your dripping pussy.

„What a drag when pretty girl is being so cocky. You should learn to think before you open these beautiful lips to speak." was the only thing he said to you before his free hand slapped your pussy, making contact with your clit. Just to listen to the next whine you let off, followed by a deep groan. Making his eyes roll back in bliss before he continued to fuck you just how he needed it when he was this whipped by you.

Naruto Uzumaki ~ Drilling you with no end…

„Just the tip, baby, please." he let out, groaning again when his weeping tip smeared his pre cum over the hot slit of your pussy. When Naruto was pussy drunk, he fucks like nothing else.

He already made you cum three times in a row. Himself spilling his seed into you and well he had so much energy he simply needed you and his pretty girls pussy that felt so damn good around him.

And now, after your last shattering orgasm, you nearly crawled away from him. His hand laid on your plush rear, dragging you back to him. Angry red tip brushing over your clit, making your back arch just a little more.

„Baby, I don't know if I can take it." you pouted, and yet he felt how you leaned a little into his touch.

Naruto was aware how greedy he had been. But what should he do? He loved you, and he loved stuffing your pussy full of him. You were just so soft and when he was inside you, shit, he couldn't help then to just push his length in these dripping walls of yours and make you all these cute little noises he liked so much. He enjoyed watching your ass a little jiggle when he trusted inside you.

The blonde boy leaned over your back. His chest pressed against your skin. One hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Breath tickling your ear.

„You always take me so good, sweetheart. I just can't help it when you bend over sooooo..." he started before he made his tip disappear inside your weeping right entrance. Making you gasp and lift your had a little.

„....pretty and inviting. Your cute pussy begs me to put it inside, you know?" he ended his sentence just to listen to the lewd, sloppy squelch of your cunt.

Naruto was always a golden retriever boyfriend. Full of energy and happy, trying to make you happy for sure. But hell, when he was so whipped with your creamy pussy. He just couldn't stop.

Having you all bend over so nicely. Ass on display, ready for him to grab your soft skin, pull you back onto his dripping dick.

"I know? You say this for like the third time. I will be so sore tomorrow." you whimpered, but your pussy spread so willingly to let more inside than just his fat tip.

His dick was slightly curved, dragging along your gripping walls.

Naruto hissed as soon as he felt how you already clenched around him. He couldn't wait, of course not, Whenever could someone like Naruto wait and be patient without just going after his instinct?

With a gentle tug on your hips his whole length, sheathed in that familiar warmth, coating his cock, making him feel all the more butterflies in his tummy...or more his balls, perhaps.

You gasped and draw a sharp breath, your hands fisting the messy sheets underneath you.

"The fourth, actually, pretty. That's the fourth time. And you just feel even more better. Shit..." he corrected you, of course he counted, as if ever would pass the chance to count the times he fucked you, raw and how often you came all over his pretty dick.

At least he gave you a moment, adjusting so snugly to him. As if you would mold into the perfect shape for him. His cute girlfriend never failed to please him. Never failed to look so good in his sky blue eyes.

This man would ravish you anytime of the day. You wore a hoodie and having messy hair? Damn, you looked hot to him, hands grabbing under the thick fabric.

You made yourself pretty because you went out? Well, he would need just to show you how much he adored your cute outfit.

But now? Hell, it was just in the morning, you not even made it out of bed before. Technically, he wanted to make you some cute breakfast. The one time he was sooner awake than you. He could be the cutest dork ball. But when he tried to wake you up, watching how your shirt slipped up, exposing your ass to him, it was over.   

So instead of feeding you breakfast, he fed you 7 inches of his dick. Making your eyes wide, and he just loved hearing your cute little 'ah' over and over again. This pussy got him hooked right in the morning, his eyes rolling back as he grabbed your hips nearly bruising as soon as he was inside you and gave you this short amount of time to adjust again he started to rut into you, so fast. His own eyes crossing.

"I never get tired of this, I swear. You're just so wet...and take me so well. You are such a good princess, you know? My pretty princess with even a more pretty pussy." he started to babble, to tell yo how good you were to him while he rearranged your guts again and again.

He always praised you so sweet as if he wouldn't fuck the shit out of you, in the early morning.

"Na-Naruto. Slow...ah slow down." you panted but as answer? Oh, he gently pushed your head in the mattress, of course before he ever does that he had asked you if this was ok with you. Since you told him you liked it when he was a little rough. And now? God, he wanted to hear your pussy talk to him, and he couldn't slow down at all, not when you were wrapped around him like this.

Yourself starting to drool by the way his dick was drilling inside you.

"Sorry, baby, I give you...fuck. I give you the best aftercare you can wish for, but I need you like this now. Bend over and drilling into this snug cunt of yours." he told you, groaning before he got lost inside your depth all over again. 

Kakashi Hatake ~ „You can give me another one…“

Sensei knows what he is doing, so aware, he won't stop so soon. Having his sweet girl in a mean mating press, having you in such a tight grip when he bends your knees down to your chest.

Watching how your jaw hung slack, and your eyes looked at him in shock that it was already the third time he came inside you, not even flinching to just fuck his cum right back into you.

"Kashi..." you tried to speak, but you were made shut up when his girthy dick stretched you out so delicious, making you throb so needy and yet so breathless.

"You do so great for me, sweetheart." he praised, his voice so steady and filled with adoration. He loved his girl, oh he did, so much. But he also loved the way you were able to stretch around him, how your pink pussy parts for him. The way you always whined how you couldn't anymore, but your pretty cunt told him something different.

He sank down his dick as he just put more weight into you, until he was inside you to the hilt. Pelvis grinding against you, making you shudder and roll your eyes back when the gentle curve hit your cervix. These white silver hairs from his happy trail tickling your puffy folds.

Making you all the way more desperate for him.

"You said you would be done...darling." you breathed when you tried to not just cum again like a whore just because he put his dick back into your dripping entrance.

Before he said something you could listen to the husky small chuckle, before he pulled down his mask, just to flash you a small smirk. Before he spit down, a stream of spit right onto your aching clit.

Leaning just a little more over to look you right in your wide doe eyes before his hand found the way between your thighs, slowly smearing his spit along your swollen nub, making you whimper.

"Just one more time, my sweet. I just love getting you so full, you always have this adorable pout." he said, and you could listen that even when he seemed to be so composed, hell Kakahsi was gone.   

You gripped him so tight, making it hard for him to not just pound into you all over again, giving you a little time to relax...as far as this is possible with his thick cock inside you. Muscles flexing when he grabbed your thigh tighter pressing you down and literally folding you in half in a sweet, sweet mating press.

After all, he liked seeing it when you took every ounce of his cum inside you. Every creamy string that he shoot into your womb, nothing would go to waste, right? Well, he simply fucked it back into you. Kakahsi was so drunk from your pussy that he only managed to let out a shaky groan, while he continued to rub over your nub.

And there it was this little pout he adored so much, just then he decided to move again.

Dragging his pulsating cock along your inner walls. Nearly bottoming out so just the tip remained inside, before he gave you a long deep stroke.

Lips parting to moan for him. 

"See you take me so well, how can I not want to see this expression of yours? You are such a good girl for me, aren't you?" his voice like some sinful silk wrapping around you, making you nod with teary eyes when he started to fuck you, it was not that fast, but he was so deep. Savoring your tight passage in the best way possible.

"Come on, tell me how good you want to be for me, yeah? You can do that right. Use your words, darling." he urged you, making you whimper again with the next thrust of his hips.

Thumb circled your clit with such a precision it made it so hard for you to think about words. Your skin flushed when he talked like this.

"Want to be....nghh good for you." you managed to say, earning a low rumble in his chest that was a chuckle, before his pickup his pace just a little, both hands on your thighs now. Looking right into your face.

"And good girls, can take one more. Just one more pretty orgasm, one more shudder of your pretty pussy. So shamelessly spread for me." he whispered against your lips then, not kissing you yet, although you wanted him to.

A little loving tease he was. Giving you the meanest treatment with his cock that was pulsating inside you, and yet he cooed you into a soothing balm of his voice.

Indeed, he groaned again at the feeling how you started to clench, and flutter around him. Increasing his pace now, hips snapping against yours. Even when he was not breaking a sweat doing this, but oh you felt so good to him, he couldn't get enough.

"Ahhh god... I am-" you didn't manage to speak properly, eyes rolling back. And you couldn't help to loll your tongue out. Kakashi loved to see you like this, so fucked out, and yet your pussy didn't get enough.

"Hmm, such a cute little slut for me, cumming all along my cock... So adorable." he cooed while looking down at you. Pussy feeling too hot, too slick and too good. Even when he said one more...it wasn't just one more before he fucked you through the next orgasm all over again and would pump you so full of his own cum....  

Itachi Uchiha ~ Falling simply more in love…

When Itachi was pussy drunk, god, he couldn't help then to hold you close, feeling your hot skin against his. Can't even believe that this cute girl was all his. That you let him have this heavenly access to the paradise between your legs. Hands grabbing everywhere where they could reach, kissing your skin, cooing the sweet little nothing's in your ear, while you took his mean, mean dick all the way inside. Itachi had you in reverse cowgirl now. Your plush rear so pretty on display watching how your pink pussy stretched around his length. How you swallowed every delicious inch of him, again and again and again.

Making the shinobi groan in adoration. He never had seen a more beautiful sight. Although, it was hard for him to decide if he liked it more to see your beautiful face contoured in pleasure when he was putting inside his thick inches. Or if he likes it more facing your backside in this angle having you bounce on him, so eagerly to please him.   

You made him just so weak, so weak for your perfect little cunt, it had him gasping. He sat up just to feel you close, even when you rode him reverse into oblivion, he was sure you did.

Eyes closed and yet he saw everything. Lips nipping against your skin, tasting sweet, salty skin. Inhaling your scent. You always smelled so sweet to him but now when you were bouncing on his dick...hell, the smell of your arousal, it turned him on to no end. One strong arm wrapped around your waist, loosely, so you still could drag your wet cunt down his shaft.

"You look so pretty love, so pretty...hmm for me." he murmured against your ear, breath hot over it.

"Do I? Mind to tell me that again?" you asked, no matter how much you thought you would be in control it was Itachi who chuckled, giving into the wishes of his princess. Letting you think you might have had control, although since he was now so whipped with your pussy, you might even have.

"Don't be so rude when you take me this sloppy all the way in." he spoke while his free hand tugged back a strand of hair, before he kissed your cheekbone. Hands now both on the curve of your hip, helping you to slam down just a little harder onto him.

"Fuck." you moaned then, feeling his hard, thick cock just more deep. Making you wiggle down onto him, this had him groaning again, so deep. Holding you so close now, looking down to see how cute your ass jiggled when he thrusted upwards. 

"You have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me like this, it's like heaven." the dark haired man let you know. Oh, he was so lovely to you, even when he noticed how shaky your legs got, how breathy your cute moans were from the way he hit the spot inside you.

As much as he loved fucking you full of his cum, he enjoyed to hold back his massive load for you. Making you a cum a few times on him, just so you would end up, to beg him so cute if he finally gives you his creamy, thick white cum. Such a slut you were for your boyfriend.

"Itachi, baby. Want your cum." you pouted, he was sure he could hear it, before he thrusted sharp up again. Both arms wrapping around you now as he pressed his front to your back.

"You really do, hm? I can tell your legs grow numb, huh? Pretty girl too weak, to take me?" he teased husky, gently biting your neck, what made you whimper.

Not even arguing this time with him.

"Fine, I grant you what you wish, my darling." he murmured before he let go of you laying down back in the pillows, grabbing your soft flesh of your bouncy ass.

Helping you to thrust back onto his massive shaft, over and over again.

Biting his lower lip gently when he watched the lewd display, when the noise of your skin clapping against his, was heard. The way the bed creaked. It was just so hot for him. 

"Be a naughty girl, love. Rub that clit for me, want you to cum with me this time." he commanded softly, and you couldn't help but to dance your own fingers over your swollen nub.

Itachi controlling your hips to his liking, just taking in the sensation. Not even holding back to moan your name, since he loved you so much, loved the feeling of your pussy.

Getting drunk on it like this. Eyes closed, head in the pillows...just feeling right now.

Feeling how your walls clamped down around his cock the closer you got, how his tip hit that spongy part inside you. Making you shudder and squirm a little, every time he hit that spot.

His hips bucking upwards faster, more desperate for release.

"God, I fucking...urgh love you." he panted and gasped, his balls drawing up so, so tight. You felt too good to stop.

You rubbed your clit with urgency, yourself seconds away from cumming all over his lap.

"Baby...:" you managed to squeal out before you tensed, your cunt squeezing him so god, it made his eyes roll back, pumping you full of his hot and potent seed. Rope after rope, painting your insides white. Not that he had enough now....no.

With a quick move he bends you over then, simply fucking through your orgasm and through his, this would be a long night ahead.

Just because your legs grew numb wouldn't mean your pussy can't take more right?

[delphi-shield]

SAY IT BACK ↪ letting them leave without an ily

finishing up some smaller things from my wip folder before i buckle down and work on the big stuff again. here's this doofy little fluff piece.

characters included: chris redfield, leon kennedy, jill valentine, ada wong

content: fluff. just fluff. established relationship. mildly ooc behavior for the sake of fluff (also known as being in a relationship and acting stupid)

You found it on TikTok - or maybe it was Instagram, or Facebook - doesn't matter. One of the media conglomerates had given you a horrible idea about how to tease your loving, devoted partner.

It's simple - when they said 'I love you' before they left for work, you just wouldn't say it back. What could go wrong?

Chris Redfield ↪

Did not notice. Secure. In his lane. Unbothered. Probably not moisturized. (Get him a nice oil, fragrance free. He'll like it more if you massage it into his muscles for him, spend a little extra time smoothing along the curve of his spine, up and over the tightness of his shoulders.)

If you're at the point with Chris where he's saying “I love you” in place of a goodbye, he doesn't need to hear you say it back. He's confident in your relationship. Hearing it is just a nice bonus.

You're going to get your own feelings hurt here. Sent yourself into a spiral. Like, damn, does he not listen? Does he not care? What the fuck is his deal?

Chris is legitimately confused when you bring it up to him later. Doesn't get the point of the whole thing. “Why wouldn't you just say you love me?” Head cocked to the side, so puppy-like you can practically see the velvety ears flopping over.

Really doesn't do the whole social media thing. Even when you show him videos as an example, he's just shrugging. "I'm pretty sure those are skits, honey. No one really reacts like that."

If only he knew. Hey - at least now you know that Chris is perfectly content in your relationship and won't let anything silly like this bother him. It's just a sign to ramp up the pranks - more practical jokes, less subtle, harmless emotional manipulation.

That's what you thought, at least, but when Chris flips the light off that night and sidles up behind you in bed, strong arms slipping around your middle and tugging you back to him, his voice rumbles in your ear - "You gonna tell me you love me, or is this gonna be a problem?"

And Chris is really good at extracting confessions. How badly do you actually want to get some sleep tonight?

Jill Valentine ↪

Doesn't seem to have noticed that you ignored her. Walked right out the door without missing a step, didn't even glance back. Her car pulls out of the garage, her sunglasses on - she seems entirely unbothered.

Oh, she’s bothered.

Jill Valentine is Not Petty™️. And she does not pout when her partner doesn't say ‘I love you’ back. She's in a pissy mood at work for a completely unrelated reason. She's not returning your texts because she's busy at work, not because she's trying (and failing) to give you a taste of your own medicine.

She definitely doesn't carry that storm cloud all the way home with her, doesn't rain on your parade when you cheerfully announce that dinner's ready and on the table.

You're trying everything you can think of to cheer her up. Asking about work got you a noncommittal shrug. You'd offered to draw a bath for her - or (preferably) for the both of you, but she'd dismissed the idea, talking about how it would take up too much time.

She didn't have the heart to shrug you off when you started massaging her shoulders. Despite your silence in the morning, you were clearly intent on taking care of her. Maybe nothing was wrong. Maybe you just hadn't heard her.

Her palm presses against your cheek, turns you to face her. She searches your eyes for a moment, her gaze unreadable. "Thanks for dinner. I love you."

Nothing. Fucking nothing. "You're welcome."

Jill knows that look on your face, that shit-eating grin that you're trying to cover up by glancing down, by pretending to be flustered. Her hands grip your hips. She manhandles you into her lap, chair scraping against the floor to make room for the both of you.

"Okay - spill. What's up with you?"

Once you explain, she's not mad about the whole thing, not really. But you can't help but notice that she's been withholding kisses lately, and-- wait.

Fuck. Now she's turned the tables on you.

Leon Kennedy ↪

Keeps finding new and inventive ways to double back inside the house. He's not going to outright ask you what's up - that would make him look desperate, which he’s totally not. He’s definitely not concerned at all that you didn’t complete your morning ritual and send him out the door with an ‘I love you’. He’s a big boy - this isn’t high school, this is his very mature, very adult relationship.

Excuse number one: “Sorry, forgot my keys,” as he makes a show of dropping his keys out of his pocket, onto the living room floor. His eyes are on you when he reaches to grab them. Leon tosses them in his hand, making as much noise as he possibly can. “All right, love you.”

You hold strong. Still no ‘love you’ back. He’s gone for all of 60 seconds when he comes back with excuse number two: “Ah, damn, forgot my badge. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”

His badge is attached to his belt. You can literally see it. When you point that out to him, he makes a show of being relieved, goes so far as to press a kiss to your temple, and says, “God, what would I do without you? Love ya. Have a good day.”

But you hold strong. Until excuse number three:

“Babe, have you seen my gun?”

You laugh, which only makes him laugh - and then he hits you with ‘no, seriously’ while he leans against the doorway, hip cocked. He’s got you figured out by now, knows that if he can make you laugh then you’re not doing this because you’re mad at him or anything. He can't even be mad when you explain it to him. He can only warn you:

"I'm gonna get you for this. Now, c'mon - say it."

Ada Wong ↪

I don't know why you would do this to her to be honest. She just said ‘I love you’. You should be marking your calendar and turning this into a holiday.

She doesn't say it often, at least not while you're conscious. Whether she presses her sentiments into your hair while you sleep against her, drooling against her collar bone, is up for debate. You have no hard evidence and she'll deny the allegations.

It simultaneously is and is not a big deal. She didn't say it because she craved the validation of having you repeat it to her. She said it because she meant it. There's so few concrete truths about herself that she can share with you, but that was one of them. Does it sting a little not to have it returned? Maybe.

She turns the moment over and over in her head, letting it haunt her. You had given her time, she thinks, why can't she give you yours? But your silence is a specter that tinges every moment. It creeps at the edges of every thought, it–

“Hey, you forgot your coffee.”

She turns to see you in the door of your apartment, hanging from the frame with one hand, her cup extended to her in the other. She clicks back to you in her stilettos, and your press a kiss to her cheek when she claims her drink. The guilt of it all ate at you before you could let her leave your sight. “Love you. Be safe.”

She'd spiraled before she even got down to the parking lot. Total loser in love.

[togeblurbs]

Do You Miss Us?

Five Hargreeves x F!Reader - angst with a happy ending (yeah… happy ish ending)

synopsis: when you find out Five and Lila kissed, you don’t know what to feel. All you know is that you need to get away. Because it was one thing for them to kiss, and another to realize that in the time spent apart, Five Hargreeves may not love you anymore.

content/warnings: hints of anxiety, curse words, cheating, s4 spoilers, mentions of disassociation, morally grey characters, not lore accurate, not really canon, doesn’t focus on the plot moreso reader & fives relationship, lmk if i forgot anything

“Y/n, please,”

you continue walking, wiping away the incessant tears that stream down your face. you feel nauseas, and your chest hurts in a way that it pains you to breathe.

he catches your wrist in his hand, and you turn around, angered. “What? What could you possibly say that would make this better, Five?”

he looks distraught, if not more than you and the thought has your hands shaking in fury. for what reason did he have to be so upset? you weren’t the one who disappeared for a few hours - which ended up being seven years - and then kissed another person.

“I fucked up, I didn’t… You don’t understand, I was losing my mind.” he slips his hand from your wrist to intertwine your fingers, but you shake his grip off in disgust. he looks at you so brokenly at the action, you almost feel bad.

but then you remember her, and you feel the bile rise to your throat once more. “I don’t understand?” you say slowly, taking a step forward.

you point at him, “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. I knew some shit was going on between you two, with your secrets and odd glances. But I trusted you, Five. You know why?”

he looks at you with wide eyes, seeming almost unsettled by your outburst. “Because I loved you.” you whisper.

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you wipe the remnants of your tears. “But that didn’t matter in the end. You were alone with her for seven years, so it makes sense. I wish you nothing but happiness, Five. Even if it’s away from me.”

you turn, moving to walk again, but he crashes into you from behind and wraps his arms around you. “Please,” his hands are trembling where they rest on your stomach, and although you want to soothe him, you don’t think you are in the place to at the moment.

you take a shaky deep breath, before carefully untangling his hands from your torso. he whimpers pitifully at the action, and you have to stop yourself from giving in and drawing him closer.

you used to bring him comfort, give him love and make him feel safe; but it seemed it was not enough; because in the end he chose someone else.

you turn back around, “I need some time alone right now, Five.” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, ripping the skin. you don’t want to look at his face, so you choose to stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

Five lifts his hand for a moment, before dropping it. “Will you come back?” his voice has never sounded so childlike; as though he can’t bear the thought of you leaving and never coming back.

you swallow harshly, “I’ll come back.”

he nods, his own arms wrapping around himself.

“I just don’t know if it will be for you.”

you take a chance and glance at his face, hating the way your heart hurts when his expression crumples.

back in the room, you were so sure he was in love with Lila, but now you’re starting to doubt yourself. because if he truly felt something for her, would he really be crying in front of you right now?

you don’t know. you also don’t feel like you have it in you to make any assumptions.

you turn around, your back facing Five. “I’ll see you later. Don’t follow me.”

and with that, you walk out of Five’s life, unknowingly carrying his heart with you.

-

Five lays in a bed - not his, for years it’s never been his - and recounts the last seven years.

he remembers missing you immensely in the beginning. for the first three years, you were all he could think about.

and then his friendship with Lila began to grow. the time he wished to spend with you, he was now spending with her. it was odd at first, because the two were not close friends of any sort. but when you’re trapped in a different time-line, or different universe, you become allies with those you normally wouldn’t.

somewhere along the way, they had provided one another with the comfort they lacked from their significant others.

it wasn’t supposed to end up that way. it wasn’t.

but now Five can’t get the way you looked at him out of his head; it was like he physically shot you in the chest, or told you he didn’t love you. like he betrayed you.

he grasps at his own chest, curling up into a ball beneath the covers. he feels like he’s going to die.

and maybe that would be for the best. he’s lived a long, torturous life. with a nut-job for a father, siblings that were always thinking about themselves and a lover who he’d ruined everything with, what was the point of life anymore?

its been a month since Five had seen you, and the ache in his chest has yet to go away. he couldn’t find it in himself to eat, often laying in bed as Luther force-fed food down his throat in fear that he would truly pass away.

it’s just another late night, and Five takes the time to stare at the broken glass window as the sun begins to set. the only sound in the room comes from the clock, the constant ticks helping him disassociate and think about you.

he distantly hears the door creak open, but is too exhausted to look at who it is. he doesn’t really care anyway, because he knows it’s not going to be you.

“Five?”

he blinks slowly. it almost sounded like you, but he figured he was hearing things at this point.

“Five,” he feels a hand smooth over his shoulder. gentle in a way he’d only ever experienced with you. his head turns, if only slightly, and he catches sight of your concerned face.

his eyes widen, he forces himself to sit up even if his arms have little to no strength left. “What are you… what are you doing here?” he croaks.

you sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. it’s far too away from Five, he wants to pull you in the bed and bring you into his arms.

“Should I leave?” you glance at the door for a second, but Five immediately grabs onto your hands and shouts, “No! No, please. Please stay.”

you look shocked at his outburst, nodding softly.

the silence in the room is deafening, but Five is merely happy you’re there. Seven years and then some apart from you was not easy, and after his last conversation with you, he knows he’ll feel unsettled until he makes it right. if he can make it right.

“I did some thinking.” you start, cautious.

Five watches you with fear, scared to hear your next words.

“I’m not angry anymore. I understand you went through a lot being trapped again, and I can’t blame you for falling in love with Lila since she was there for you. I do wish you broke it off with me before kissing her, but what’s done is done.”

your voice comes out stable, like you’ve thought it all through and are content to leave things as they are. but Five is shaking his head the moment you say the word love and Lila in the same sentence, because that could not be more far from the truth.

“Wait, please stop it,” he begs, seeming desperate.

“I understand why you might think that way, but I do not love Lila.” he feels lighter with the words being spoken. he’s been aching to clarify this the moment you found out they kissed, but hasn’t had the chance.

your brows furrow, and you pick at the cotton sleeve of your hoodie. “Um, I see.” you look so confused, he can’t help but move closer to you.

you look at him, body rigid. you don’t seem comfortable around him anymore, and the thought has him clutching his chest in pain.

“Y/n, I love you.”

you recoil immediately, and it prompts Five to reach out instinctively.

the words tumble out of his mouth, like he’s scared you’re going to run before he can finish getting everything out. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Lila and I.. when we, you know, it was a moment of weakness after losing you and being trapped again. I wished every day that I could see you, but I was stuck.”

you move to stand, and a part of Five’s heart breaks for what he thinks will be the last time ever. because if you walk out of this room, he knows he won’t be able to love again. you are it for him, and if he doesn’t have you, then he’d rather stay alone for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I need you to know that I love you.”

at the end of his little speech he breathes out, listening to his heart thump loudly in his ears.

it’s odd, he thinks. love has always been so painful, so destructive. but with you it was simple. it was calm, steady and soft. he wonders; he hopes, that he’ll be able to experience it again. after all, a healthy type of love was rare for his kind.

he watches you walk closer, reaching a hand out and placing it on his cheek. he leans into it, closing his eyes as he missed your touch immensely. you use the other hand to push his hair back, planting a kiss on his forehead.

his eyes shoot open at the feeling, and he stares at you in wonder. he begins to feel hope bubble in his chest.

“You love me?” you ask quietly.

he nods, “Only you. Only ever you.”

you exhale, shoulders drooping as you move to sit beside him. you wrap an arm around his waist and one on his neck, pulling him down as you lay on the small bed. his head falls to your neck, and he sneaks a small kiss in, hoping you won’t push him away.

“I can’t promise that i’ll forgive you completely. At least not right now. And I’ll probably hate Lila forever, but I don’t think I can walk away from you knowing you love me.”

you run a hand through his hair, feeling him nod into the space between your head and your shoulder. “I know, I completely understand.”

you pat his head gently, staring up at the ceiling.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t think I ever won’t.”

he rubs his face into your neck, and you feel something wet touch it. you card your fingers through his hair once more, cooing.

“Thank you,” his voice comes out shaky, but he hopes you hear the sincerity.

you shift the two of you until you’re underneath the covers, cradling him in your arms with his head on your chest. “Don’t thank me yet. I will be making out with Diego as revenge.”

Five lifts his head, “What?!”

sorry if this is ooc:>

[gf2bellamy]

Hi i was wondering if you could write a fic where bau!reader is cheering spencer on at his baseball game?

softball — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a guy throwing sort of rude remarks at spence ( just like in the scene ) a/n: i rewatched the scene to write this and omg i forgot how silly it is i love them all so bad theyre literally family ( also i miss blake ) i had so much fun writing this i hope you like it !! <3 ( also i literally know nothing about softball so if anything is wrong i'm vv sorry </3 )

The warm afternoon sun bathed the softball field in golden light. You walked beside the bleachers, your sneakers crunching against the gravel path, with JJ at your side. Her son Henry skipped ahead, his tiny hand clutching hers, his excitement obvious as he pointed at the players warming up on the field.

Ahead, Spencer stood by the chain- link fence, deep in conversation with Derek, who was already dressed in his baseball uniform, adjusting his grip on his glove.

Spencer, in contrast, looked hesitant and nervous.

His eyes darted toward the field, where players were tossing balls and stretching, and you could see the uncertainty written all over his face.

“Hey!” JJ called, drawing their attention. 

Spencer turned, his brows furrowing slightly before his expression shifted into surprise. Practically the entire BAU team was gathered behind you—Hotch, Rossi, Garcia, Alex and even little Jack standing beside Henry. 

“What are you all doing here?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with disbelief. His eyes flickered over each of you.

You stepped forward, grinning up at him as you held out a black cap. “Came to support you, of course.” 

He turned it over in his hands, examining it, before slowly placing it on his head. The cap sat awkwardly over his curls at first, but he adjusted it carefully, pulling it down until it fit snugly.

“There,” you said, tilting your head as you studied him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Now you look the part.”

Spencer huffed out a small, amused breath but didn’t argue. 

Ten minutes later, the game was in full swing. Derek was already at bat, sending the ball flying across the field with a powerful hit. The crowd erupted in cheers as he sprinted toward first base.

You clapped from your seat on the bleachers, sharing an excited glance with JJ. 

You watched as Spencer stepped up to the plate, his movements hesitant as he selected a bat from the rack. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles whitening as he took his position. His stance was awkward, his feet too close together, and he shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Just before the pitcher threw the ball, Spencer turned his head, searching for something—someone. 

His eyes found you. 

You gave him an encouraging look, your lips curving into a soft, reassuring smile as you nodded.

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tightened his grip on the bat. He squared his shoulders as he turned back toward the pitcher.

The opposing player wound up and threw the ball.

Spencer swung—and missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling around the edge of the bleacher.

It was okay. He just needed to get a feel for it. 

The second pitch came. Spencer adjusted his grip, focused his gaze, and swung. 

Missed again. 

The sound of the bat slicing through empty air was met with a few sympathetic murmurs from the crowd.

You exhaled softly through your nose, feeling a twinge of nervousness for him. You could see the frustration creeping into his posture, the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw tightened.

Rossi, stood up from the bleachers as he clapped his hands together. “It’s all right, kid. You got this. Just keep your eye on the ball.” 

Spencer rolled his shoulders before repositioning himself. The third pitch came. He swung—and missed once more. 

A sharp whistle blew, signaling the end of his turn. Spencer sighed, pushing his hair back under the cap as he stepped away from the plate. 

Time passed, and the game continued. The team erupted in cheers when Derek hit a line drive into the outfield, sprinting around the bases with that signature confidence of his.

You clapped along with everyone else, letting out a light laugh when he slid into home base, grinning like he owned the field. 

Your attention drifted back to Spencer. He stood off to the side, a bat in his hand, tossing it lightly into the air as if trying to distract himself.

Except, instead of landing smoothly in his grip, it fumbled and hit the dirt with a dull thud.

You had to bite your cheek to suppress a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him further. He bent down quickly, picking it up like nothing had happened, his cheeks tinged with pink as he went back into position.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. There was something so endearing about Spencer Reid—genius, FBI profiler, and yet utterly out of his element on a softball field.

You stood up from the bleachers, brushing off your jeans as you made your way over to the chain-link fence that separated the stands from the field. Leaning against it, you called out to him, your voice light and teasing.

“Need a hand with that bat, or are you just practicing your juggling skills?”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly as he realized you were watching him. He straightened, brushing a stray curl out of his face as he walked closer to the fence, the bat dangling loosely in his hand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize anyone was paying attention,” he admitted, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” you said with a grin, resting your arms on the top of the fence. “And I have to say, your juggling could use a little work. Maybe stick to profiling for now.”

He let out a small, self-conscious laugh, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “I’m not exactly cut out for this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the field. “I mean, I can calculate the trajectory of a ball in my head, but actually hitting it? That’s a whole different story.”

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “Hey, you’re doing better than you think. It’s just a game, Spencer.”

He glanced over at Derek, who was currently showing off with a series of exaggerated practice swings, much to the amusement of the rest of the team. “Yeah, well, Morgan makes it look easy,” Spencer muttered.

“Derek’s had years of practice,” you pointed out. “You’re just starting. Cut yourself some slack.”

Spencer sighed, leaning against the fence on his side so that you were face to face, only the metal links separating you.

Your heart softened. “You don’t have to be good at everything, Spencer. It'’s okay to just have fun.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes searching yours as if trying to find some kind of reassurance. Finally, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fun, huh? I guess I can try that.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said, reaching through the fence to give his arm a playful nudge. “And hey, if nothing else, you’ve got the best cheering section here. We’re all rooting for you.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and for the first time since the game started, he looked genuinely relaxed. “Thanks,” he said, his voice warm. “That… means a lot.”

Just then, Derek’s voice boomed across the field. “Reid! You’re up again! Stop flirting and get over here!”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and he quickly straightened, adjusting his cap. “I, uh, should probably go,” he said, glancing back at you.

You laughed, waving him off. “Go on. Show them what you’ve got.”

Smiling you went back to your seat. When he stepped up to bat, he glanced over at you one more time, and you gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up, earning a small chuckle from him.

JJ, Penelope, and Alex all exchanged knowing glances. 

When Spencer turned his back to get into position, you caught them looking and furrowed your brows. “What?” 

JJ smirked, leaning in slightly. “Oh, nothing.” 

“Absolutely nothing at all,” Penelope added, eyes twinkling. 

Alex just shook her head, biting back a small, amused smile. 

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth blooming in your chest was undeniable. 

And when Spencer stepped up to bat once more, he stole one last glance at you before squaring his stance. His eyes lingered for just a moment, and you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

But then, from the opposing team’s dugout, someone called out, “This guy can’t hit.”

You frowned, your expression twisting in annoyance.

That was unnecessary.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who noticed. 

Derek, standing near home plate, lifted a hand and called for a time-out. He turned on his heel and strode toward Spencer, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned in to say something. 

You let out a small breath of relief. 

Rossi, seated just below you on the bleachers, leaned back slightly and smirked. “Shoot him another one of your good luck smiles. Maybe he won’t miss this time.” 

Your eyes narrowed, heat creeping up your neck. “Funny,” you muttered, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep yourself composed. 

Rossi chuckled, clearly enjoying himself, and the rest of the team exchanged knowing glances. 

Derek finally walked back to his position, and Spencer turned around once more—his eyes searching for you almost instinctively. You met his gaze, and despite the slight nervousness still lingering in his stance, you smiled at him, giving him an encouraging nod. 

“There you go,” Rossi muttered under his breath, and you shot him a glare, though it held no real heat. 

You ignored him, keeping your eyes on Spencer as he adjusted his grip on the bat, exhaled, and squared his stance once more. 

The pitcher wound up. 

The ball came flying toward him. 

Spencer swung. 

And missed. 

You bit your lip, fingers curling slightly as you watched him adjust.

The second pitch came. 

Another miss. 

You swallowed hard. You could tell he was getting in his own head. 

And then, just as the pitcher lined up for the third throw, that same player from earlier muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, “This guy’s got nothing.” 

Your head snapped toward him, irritation bubbling up in your chest. Oh, shut up, you thought, resisting the urge to march over there yourself. You shot the player a glare, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

Then, the third pitch came. 

For a split second, time seemed to slow. 

Spencer swung— 

Crack! 

The unmistakable sound of the bat making solid contact echoed across the field. 

The ball shot into the air, soaring far past the infield. 

For a second, Spencer just stood there, wide-eyed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. He blinked at the bat in his hands, then at the ball still sailing through the air, as if trying to process what had just happened.

He didn’t move an inch. 

“Spencer, run!” 

Everyone was shouting now—Derek, Rossi, JJ, Penelope,Alex even Hotch. But it was your voice that seemed to snap him out of it. His head jerked in your direction, and when he saw you standing, hands cupped around your mouth as you cheered, something seemed to click. 

He ran. 

Derek was smacking his hands against his knees. “C’mon, kid, move it!” 

Spencer rounded first, then second. The outfielders were still scrambling to recover, and the team’s cheers only grew louder. 

By the time he made it to third, you could see the determination set on his face. His cap had slipped slightly, his curls bouncing with every stride, and his cheeks were flushed from the effort.

“Go, Spencer!” you yelled, clapping wildly. 

The second the opposing team threw the ball toward home plate, Spencer took one final, desperate sprint— 

And then slid. 

It wasn’t the smoothest slide, and judging by the way he grimaced as he skidded across the dirt, it definitely wasn’t something he had ever practiced before. But when the referee threw his arms out and called, “Safe!” the entire BAU team erupted. 

Derek was the first to reach him, pulling Spencer to his feet and clapping him on the back so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of him. “That’s what I’m talking about, kid!” he shouted, his grin wide and proud.

JJ and Penelope were cheering loudly, their voices carrying across the field, while Rossi let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. Even Hotch, who was usually so stoic, was cheering.

But your eyes were on Spencer. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, but there was a look of pure triumph on his face.

His cap was crooked, his shirt was covered in dirt, and his hair was a complete mess, but he looked happier than you’d seen him in a long time.

When his eyes found yours, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. You grinned back at him, giving him a thumbs-up, and he shook his head, laughing softly as he adjusted his cap.

After a few moments, as the team’s cheers began to subside, Spencer finally managed to wiggle free from Derek’s grip, stepping away from the celebratory pit.

His teammates continued to pat him on the back, offering congratulations and words of encouragement, but Spencer’s attention was already drifting.

His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you.

When he finally spotted you, his expression softened, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

You walked up to him, your smile growing wider with every step.

Spencer was still slightly breathless, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline , but all he could focus on was you.

The noise of the cheering team, the occasional slap on his back from his teammates—it all faded into the background the moment your arms wrapped around his neck. 

His fingers instinctively tightened around your waist, his grip warm.

“You did great,” you said, your voice full of excitement, as you pulled back slightly, your smile so wide it felt like it could light up the entire field. 

Spencer’s lips parted slightly, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. You were so close.

He could see the way your cheeks were slightly flushed—whether from the excitement of the game or something else, he wasn’t sure. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah.” 

His heart stuttered at the confirmation, at the way you were looking at him like he had genuinely impressed you.

It wasn’t often that Spencer Reid felt cool, but right now, standing here with you, he kind of did. 

The way you were looking at him, your arms still loosely draped around his neck, made him feel like he’d just accomplished something extraordinary—even if it was just a lucky hit in a casual softball game.

“See, pretty boy? Told you you had it in you,” Derek called, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past, effectively snapping Spencer out of his daze. 

You giggled, finally stepping back, though Spencer hesitated before letting you go.

Garcia practically skipped over, phone in hand. “Oh, don’t mind me, just capturing all these adorable moments,” she teased, wiggling her fingers at her screen. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth creeping up your neck. “Garcia…” 

“What? This is gold,” she argued, waving her phone. “The genius hits a home run, and his biggest fan is the first one to congratulate him? I live for this.” 

Spencer, still trying to recover from all of this, rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning.

You reached up, gently adjusting his cap.

Your fingers brushed against his forehead, and for a moment, Spencer froze, his breath catching as he looked down at you.

“There,” you said softly, smoothing the brim of the cap. “Now you look like a proper MVP.”

Spencer’s lips parted, but no words came out. He just stared at you, his mind racing as he tried to process the way your touch made him feel.

Rossi, who had been watching from the bleachers with an amused smirk, leaned toward Hotch and muttered, “I give it two months.”

Hotch merely sighed, shaking his head. “They’ll be the last to realize it.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idk if your requests are open, but if they are, can you do batboys when the reader has a flu or something like that??🙏

My requests are open! But I would some fun, fluff stuff as I’ve been going through some personal stuff that have been affecting my focus and other things, leaving me a little more less then eager to do much of anything really. I’ll try to keep writing but i can only guarantee so much.

Dick is probably patting your back with a broom from another room

kidding! Dick would be very attentive and sweet when you have the flu as he would have everything you need in bulk and smother you beneath several thick blankets, tightly tucked and everything to the point you couldn’t even move a pinky, much to his amusement.

Hayley also acts as a massive help in your recovery or should we say nurse Hayley as dick would have the poor dog dress up for the bit…only for Hayley to grow bored and take her outfit off, all the while Dick becomes dramatic at how his loyal nurse has just up and quit on the job because she wasn’t get any treat treats for her service.

It was high entertainment for you as you’d watch Hayley come back into the room and tuck herself next to you on the bed, whining for your attention as she exposes her belly towards you, and who were you to ignore the cutie? You give her the belly rubs she deserves for putting up with Dick and his antics.

Other then giving you what you wanted (Hayley) dick would make sure to take care of you, going so far as to even tell you a story of his brothers to help you sleep if you couldn’t find it within yourself to do so. Dick is more than happy to risk getting sick just to cuddle you and give you a plethora of kisses, why? Apparently he couldn’t help but give you affection when you looked like a wet puppy. So when you tell him that he shouldn’t be surprised when he becomes sick himself, he only laughs and says that his immune system was good enough to prevent himself from getting sick easily, however he does indeed get sick the next day and acts surprised by it too.

‘I told you not to cuddle me, you’d get sick.’ You tell him through chuckles.

‘And leave you without knowing my love? No way, if anything it was worth the risk.’ He replies as he smiles at you before covering his mouth to cough, making you sigh sympathetically. ‘You’ll be okay.’ You reassured him as you rubbed his back soothingly, ‘I’ll even bring nurse Hayley to help bring you back to full health.’ You add.

Damian is far more stern with you when you get ill. There’s no excuses when it comes to avoiding your medication because Damian will find a way to slip the medicine into your system regardless. Seriously he’ll sneak it into your food when you’re not looking for he didn’t want your stubbornness towards the weird tasting medicine to hinder your recovery process, finding this seemingly childish reaction of yours rather ridiculous.

He often ponders whether you wanted to get better or not with how often you seemed to rebuke the medicine he gave, but he was only doing this for your own good and that was a good enough drive for him to taking care of you to full health once more.

Yet while he might have some grievances of taking care of you, he didn’t mind the idea of being your caretaker as it meant getting to be soft with you, as if he wasn’t already but the fact that you were sick only made Damian treat you more like porcelain. He would even have Titus, Ace and Alfred the cat to keep you company when he knew you were feeling a little down from time to time just to see you smile again when the dogs licked your face, whereas Alfred would be purring contently in your lap.

He knew being sick was your idea and he would always remind you that he wasn’t upset at you for it, but he just hopes that this acts as a lesson to be more carful in the future, all the while coming up with some drawing activities with you to pass the time; which ends up being a ton of fun and an absolute laugh when you see Damian genuinely try to be bad a drawing but only for it to come out better then most of the things you produced.

Jason is another one who’s rather strict about taking care of you, much like how he would be rather straightforward and blunt when you needed to eat, Jason wouldn’t let you move a single finger when you were found to be sick with the flu.

Wear all the hoodies of his that you can get your hands on, he doesn’t mind as long as it would keep you warm and comfortable, because until the day you were better he was going to wait on you hand and foot by giving you the needed medication or brining in food and water throughout the day.

Jason didn’t care what he had to do because as long as he could take care of you to the best of his abilities then that was more then enough for him, he’d even take some time away from patrol as he didn’t feel comfortable leaving you within your shared home when you were in a vulnerable state.

Thankfully Gotham wasn’t in as much need for him when his brothers Dick, Tim, Duke and Damian were overseeing the city in his absence, it helped take his mind off of that aspect while he was taking care of you by frequently checking your body temperature or make you soup, and or being there to comfort you should you feel the need to empty your stomach. Jason could fully bring his attention to you like he should and you needn’t worry about waking him up early in the morning, or even late at night because Jason was more then willing to get whatever it was you needed without compliant.

[azsazz]

Destination Unknown (Part 2)

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Reqs: destination-unknown I still cannot let this one go, the best thing I’ve ever read on this app 😭 I wish he would choose us in another part // Writing this to notify you about the urgent need for pt2 of the following Rhys fics: waiting for the creation of Destination unknown

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1967

(Part 1)

Notes: It's been over 2 years since part 1 😅 If any of the OG's are here, you're troopers! ily 💙 breaking my own heart with this one too

_________________________________________

“The girl that saved us. She’s my mate.” The words rattle in your head again and again and a-godsdamned-gain.

The crinkle of the paper in your hands draws your attention to the present. You sigh, dropping the paper to the familiar deep cherry desk. The one that you’ve been sitting at for the last fifty years while the man you loved was trapped by a vicious witch under the mountain.

This place—Rhysand’s office within the House of Wind—had once been your place of solace. Your beacon of hope. You and the High Lord of the Night Court had spent a healthy amount of time in this room of the house, first as his second in command, and then as his lover. It had been one of the places you swore you could still feel him when he was prisoner beneath her reign.

You had taken over like any second would, made sure that Velaris stayed hidden and safe. There weren’t many executive decisions to be made in the last fifty years, menial things like the agreement to build a new wing of the Rainbow, making sure that the city could still deal and trade without being snuffed out.

Now, this office serves as a reminder. A reminder of what you lost. The male that you gave your heart to, the same one who’d survived the horrors of Amarantha’s reign, made it back to the Night Court safely, with another woman’s name on his lips.

Feyre, he’d admitted, violet eyes wide and haunted with not only the horrors he so desperately tried to lock away, but with shock and surprise. He found his mate, the voice in your head rings again.

As much as it tears your heart to shreds, Rhysand deserves nothing more. You’ve always had an inkling that you weren’t his mate. He’d occasionally make offhanded comments about dreams he had, visions, he’d sometimes call them. Listening to the horrors he’d been through, surrounded by the rest of his Inner Circle, those sights had made sense.

It’s been two weeks since Rhysand has been back. Recovering. Mor had taken it upon herself as caregiver to her cousin. Cassian and Azriel visited the High Lord in his wing of the house often. Amren, too. The side you couldn’t bring yourself to pay visit to.

He’s asked for you. You can’t count the number of times Mor has barged into this very office—the one you rarely leave these days—and demanded that you come see him. That you’re hurting him worse by staying away. Now that Rhysand is back, that Amarantha is gone for good and the city no longer has to hide, there are things to do, cities to check in on, damage that needs to be assessed, and courts that need correspondence.

It's given you an escape. You can’t muster up the confidence to go visit Rhysand just as he can’t do the same to visit you. You’re terrified of what he’ll say, the very thing you’ve been trying to wrap your head around since the night of his return. To accept the inevitable.

That he’s no longer yours.

You smooth the wrinkled paper out on the desk, trying to refocus. It’s late. A gentle breeze sweeps in through the balcony doors, a chill that skitters down your back. The stars and moon shine brightly in the sky, and for a moment, you envy their light, their happiness. It seems that they’re even brighter since the return of the High Lord.

You can’t help that your mind wanders. To her. You wonder what she looks like, how she acts. She must be confident, strong-willed. She must be beautiful. You hope more than anything that she’s kind. She must be, for a human to give her life to save the Fae, the same ones that have abandoned the human-realm for their own selfish reasons.

In a way, it makes sense. Of course, the female who could take down someone as powerful as Amarantha would be Rhys’ mate.

There’s a soft knock on the study room door. One that makes you freeze. It’s not Mor, because she wouldn’t have knocked, she would have stormed into the room, he bouncy, blonde hair swishing behind her shoulders and a fire in her eyes. The both of you have leaned on each other for fifty years, you consider her one of your closest friends. But not even she could convince you to see Rhysand.

You’ve tried, too. Tried to make it to that side of the house, to where, admittedly, you’d slept in his bed the entirety of his time away. When you could sleep, that is. Surrounded by the night-chilled scent of him, lingering on the pillows.

The abrupt change from not sleeping there at all has been taxing.

You stand when the door cracks, busy yourself with the papers scattered around the desk. They’re organized perfectly, but you leaf through them again. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not even when he enters the room fully and the doors snicks behind him.

Your name is a mummer. Relief? Maybe. Sorrow. Yes. The. Sound makes your throat tighten. You never thought you’d hear your name on his lips again.

The papers in your hands crinkle again.

You don’t know what to say. Your throat is clogged with emotion and your heartbeat is a racing mess. Your knees are seconds from giving out. Your fingers are trembling. You’re not ready for this, not ready to face him again.

You can feel those violet eyes on you like you have a thousand times before. Can feel the way he’s drinking you in. Or maybe he’s comparing you to how you looked the night he left, the same disheveled hair but for a much different reason. You’re sure you look worse with the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders sag like there’s a hundred pounds draped across them.

Suddenly, you feel underdressed. You should have cleaned up your appearance, taken a shower, ran a brush through your hair.

Tears sting your eyes when your sabotaging mind tells you that it no longer matters.

You stack the papers together and tap them on the desk. “I’ve kept everything as much of the same as I could.” It’s difficult to admit, but talking about what’s been going on in the City of Starlight is a safe topic. Surely, he will want to know, will want to visit soon, show that he’s still the strong and in charge High Lord he was. “You’ll read about it in my reports.”

You say it like you’re ready to resign your position. You’d hate it if you could no longer help the city that you’ve loved and spent the last fifty years managing. Your heart breaks a little in your chest.

You’ve spent every moment since Rhysand’s come home writing the report. Spent every day of the last fifty years writing it, to be honest. In case there was a day that he’d come back. You haven’t left out a single detail.

The past two weeks have been spent refining it, removing some of the more inappropriate stories and comments now that he’s found his other half.

He says your name again, louder this time. You can hear the hurt in his tone, but he doesn’t move closer.

You continue to brush him off. Your head is spinning and you can barely breathe. You don’t know what to do. It feels as if the two of you are strangers. “Now that you’re back, I need to check on all of the other cities and camps within the Court,” your voice is tired. You don’t know what to think. He’s back, and he has a mate. Someone he’s destined to fall in love with. It hurts. “I’ve sent missives. I’m headed out in the morning.”

“Please,” he begs, and the emotion in his voice gives you pause. Makes your heart break. You know it isn’t easy, to be so vulnerable after having to be so strong for half a century. Tears sting your eyes. The tips of Rhysand’s shoes enter your line of vision. “Please, look at me.”

You shake your head and swallow thickly. If you look at him, see the devastation in his eyes, worse, the hope for his mate, it will destroy you. You know it will.

“Autumn has written, too,” you continue, but your voice trembles so much you’re not sure you can continue. You can gallivant all around the continent, but it won’t change the fact that the male you love is back, and has a mate. Eventually, you’ll come home, and when you do, maybe she’ll be here, maybe they’ll be joyous and in love and— “They’re asking for resources, to help rebuild.”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. An unknown force drives him around the edge of the desk, and before you know it the papers in your hands are hitting the wood and you’re facing him, your chin tilting up by his gentle hands.

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes and you clamp them shut before they latch onto those violet pools you know so well. You don’t want to see the heartbreak in them. You don’t want to see the remorse. You can’t. You’re not ready to give him up, because he’s all that. You’ve ever loved and—

“Please,” he says brokenly, so helplessly that you can’t help yourself.

You peek open your eyes.

And Rhysand looks utterly crushed.

His own eyes are filled with tears. Fingers trembling as his thumbs stroke your cheeks, catching the unstoppable rivers.

He looks almost exactly like he had the night he left. Older, somehow. His violet eyes aren’t lit with excitement and arousal, but burnt out with the horrors of what he’s been through. You can’t even imagine what happened to him in those fifty years, but you know Rhysand well enough to know that he would have done anything to protect his people, to help in any way that he could.

There are no words to be exchanged. You and him have always been like this, on the same page. You know exactly what he’s thinking, and you know exactly what he is.

You sob into him as he presses his mouth against yours. You cling to his arms, digging your nails into his skin. It’s a desperate kiss, too harsh and your teeth clack together in a disjointed plea. It feels nothing like you know. It feels final.

Like this is the last taste of him you’re ever going to get.

“Darling,” his voice breaks when you part. In this moment, you know. That this is all real. Rhysand is back. He’s back and he has a mate.

“I know Rhys,” your words are a wet whisper, and the smile that you try to force onto your face wobbles and falls. You clutch his arms tightly. You don’t want to let go but you know that you have to. “I know.”

[iateyourparents]

hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple

deaf, mute and blind | j.g.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader

summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)

an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!

pictures are from pinterest :)

“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.

“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.

“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”

“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.

“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”

You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.

“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”

You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.

“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.

“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.

Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.

“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.

“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.

When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.

She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.

You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.

You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.

You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.

Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.

“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.

Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.

“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.

“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.

Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.

When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.

Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.

“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.

You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.

When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.

Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.

You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.

You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.

“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.

Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.

“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.

You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.

Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.

Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.

“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.

Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.

“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.

“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.

“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.

“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.

“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”

“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”

You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.

“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.

“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.

[luveline]

hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 

You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 

It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  

“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 

“Really?” 

“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 

“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 

“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 

“Can I speak to her?” 

You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 

“Lay back,” he says. 

Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 

You laugh. He peeks up at you. 

“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 

“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 

“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 

“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 

The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 

“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 

You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 

“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to your sister.” 

Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 

“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 

Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 

“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 

“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 

“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 

He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 

Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 

“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 

You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 

Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 

“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 

���Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 

Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 

[earlysunshines]

fright night

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: in which your university’s halloween festival leads to you and minji beating around the bush — finally.

warnings: making out. like the best makeout scene i've written in a bit i think. ohmygdoajsdf ; minji is a loooooser but we all know this ; pining ; dumb gay women ; FLIRTING. they want each other SO BAD i was giggling writing this im ngl ; SO cute i loved writing this ohmygod ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: lately i’ve been going insane bc of minji like she’s just so gf… so… she’s so… i need her

kim minji is an idiot, she’s literally the dumbest person you know.

well, academically she’s actually a genius, but she’s clumsy and clueless nine times out of ten. unfortunately yet fortunately(?) for her, this is only more of the reason for you to be completely in love with her.

which is why your roommate is dealing with another one of your little attempts to deny your feelings again.

“i think i should just die.” you groan into yunjin’s bed. she watches you, your body lifeless after you roll over to face the ceiling. “everything was just normal.”

“‘just’ as in… a month ago…?” your roommate snickers, folding a t-shirt and placing it next to your torso. “i think you’re the only person i know who doesn’t enjoy being in love.”

yes: you’re in love with kim minji.

no: you do not enjoy being in love with her at all.

it’s not that she’s an asshole, it’s just the fact that everyone is also in love with her. she quite literally has a line of girls (and men, but none of them stand a chance) waiting for her. she’s kim minji, one of your mutual friends who happens to be the captain of the university’s soccer team—which is why the clumsy aspect of her is often overlooked. so to most, she’s just hot, but she’s more to you, much more.

and you? you’re just trying to get by. you’re not in the spotlight, you haven’t gotten hit on in months — you and minji are two worlds apart.

“this is a waste of time. she only sees me as a friend, she’s cute and athletic. compared to her the most astonishing thing i can do is make a t-shirt and wide-legged jeans to sell on depop.”

“you should make a t-shirt that says ‘kim minji i want you so bad please marry me—“

yunjin is cut off when her just-folded shirt is thrown right at her face. she groans and throws it right back at you.

“i hope you get the same fate as a side character in a horror film.” you groan, sitting up and glaring at her.

“aw, thanks.” she says dryly, rolling her eyes. “hey, speaking of horror… the halloween festival is soon. are you going?”

“i fear.” you sigh, shoulders sinking a bit.

your partner in crime outside of your dorm, danielle, had convinced you with a look filled with sparkly eyes and a sweet smile to help out with face painting. there would be a variety of people passing by and you were notoriously known for being able to draw really well despite being a fashion major. “art is art,” danielle had shrugged, and so she bribed you with some coffee to really commit to it.

“danielle got me to do the face painting stall.”

yunjin’s eyes widen as she sets down a sweater. “did she?”

“yeah. i’m the only one within the circle – other than hanni – who can draw more than a stick figure.”

“you’ve got that right.” yunjin snickers. “you think your wife will be there?”

“minji?” you tilt your head, to which yunjin responds with a raised brow. she got you there. “oh, um. maybe? why?”

“don’t act all unbothered now.” your roommate scoots you over so she can pick up a pile and stack them somewhere else. “if she’s also doing something for the event, i see it as an opportunity.”

“why would i willingly do that to myself? im going to look desperate.”

“minji is an idiot, we both know that. why would it matter? i think she’d be flattered to have you there. hasn’t she literally taken you home like… three times? girl, stop overthinking.” yunjin scoffs. “plus, you never look desperate. you’re a little too good at acting like you don’t care. don’t you think you’re driving her away? it’s like, you’re so normal and even distant in real life, i don’t want to say nonchalant because it’ll boost your ego, but unfortunately, that’s what you are.”

“you—“ yunjin raises both brows as you start to speak.

“she probably wants you too. i’ve noticed you guys talking more — don’t think i don’t notice you guys next to each other in between classes, even if it’s with your circle. kazuha asked if you were dating actually.”

“really?”

yunjin giggles, turning away from her closer and back at you. she stands right in front of you, towering over and looking into your eyes scarily.

“you want that girl so bad.”

“i can’t.”

“no, no. listen to me, you’re going to take this halloween thing as an advantage to make a move and also look hot. i don’t know how many more complaints about you being a bomosexual i can take.”

“i hate you.”

“okay then pay full rent.”

“i love you?”

yunjin laughs, picking up another pile of clothes and putting it away.

—

hanni is the one to text you out of nowhere the day after, something about “minji wanted you to eat with us, but heeseung is at the cafe.” 

you squint at the message. you had just reached your class, and now you’re being invited over to grab a bite with the girl you want so bad while the guy who wants you so bad is in the same area. there is no way you should be saying yes, you can’t. one: you need to get over minji. she’s out of reach, a mere dream. two: heeseung will be checking you out the whole time and might throw in a compliment or two. 

“i’ll be there in five.” you respond, sighing and pinching the bridge of your nose.

…

the café seems a little busy, but that’s not surprising considering it’s around lunchtime and the cafe is not too far from the university. the second you step in, your eyes find minji across the room. she’s mid-laugh with hanni, but the moment she spots you, her smile stretches wider, something bright and giddy in her gaze. it’s that soft, familiar look she gets sometimes—too open, too much—but you’re just as bad, trying not to look like you’re seconds away from smiling like an idiot as you walk up.

“hey, you,” she greets, her voice warm as she sidles closer, her shoulder bumping yours as you both look over the menu.

“hey loser,” you reply, nudging her back a little harder, a playful rhythm forming between you. she pushes back with a smile, and you retaliate, each shove barely more than an excuse to keep lingering in that small space between you two. she laughs, cheeks a little flushed, and you can’t help but feel like coming over was the better decision.

you order first, dismissing minji’s offer to pay for your lunch. she frowns but nonetheless lets you order first. you order a sundried tomato and mozzarella panini, stepping to the side after and glancing at minji, who’s still staring at the menu.

hanni and danielle have already ordered, so you wait near the counter for minji so the two of you can meet up with the rest together. 

much to your dismay, heeseung’s voice breaks through your little bubble. he steps closer, leaning against the counter a little too casually. “so, do you always come here, or did you just need an excuse?” his smile is easy, maybe a little too practiced, and his gaze lingers as he looks you up and down, more intense than friendly. 

you try not to visibly cringe, offering him a polite smile. “not really—just here with friends today,” you say, keeping your tone light but cool. but he doesn’t quite take the hint, his eyes not quite leaving yours. he definitely thinks there’s something in the air, something other than his cologne that is way too strong for your liking.

“you look cute.”

“oh um, thanks?” you purse you lips into a forced smile, watching him smirk confidently. 

“what are your plans after this? got class?”

before you can think of another way to steer the conversation away, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you close, and you look over to find minji at your side. her smile is wide and a little mischievous, and there’s a hint of something defiant in her gaze as she looks right past heeseung, keeping her hand snug on your hip.

“oh, y/n!” she says brightly, voice layered with just enough enthusiasm to sound like a joke but there’s an edge that makes it feel like more. “i remembered something so funny, it’s about yunjin. you know, during practice she got hit in the head.”

she doesn’t even look at heeseung as she tugs you back toward your group, keeping her arm around you a beat longer than necessary. heeseung’s face twists slightly, frustration crossing his features, but minji doesn’t give him a second glance. she launches into a conversation about her classes, her hand slipping away from your waist as she nudges you with her shoulder once more, an unmistakable grin still tugging at her lips.

you two get the chance to converse with danielle and hanni, who are more than happy to have you there. you can feel heeseung and his group eyeing you from a mile away, but that doesn’t matter because minji is in front of you and keeping eye contact the whole time you complain about him.

both your order and minji’s are called out at the same time and for a second, it’s just the two of you again as you both walk up to the counter. her voice and her closeness are enough to erase the last few awkward moments.

 “you looked like you were having fun back there,” she murmurs, half-laughing, and you can tell by the gleam in her eyes that she noticed everything. 

you laugh, trying to shrug it off. “couldn’t have done it without you,” you say, brushing her shoulder with yours. she looks down, almost bashfully, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks as she smiles—a smile that lingers long after heeseung fades into the background once again and you two rejoin the others.

…

before you make an excuse to leave, although it’s not really an excuse more than a complaint about your professor assigning a grueling reading, you hug everyone. when it’s you and minji, you two hold onto each other for a split second longer than social norms until she pulls away. minji smells like flowers and vanilla – you could drown in her scent.

“are you going to the halloween festival this weekend?”

“oh, yeah. danielle is forcing me to volunteer.”

“that’s funny,” minji chuckles, “because hanni is forcing me too.”

“is that so?”

“uh huh, pumpkin carving moderator or something.” she says, biting the inside of your lip. “we should um, do you wanna walk around after? maybe drop your shift early and i’ll do the same.”

you grin, pushing minji’s shoulder with two fingers playfully.

“couldn’t find any other girl lined up for you to hangout with?”

“what other girls?” minji asks, genuinely confused. 

you’re being an idiot. yunjin would so punch you in the face right now, so you come to your senses.

“i– nevermind. i’ll see you around.”

minji waves. “bye.”

…

after you leave, minji settles into her seat beside hanni and danielle, trying to keep her expression neutral. she fails, the smile on her face noticeably smaller and her eyes a little more dim. her friends have known her too long; hanni catches on first, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.

“you look like a disappointed puppy,” hanni says, nudging minji with a grin.

“what? no,” minji replies, clearly flustered. “what are you saying bro.”

“you were practically glowing when y/n walked in,” hanni teases, leaning in. “and then suddenly turned into a sad little puddle when she left. you want her soooo bad.”

minji’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, and she tries to laugh it off, glancing at danielle as if for backup. but danielle’s watching her too, a gentle, encouraging look on her face.

“it’s okay, minji,” danielle says softly. “it’s… pretty obvious, you know? you like y/n a lot.”

minji rolls her eyes, looking away. “maybe i do. but it doesn’t matter. y/n’s just… she’s too… normal, you know? she’s always so unbothered, so unfazed by anything. she probably doesn’t even want me. i’m always chasing her.”

danielle shakes her head, a knowing smile touching her lips. “i wouldn’t be so sure, minji. just because y/n’s good at hiding her feelings doesn’t mean she doesn’t have them.” she places a reassuring hand on minji’s arm. “trust me, i think there’s more there than you realize.”

minji lets out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to her hands. “it’s just… sometimes it feels like i’m the only one who’s feeling this way, you know? like i’m the only one getting flustered or waiting for her to look at me like… like i don’t know, she see’s me as a good friend.”

hanni wraps an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “please. y/n’s about as subtle as you when you’re around. i don’t know how you don’t see it.”

danielle laughs softly, nodding. “give it time, minji. y/n might just need a little nudge, and besides…” she pauses, glancing around conspiratorially before leaning in. “if y/n didn’t feel something, you wouldn’t have caught her staring at you like that when she thought no one was watching. plus, the whole nudging your shoulders the whole time. you two are like fucking thirteen year olds in love, it’s kind of gross.”

minji looks up, hope flickering in her eyes as a faint, shy smile tugs at her lips. maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t imagining it.

—

“im literally going to kill myself.” is the first thing yunjin hears when you get home, followed by you dropping your bag and crashing against her on your couch.

“girl what happened?”

“kim fucking minji. she’s insane, she wants me to die, i can’t do this, i resign from being a lesbian can i please resign.”

“well!” yunjin laughs, pulling you in. you lean on her shoulder and cover your face with your hands. “do you want to tell me what happened?”

through your hands, your voice is muffled as you explain, “basically hanni invited me to grab lunch with her and dani and minji. she looked so cute and like, we kept bumping shoulders and she kept smiling when she did it and then i ordered and—”

“you’re rambling–”

“and then i waited for my order while she ordered and heeseung started flirting with me,”

“ew, heeseung?”

“the bane of my existence— yes. i told him i was a lesbian at least three times! oh my god, anyway that doesn’t even matter, i don’t even care because—yunjin. huh yunjin.”

yunjin blinks at you as you stand up, pacing back and forth on the carpet now. she can’t help but laugh at you when you stop in front of her and groan, “jennifer huh.”

“wow, this must be serious.”

“minji fucking grabbed me by the waist like some wattpad story and then kinda shooed heeseung away and yunjin her hands are so nice and they were on my waist and i want her so bad. yeah. i’m gonna just die.”

yunjin pulls you by the wrist so you’re back next to her. she looks at you with a raised brow, waiting for you to recover from your high (if that counts as a high, but maybe you’re just insane). 

“she wants you.”

“she’s playing with me.”

“you’re insane. you know hanni asked if me if you like minji earlier, right? talking about how minji looked so devastated after you left.”

“what?”

“oh my god. you know what, i’m done with you. you’re such an idiot that it’s pissing me off.”

you whine, pulling yunjin by her forearm and pulling her back, which earns a scoff. yunjin looks at your little pout and puppy eyes, but doesn’t give in. instead, she pushes you off, leaving you to deal with the events of the day on your own.

before she disappears into her room, she sighs, “you’re gay and useless.”

you sink into the couch a little more. “thanks.” 

—

the weekend comes by all too fast. even with your time consuming assignments, it feels like you’ve blinked and now you have to deal with the whole festival.

you’re in a snug white cropped baby tee that shows a decent amount of your abdomen, your hair is styled just a bit, and the makeup on your face is a little more glittery and highlighted than usual. on your back there’s angel wings that complete the look. 

(“she’s going to want you so bad, trust me.” yunjin assures as she does your eye makeup.

it’s nothing much, just some darker warm tones with a faint hint of purple and highlighter to make you really look like an angel.

“and…” yunjin adds a bit of highlighter to your cheekbones. she pulls away and gazes at her work, bringing her pointer to her lips and biting on it jokingly. “heyyy gorgeous.”

“shut up.”

“minji’s going to want you so bad.”

“shut. up.”)

yunjin drives the two of you to the festival, she also looks really good. while you’re an angel, she’s a devil, showing off her toned body from soccer so she can pick up some girls that night.

(“you’re such a hoe.” you groan, doing her makeup to make her eyes smoky and lips plump. 

she rolls her eyes while putting on her little horns in her hair, checking herself out in the mirror. 

“how do i look?”

“like a hoe.” you assure firmly, earning a shove. then, you slide a finger down her collarbone teasingly, winking at her. “a really hot one.”

your roommate chuckles. “save that for minji, y/n.”

“i hate you.”)

the halloween festival is lively, lights flickering under dark skies, and you slip through the crowd in your angel costume with yunjin. you’re not even sure if anyone’s noticed your costume details, but the reactions make it clear you look… well, good. or maybe that’s just yunjin who’s doing the attracting, but a man winks directly at you and you have to force back a look of disgust.

as you make your way to the face-painting stall, you catch sight of minji leaning against a booth, dressed as patrick bateman. she’s really hot, that’s for sure, and it’s nothing new. the loose, slightly unbuttoned dress shirt shows her collarbone, and you can’t help but think about how your lips would feel on them. the loosened tie around her neck makes her look really good; you feel like she’s pulling you in without trying. despite the purposeful tousled look, she looks effortlessly put-together, but the smudge of fake blood on her cheek adds a wild edge (and makes her look even hotter). 

her eyes land on you, and her expression shifts just slightly before she pushes off the booth, walking over with a slight smirk.

“wow,” she says, looking you up and down in a way that feels way too intense. “you’re really… pulling off that angel look. you look really good, y/n.”

you giggle, trying to play it cool. “you look pretty good yourself,” you reply, letting your gaze drift over her from the blood on her cheek to the undone buttons of her shirt. “i didn’t know patrick bateman could look this… hot.”

a faint flush creeps onto her cheeks, and she lets out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah, well, didn’t know ‘angelic’ could look so irresistible,” she teases, but her voice softens as her eyes linger on you.

for a beat, the two of you just stand there, the energy between you charged. you’re painfully aware of the way she’s looking at you—like she’s holding back from saying or doing something, thouh—and you can’t stop yourself from mirroring that, a hint of want in your gaze. she clears her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“well, i better get to moderating— i don’t want people accidentally slicing themselves instead of a pumpkin.” she murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but not before giving you one last once-over, her eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. she brings her hand to your hair, using a finger to push away some of the strands framing your face. you gulp a bit, then again after she brushes her knuckles against your cheek. “i like this. the makeup.”

i like you. you fight back the confession.

“thanks.” you swallow, nodding. “well, i should,” you start, playing with her tie out of a burst of confidence. you tug on it just a little, catching her by surprise. her breath hitches just barely. “--get going. i’ll see you.” you say, dropping the piece of fabric in your hand. 

as you head toward your booth, the thrill from your brief encounter with minji lingers, leaving you more than a little distracted and hoping she feels it too.

…

you’ve painted more faces than you can count on one hand in only an hour, much to your surprise. if you were to do this full time you’d for sure develop arthritis the second week on the job. 

after your tenth person — some kid who just wanted two flowers on her cheeks — danielle taps your shoulder. you turn around, humming in response.

“you look beat,” she says.

your shoulders are drooping, your posture is much worse than when you started, and you’re moving your wrist in a every angle to stretch it out and relieve the soreness. 

“you think?”

“hanni says she’ll be over in a bit.” danielle assures, patting you on the back and massaging your back lightly. “the stall will close soon so we can all hangout after.”

“thank god. are the other activities closed?”

“not until before midnight – i think.” you sigh in relief, but danielle adds, “could you grab some stuff from the supply closet though? maybe some more white, blue, and red paint? maybe grab yellow and green too.”

she gives you those eyes again, earning a chuckle. “yeah, yeah. okay.”

“great! just go down and turn right, there’s a brown shed — it’s not creepy, i swear. it’s kind of modern actually.”

“something tells me you’re lying.”

“me? lying?” 

you roll your eyes and stand up, then you trudge on over down the gravel. you roll your shoulders back and massage your neck a bit, then fix your costume a bit. it’s funny; you’re at a whole festival and this is the only time you’re exposed to the groups of people, bright lights, and excitement all around — at least for longer than a minute.

turning the corner you reach a shed, one that matches danielle’s description. 

danielle isn’t a liar, she never lies — well, she never lies about anything serious. it’s quite modern inside, seemingly new due to the fresh paint smell. it’s lined with wooden shelves, each holding different items. the corners are filled with various decorations, ranging from not only halloween decor but also christmas and even valentines day themed trinkets. you laugh at the little cupid poster in the back, but recollect yourself and focus on the “task” at hand.

you have to rummage through the costumes in the corner to find a small box with face paint in it. the light in the shed isn’t on (there isn’t a switch, only some rustic-type light hanging from above in the middle of the building), so you use your flashlight to help you see clearer. 

it takes a bit more time to find the yellow bottle of paint, which is in your hand until you drop it from the sound of the door opening so suddenly.

you jump, gasping ever so lightly before turning around to see a very striking patrick bateman.

minji stands in the doorway, still looking as good as before, looking at you with a perplexed expression.

“what are you doing here?” she asks, looking around the area.

“minji,” you close your eyes, “you scared the shit out of me!”

“i’m sorry…” she says, jutting out her bottom lip and suddenly every ounce of fear is drained from your body. “i didn’t know you were in here.”

“danielle sent me to get more paint.”

“that's funny,” minji steps towards you, looking at the two paint bottles on the floor. “hanni sent me to grab trash bags.”

you don’t respond for a second because minji steps under the antique light above her. it illuminates her face in the best way possible, highlighting the smeared on fake blood and her features. you feel your throat tightening as you stare.

minji’s gaze softens, she steps closer.

“do you know where i could find trash—”

“yes, um, yeah, probably in the corner.” you choke out.

she chuckles, you swallow lightly. 

you take the stretch of silence to pick up the two bottles that had dropped out your hand and turn the flash on your phone off. you fix your tank top because minji is still within radius, but she’s busy looking for the trash bags, still.

“i’ll see you later?” you say softly. minji’s head whips around, and there’s a slight frown on her face. before she can respond, you hear a click coming from the door, then stare at the handle with furrowed brows. you reach over to twist the knob, but it barely budges. “what the hell?”

“what?”

“i think it’s locked. did you lock it?”

she shakes her head, her brow furrowing as she steps over, nudging you aside to try the handle herself. she pulls, twisting the knob a little harder than you did, but the door still doesn’t move an inch. 

“it’s locked.” she mutters, glancing at you with a hint of worry. “i think we’re stuck.”

you both stare at each other for a beat, the realization sinking in, and suddenly the small shed feels much smaller. you look away first, sighing before turning on your phone.

“i’ll call danielle.” you say, voice steady, though there’s a slight tremor as you dial.

“i’ll try hanni.”

you both dial. danielle doesn’t answer and you huff. you wait for minji, her phone against her ear, and the defeated groan is enough to tell you whether hanni answered or not.

“i guess they’re busy.” minji says, slipping her phone back into her pocket. 

for a moment, silence stretches between you both again, an awkward tension settling in. minji shifts, making a weird noise as she brushes dust off her shirt. you can’t help but find it cute. then she adjusts her loose collar, making you clear your throat and glancing around for any other possible way out; there’s none.

the only thing you catch is a window, a window that’s far too small and high for anything to happen.

“we’re stuck.” you mutter, looking back at minji.

“do you think dani and hanni will realize we’re missing?”

“they might be busy…” you pinch the bridge of your nose, resting your head against the door. “i have no idea how we’ll get out.”

you’re stuck with minji. kim minji. the hottest and cutest girl you’ve ever laid eyes on. the girl you think of way too much for it to be platonic. the girl who’s in a costume that genuinely has you considering ruining a friendship. the girl who’s leaning back against the shelf behind her right now, crossing her arms, and who’s eyes are flickering over you as she smiles.

“your costume is really something.” her voice is casual, like you’re not stuck in a shed. there’s also a warmth in her tone that isn’t hidden in the slightest. “i like it a lot. you look heavenly.”

if minji’s trying to ease the tension, she’s doing it very well. her stupid dad joke earns a laugh from you, and now you’re leaning against the door with one side of your body as you keep eye contact.

“thank you minji, your looks could really kill.”

she laughs, gums showing and eyes crinkling. you want her so bad. 

“that one was worse than mine.”

“no it wasn’t!”

she rolls her eyes. “it was.” she steps closer leaning her head against the same door and staring hard at every single feature of your face. she glances at your lips briefly, then back up. “bet you’ve turned more than a few heads tonight.”

“maybe,” you feel your voice growing quieter. “but i was stuck at the booth.”

“if i were at the booth i think i’d purposely stay just to see you. you look really pretty tonight y/n, i mean it.”

you blush. “maybe.” there’s a grin that you can’t keep off your face. “i’d say the same for you.”

she chuckles again, looking down at her slightly blood-stained dress shirt. “yeah, i think i took the pumpkin carving part a bit too seriously. got more guts on me than on the pumpkins.” she holds up her hands, still faintly stained with an orange hue, and shakes her head. “i’ll probably smell like pumpkins for a week.”

minji watches you turn to the side, covering your mouth to stifle a giggle. 

turning back, you’re mid-laugh when your eyes catch on a smudge of blood across minji’s cheek, just barely out of place. your hand moves without thinking, reaching up to brush it away with your thumb. the laughter fades, the shed shrinking around you, and everything slows, the only movement her skin warming under your touch.

minji’s gaze locks onto yours, intense and unblinking, and there’s something behind it that makes your heart skip. her eyes are barely liddied now, she swallows, biting down on the inside of her lip, before a slow, uncertain smile begins to take over her face. 

“you look so good right now,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost rough. her hand reaches up, covering yours, holding it there against her cheek, like she’s trying to commit the moment to memory, almost like it’ll end anytime – soon, or now.

you’re close enough to feel her breath, the slight catch in it. “good enough for you?” you ask softly, a smile playing at your lips, your words teasing, but your heart racing.

she chuckles, but it’s quiet, and her gaze doesn’t waver. “better than good,” she whispers, her hand falling from yours, trailing down to your waist, her fingers grazing the bare skin there, gentle, hesitant, like she’s testing the feel of you, seeing if you’ll pull away, but you don’t. minji smirks. “are you… seeing anyone?”

the question hangs between you, heavy and thrilling. you shake your head, your pulse pounding beneath her touch. “no one at all.”

she exhales, her voice barely above a whisper. “good.” her fingers press into your waist just a little more, her gaze flickering down to your lips, and you watch, almost dizzy, as she wets her own, her tongue darting out, just barely, the movement so subtle you’d miss it if you weren’t so close.

your hand moves from her cheek, trailing slowly down to the open collar of her shirt, brushing along her collarbone. her breath hitches, and her head tilts slightly, just enough for your fingers to press against her skin, her eyes closing for the briefest moment before she meets your gaze again. you don’t realize how close you’ve drawn until you feel her breath warm against your lips.

she glances at your lips for what seems the tenth time. you two are clearly vibrating on the same wave length, it’s evident.

then, with the faintest, almost imperceptible smile, minji closes the space between you, her mouth soft, warm, pressing into yours, a little unsure, like she’s savoring every second of it. her hand at your waist tightens, pulling you closer, her fingertips grazing the curve of your hip as she leans in, her other hand moving to cradle the side of your face, her thumb grazing your cheek. the world around you slips away, and all that’s left is her—the warmth of her lips, the feeling of her touch, and the overwhelming sense that every daydream you had is getting outdone by this moment. this real moment.

it’s so real when she pulls away with rosy cheeks. she looks at you nervously, as if she didn’t just take the oxygen from your lungs.

“was that alright?” she asks, sounding unsure. it’s cute, she’s cute, god she’s so cute.

“perfect.” you mumble.

your hand moves to where her tie is, it’s loose around her collar, making it easier for you to tug her right back into you. she gasps from surprise and groans into your lips, kissing you hard.

her fingers press into your skin and you shiver, parting your lips ever so slightly to sigh softly. minji smirks against your skin, trailing to your jawline with light pecks as you release your grip on her tie and snake your hand around her neck.

“i’ve–” a kiss to the side of your throat, “wanted to—” a kiss lower, “do this for—” and a soft kiss to the base of your neck, “so long.” 

your breath shakes after she finishes the sentence, she kisses your neck once more.

minji parts, moving you over so you’re is against some random, heavy box on the side of the shed and now both arms are around your neck. you’re a few more kisses in, mixed with content sighs and groans and handfuls of hair before you two almost bite each other’s lips off from the sound of the door opening. 

you barely have time to pull away, minji’s lips are still a breath from yours, her hand lingering at your waist. you both turn to see danielle, hanni, and yunjin standing in the doorway, eyes wide. you and minji spring apart, the movement so fast that it would be funny if you were witnessing the situation.

danielle’s shock morphs into a grin as she exchanges a look with hanni, and yunjin just has a hand over her mouth.

hanni’s mouth drops open before breaking into a smirk, her eyes flickering with pure satisfaction. 

“oh my god.” hanni breathes, relief in her voice. “it actually worked.”

before you or minji can respond, utterly confused considering they all look relieved rather than disgusted, yunjin takes one look at you and minji and bursts out laughing,

“i knew it! i knew you two would finally do something if we left you alone long enough.”

minji blinks, looking as if she’s still processing. you glance between them, your cheeks warm. “what?” you say exasperatedly, “what do you mean ‘finally’? what— what is all this?”

The three of them exchange looks before danielle nudges yunjin forward, her grin growing. “so uh, we might’ve had a little something to do with the door locking. maybe on purpose. maybe. perchance.”

“definitely on purpose.” hanni adds, crossing her arms. “we were all tired of watching you guys dance around your feelings. you two needed a push.”

minji stares at them with a mix of embarrassment and dawning realizaiton. then she glances at you, her face flushing before turning back to the trio.

“you all planned this?”

hanni nods, looking like she’s enjoying this way too much. “you guys are hopeless. you know? everyone could see that you two wanted each other except you two. who the hell nudges their friends like that? you both are like middle schoolers with their first crush.”

you exchange yet another glance with minji, who’s biting her lip. there’s a surprise mirroring on her face, and honestly it’s really cute. adorably cute. 

despite all the embarrassment, you can’t help but laugh, a little breathless.

“so… this was all a setup?” minji says, looking at them with a half-laugh, half-disbelieving shake of her head.

danielle shrugs, stepping aside to give you both room to leave the shed. “well, it worked, didn’t it?”

yunjin’s grin is teasing as she waves you both out, her eyes bright with excitement. “yeah, finally,” she echoes, a satisfied smirk on her face. you glance at minji, who’s still looking at you, and a shy, almost playful smile tugs at her lips.

and as you both step out of the shed, shoulder to shoulder, the knowing smiles of your friends after they glance behind, there’s a giddiness accompanying the space between you and minji.

they all explain something about your booths being over because you two were too busy making out — you barely listen — and minji nudges your shoulder again when they’re far enough to not hear her.

you turn, tilting your head a bit before she leans down a bit to mumble, “you know, i heard that if you don’t kiss me again, for at least an hour, bloody mary might show up in your room tonight.”

a laugh escapes your lips and you push minji, who’s grinning at you like an idiot. you roll your eyes and reach out to hold her hand, she squeezes yours excitedly. 

“that’s a new one. are you sure it’s true?”

minji quickly cups your cheek and steals a kiss, parting away to make sure your friends don’t turn around and tease you two relentlessly.

“that one just got rid of all the bad energy from before.”

“what bad energy?”

“the one that’s building up every second you don’t kiss me. it also builds up if you don’t go out with me for lunch tomorrow. or ever.”

you roll your eyes once more, then glance at your friends before kissing minji’s cheek.

“i can’t risk any of that, can i?”

[might-be-tiny-gt]

HI YEAH I ACCIDENTALLY REBLOGGED THIS TO MAIN.

anyways…

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH THANK YOUUUUUUUU

Surprise @might-be-tiny-gt, I was your secret Santa!

I drew their OC, a size shifter who uses potions to switch from 5 feet tall to 5 inches tall! I also drew a couple sketches of them, just cuz I think their design is really cool! love ponytails

Blazer and *fancy* dress, personally im partial to the blazer but what do i know. I hope you enjoy your present!!

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,�� she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 7

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“I want to go to that memorial service,” she repeated to Azriel.

“You are supposed to keep off your leg,” Azriel responded to her flatly.

Irena huffed, frustration clear in her voice. "I feel fine," she said, gesturing at her injury. "It’s just sore, but I’d be careful, I promise."

Azriel looked unconvinced, his gaze sweeping down her injured leg. "It needs more time to heal," he said firmly. "You shouldn’t be walking on it yet, let alone going to a memorial service."

Irena let out a frustrated sigh, her eyes meeting his in a steely stare. For a moment, a silent battle of wills passed between them. She was determined to attend the memorial, and he was just as determined to stop her from overexerting herself.

“You can carry me down,” she told him. “But I am going.”

Azriel held her gaze, stubbornness meeting stubbornness. The tension in the air was almost palpable. But then, finally, he let out a resigned sigh. He knew her well enough to know that once she’d made up her mind there was little to stop her.

“Fine,” he said finally, his tone one of reluctant acceptance. “But you’re resting when we get back, understand?”

Irena smiled, a small, victorious smile. “I promise,” she said, holding up a hand in mock surrender.

Azriel rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that tugged the corner of his mouth. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said gruffly, even as he carefully drew the brush through her hair.

Irena just leaned into his touch. "That's why you love me," she said easily, closing her eyes.

There was something so sweetly intimate in the fact that he loved to brush her hair and braid it away from her face...that he could spent hours doing just that.

When he had a bad night...a really bad night…wrecked with nightmares...sometimes it was all he did. Azriel drew his fingers through her hair again and again, silently. Irena had never asked him what he thought about when he did it...when those violently scarred hands touched her like she was the most precious thing in the whole wide world.

She just let him. And he did that. Every single time, almost reverently...like he wanted to savor the feel of her hair...like he was worshipping some part of her. It made her stomach flip. And it made her want to hold him, to keep the worst of the nightmares away.

Irena turned slowly, her injured leg stretched out in front of her. When she was facing him again, he set the brush down and carefully drew her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her firmly.

She leaned into his embrace, her heartbeat slowing when she felt the steady, reassuring rhythm of his own. She closed her eyes, breathed him in.

"I love you," she told him softly.

Azriel's strong, broad arms tightened around her, drawing her even closer. "I love you too," he murmured against her hair, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "More than I ever thought possible."

His lips found her forehead, then her temple, trailing a path of soft kisses across her skin until he reached her cheek. When he pulled back slightly, his eyes were dark, filled with a possessive need that made her heart stutter.

Azriel’s fingers traced a gentle line along her jaw, gently tilting her chin up. “Say it again,” he demanded quietly, his voice a rough whisper against her lips.

Irena's breath hitched at the command, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "I love you," she repeated, the words coming easily, like they were part of her. "I love you, Azriel."

The shadows were the one who helped procure one of her dresses for her to wear, and who helped button it up, carefully closing the fabric covered buttons that kept the long sleeves tight around her wrist. And then Azriel was the one who lifted her up

Azriel's strong arms encircled her, lifting her easily off the bed and into his arms. Irena wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart fluttering as she found herself cradled against his broad chest once more.

The muscles of his shoulders bunched under her touch, a testament to the strength coiled within him. He carried her with such ease; it was almost as if she weighed nothing to him. It was a heady feeling, being held by him like this.

Irena loved it.

He carried out of the room, the shadows opening the door…and then down to where they held the daily services they attended.Irena rested her chin on Azriel’s shoulder as they walked through the halls. Her injured leg was still throbbing, but being cradled in his arms made it easier to bear. Each step was carefully measured, so as not to cause her too much pain.

Shadows wreathed him as they moved through the corridors, a comforting presence. Azriel’s gait remained steady, each step measured to avoid jarring her injury too much.

Finally they arrived where they normally held their services, roslin already waiting for them. So was Meera who started at Azriel wide eyed as he put Irena down into a chair. “Let me know when you are done,” he told her softly and she pressed a kiss against his cheek in thanks.Irena watched as Azriel stepped back leaving the room, she didn’t think he was going to go far at all.

And then to her surprise suddenly Meera threw herself at her, sobbing. “I am sorry,” she whimpered.

Irena wrapped her arms around the younger girl, drawing her into a tight hug. "Hey, hey," she soothed, her voice gentle. "It's okay. Shhhh, don't cry."

The girl sobbed into her shoulder, her thin frame shaking. Irena held her, rubbing small circles into the girl’s back, trying to provide what comfort she could.

"It's okay," Irena repeated, her voice hushed. "It's going to be okay, Meera."

The girl shook her head, pulling back slightly to look up at Irena, her eyes red and puffy. “No it’s not,” she cried, her voice thick with tears. “It’s all my fault!”

“It’s not your fault,” Roslin said fiercely.

Irena shot Roslin a grateful look, appreciating the other female's support. "That's right," she said, giving Meera a gentle squeeze. "You have done nothing wrong, Meera. Don't for a second forget that."

"If I didn't ask you to talk to Merrill, you wouldn't have been hurt," Meera wailed tearfully.

Irena shook her head, her heart squeezing at the girl's words. "No, Meera," she insisted. "You are not responsible for what happened. Not one bit. Do you hear me?"

The girl sniffled, her body shaking with suppressed sobs. Irena hugged her tighter. "What happened is not your fault," she repeated firmly. "I don’t want to hear another word about it, understood?"

The girl nodded, her eyes still shimmering with tears. But Irena could see that she was no longer sobbing. "Good," Irena said, still stroking the girl's back soothingly. "You are not to blame, Meera. And you've got to stop thinking that you are, alright?"

Meera hiccuped and nodded again, a small, shaky breath leaving her. "I...I’ll try," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. But it was progress.

It was something.

The room filled slowly, Irena being greeted by the priestesses she had spent 2 centuries with. By her friends, by her sisters. Clotho squeezed her hand, not a single word coming from her, but they both had never needed to talk much anyway.

They had been friend for 2 centuries. Sometimes no words were needed. 

And then...then the memorial service started...and Irena listened silently.

Irena sat quietly, her injured leg propped up on a small stool. The room was filled with her sisters, all of them gathered together to remember the lost ones. There were tears, there was grief, but there was also an air of solidarity.

The priestesses listened as words were spoken, as memories were shared. The silence that fell afterwards was heavy. The loss was palpable in the air, a silent presence that hung over them all.

Irena looked around the room, her gaze tracing the faces of the priestesses around her. They were all hurting, each in their own way. But they were not alone. They were a community, a family bound together by a shared grief.

Even when Merrill had been difficult, she had been one of them. She had been loved. She had been a part of their community.

And they were grieving that loss.

Irena could see it in their expressions, the sorrow and pain mirrored in the eyes of every single one of her sisters. Merrill might not have been an easy person to get along with, but she had been one of them. Her loss left a hole in their midst, a gap that couldn't be filled.

There was a certain solidarity and comfort in that realisation. Loss brought them closer together, knitting them tighter in their shared grief. And that made the pain a little more bearable, knowing that they were all hurting together.

***

Azriel stood guard outside the room where the memorial service was being held, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was close enough to intervene should it be needed, but far enough to give the priestesses the space they needed to grieve.

Or at least he told himself that. He couldn't quite bear to let Irena far out of his sight yet.

Even though he knew it was foolish to be so worried, he couldn't help it. His instincts were still on high alert, as if he expected some new threat to come crashing down at them. And Irena's injury had only strengthened that protective part of him.

"There you are."

Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. As he looked up and stared at Mor. Just as beautiful as always.

When he had been young and stupid, he had taken one look at her and had fallen in love.

He stared at her now, the memory of that young, foolish boy bubbling in his chest. Mor's golden blonde hair fell into waves over her shoulders, her dark brown eyes fixed on him, studying him.

He didn’t even have it in him to confront the shadows why they hadn’t warned him. 

"I...wanted to talk to you," Mor said hesitantly.

Azriel pushed off the wall, uncrossing his arms. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this discussion right now.

"What about?” he asked flatly, his gaze flickering to the closed door to the memorial service. Mor didn't miss the look, her lips twisting up into a wry smile. 

"Guarding the door, I see," she said, her voice light, though there was an undercurrent of something...tender?

"What do you want, Mor?" he said sharply.

"I wanted to apologise," it blurted out of her.

Azriel froze, surprise flitting across his face. He hadn't expected an actual apology. "What?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Mor took a step closer to him. "I’m sorry," she said quietly, her expression sincere with none of the usual bravado. "For…well, everything, I suppose. I...I fucked up. And I hurt you...even when I never wanted to do that..."

Azriel's heart ached at her words, an old, festering wound throbbing. He'd tried to tell himself it no longer mattered, when really...it did. It always mattered.

"Why now?" he asked gruffly. "Why apologise...now?"Mor let out a shaky breath. "Because I finally realised what a fool I was," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "And...because…” her gaze met his, something broken in her eyes, “we’re all hurting. And some of us have lost too much already. I don’t want to lose my friend, Az."

"You could have put a stop to it centuries ago," he said, his voice gravel. "You could have told me 400 years ago that you would never be interested, Morrigan. Instead, you gave me just enough to keep me in line."

Mor closed her eyes, as if his words physically hurt. “I know,” she said in a low voice, her shoulders slumping. “I…I’m sorry. I'm such an idiot, Azriel. I should have...made it clear…instead I led you on. ”

Azriel's chest ached, hearing the remorse in her voice. He'd been angry at her for so long, his heart hardening to her, even as old feelings still hummed beneath the surface. “Why?” he asked hoarsely. "Why did you do it?"

"Because I was scared," Mor admitted. "Scared...of what people were going to think, what it would mean if...I was scared...and I used you...and I hurt you…And I am sorry, Az."

Azriel closed his eyes, his heart squeezing painfully at her words. "You shouldn't have used me, Morrigan," he said, his voice strained. "I'm not...I’m not a toy. I do have feelings." If she believed it or not. 

"I know," she said quietly. "And I took advantage of that. And it was wrong. I was in the wrong, Az. And I am truly, truly sorry."

Azriel leaned his head back against the wall, the cool stone against his head grounding. He'd heard Mor apologize before, but never with this level of seriousness. It...meant a lot. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't going to erase centuries' worth of heartache and pain.

Mor seemed to sense his thoughts, her eyes flickering to the closed door again. "I...I know an apology isn't going to fix anything," she said awkwardly. "I do know that. But...I just...I hope one day, we can go back to being friends?"

Azriel blew out a breath, his mind warring with his heart. The part of him that was still the young, foolhardy male who'd first loved Mor wanted to forgive her, to just go back to how they were.

But…he was no longer that naive boy. And the decades of pain and heartache he'd suffered at her hands were not so easily forgotten.

Mor was holding her breath, watching him closely, waiting for his reaction. She looked...worried, almost scared. As if she was afraid he would reject her.

And a part of him wanted to. Wanted to hurt her the way she’d hurt him.

But that part of him...it was not in control anymore. He let out another slow breath, the tension leaving his body. “I’m…” he began, his voice catching in his throat, “I’m not...I can’t…I need time,” he finally managed to say.A flicker of hurt passed across Mor's face, but was quickly hidden. 

She nodded slowly, her eyes falling again to the closed door. "I understand," she said quietly. “I...I hope one day…” she continued, her voice breaking off.

That hopeful, vulnerable expression on her face tugged at his heart, but he needed to harden himself against it. He couldn’t give in too easily. He let out a soft huff. “Stop looking at the door,” he told her fiercely. 

Mor inclined her head."I understand why you never told us," Mor said softly. "I do. But...I am happy for you. I want you to know that. I...I hope she makes you as happy as Emerie makes me," Mor said quietly.

Azriel couldn't help the small shudder that went through him at that. He still wasn’t used to such open talk about what Irena was to him. And to hear Mor...accept it, even be happy? It was almost surreal. "She does," he said quietly, his eyes flickering to the closed door.

Mor smiled faintly. “I’m glad.”

There was a long moment of silence, an awkward, strained thing growing between them. Azriel had a feeling he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to say.