#I’m just saying that What to Raise changed my life and if any of you insult my child I will be very sad about it from a distance

[ouroborosorder]

Yes. on one hand I do agree with the criticism that Togetoge’s music is relatively tonally inconsistent with the show. I think that it should be even like, 25% more punk to pull off the idea they were going for. Good J-Rock with depressing lyrics and a banger keyboardist is not that uncommon. it’s very strange to see them framed as a moderately punk anti-traditional underdog, when Cycle of Sorrow is objectively more punk sounding than any of Togetoge’s. Hell, Zombie Land Saga’s Gekkou Survive is still lapping it by virtue of having a drum solo. It ultimately contributes to Girls Band Cry feeling less like a show about punk rebellion against society and more about standard societal rudeness as a form of personal liberation. Although I personally would argue that is a strength of the show and is why I adore it so deeply, I can’t fault anyone for being ultimately disappointed with it.

on the other hand it’s my exact favorite type of music, and so every song immediately became an instant favorite, and if any of you say anything bad about it I’m going to cry

[cookinguptales]

So I’ve been enjoying the Disney vs. DeSantis memes as much as anyone, but like. I do feel like a lot of people who had normal childhoods are missing some context to all this.

I was raised in the Bible Belt in a fairly fundie environment. My parents were reasonably cool about some things, compared to the rest of my family, but they certainly had their issues. But they did let me watch Disney movies, which turned out to be a point of major contention between them and my other relatives.

See, I think some people think this weird fight between Disney and fundies is new. It is very not new. I know that Disney’s attempts at inclusion in their media have been the source of a lot of mockery, but what a lot of people don’t understand is that as far as actual company policy goes, Disney has actually been an industry leader for queer rights. They’ve had policies assuring equal healthcare and partner benefits for queer employees since the early 90s.

I’m not sure how many people reading this right now remember the early 90s, but that was very much not industry standard. It was a big deal when Disney announced that non-married queer partners would be getting the same benefits as the married heterosexual ones.

Like — it went further than just saying that any unmarried partners would be eligible for spousal benefits. It straight-up said that non-same-sex partners would still need to be married to receive spousal benefits, but because same-sex partners couldn’t do that, proof that they lived together as an established couple would be enough.

In other words, it put long-term same-sex partners on a higher level than opposite-sex partners who just weren’t married yet. It put them on the exact same level as heterosexual married partners.

They weren’t the first company ever to do this, but they were super early. And they were certainly the first mainstream “family-friendly” company to do it.

Conservatives lost their damn minds.

Protests, boycotts, sermons, the whole nine yards. I can’t tell you how many books about the evils of Disney my grandmother tried to get my parents to read when I was a kid.

When we later moved to Florida, I realized just how many queer people work at Disney — because historically speaking, it’s been a company that has guaranteed them safety, non-discrimination, and equal rights. That’s when I became aware of their unofficial “Gay Days” and how Christians would show up from all over the country to protest them every year. Apparently my grandmother had been upset about these days for years, but my parents had just kind of ignored her.

Out of curiosity, I ended up reading one of the books my grandmother kept leaving at our house. And friends — it’s amazing how similar that (terrible, poorly written) rhetoric was to what people are saying these days. Disney hires gay pedophiles who want to abuse your children. Disney is trying to normalize Satanism in our beautiful, Christian America. 

Just tons of conspiracy theories in there that ranged from “a few bad things happened that weren’t actually Disney’s fault, but they did happen” to “Pocahontas is an evil movie, not because it distorts history and misrepresents indigenous life, but because it might teach children respect for nature. Which, as we all know, would cause them all to become Wiccans who believe in climate change.”

Like — please, take it from someone who knows. This weird fight between fundies and Disney is not new. This is not Disney’s first (gay) rodeo. These people have always believed that Disney is full of evil gays who are trying to groom and sexually abuse children.

The main difference now is that these beliefs are becoming mainstream. It’s not just conservative pastors who are talking about this. It’s not just church groups showing up to boycott Gay Day. Disney is starting to (reluctantly) say the quiet part out loud, and so are the Republicans. Disney is publicly supporting queer rights and announcing company-supported queer events and the Republican Party is publicly calling them pedophiles and enacting politically driven revenge.

This is important, because while this fight has always been important in the history of queer rights, it is now being magnified. The precedent that a fight like this could set is staggering. For better or for worse, we live in a corporation-driven country. I don’t like it any more than you do, and I’m not about to defend most of Disney’s business practices. But we do live in a nation where rights are largely tied to corporate approval, and the fact that we might be entering an age where even the most powerful corporations in the country are being banned from speaking out in favor of rights for marginalized people… that’s genuinely scary.

Like… I’ll just ask you this. Where do you think we’d be now, in 2023, if Disney had been prevented from promising its employees equal benefits in 1994? That was almost thirty years ago, and look how far things have come. When I looked up news articles for this post from that era, even then journalists, activists, and fundie church leaders were all talking about how a company of Disney’s prominence throwing their weight behind this movement could lead to the normalization of equal protections in this country.

The idea of it scared and thrilled people in equal parts even then. It still scares and thrills them now.

I keep seeing people say “I need them both to lose!” and I get it, I do. Disney has for sure done a lot of shit over the years. But I am begging you as a queer exvangelical to understand that no. You need Disney to win. You need Disney to wipe the fucking floor with these people.

Right now, this isn’t just a fight between a giant corporation and Ron DeSantis. This is a fight about the right of corporations to support marginalized groups. It’s a fight that ensures that companies like Disney still can offer benefits that a discriminatory government does not provide. It ensures that businesses much smaller than Disney can support activism.

Hell, it ensures that you can support activism.

The fight between weird Christian conspiracy theorists and Disney is not new, because the fight to prevent any tiny victory for marginalized groups is not new. The fight against the normalization of othered groups is not new.

That’s what they’re most afraid of. That each incremental victory will start to make marginalized groups feel safer, that each incremental victory will start to turn the tide of public opinion, that each incremental victory will eventually lead to sweeping law reform.

They’re afraid that they won’t be able to legally discriminate against us anymore.

So guys! Please. This fight, while hilarious, is also so fucking important. I am begging you to understand how old this fight is. These people always play the long game. They did it with Roe and they’re doing it with Disney.

We have! To keep! Pushing back!

[almadelsur]

💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone. 

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau. 

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart. 

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you. 

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned. 

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know. 

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken. 

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning. 

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under. 

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj. 

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.” 

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

 3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

[retiredteabag]

I’m listening to you

Including: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Yuuji, and Megumi

Synopsis: You stop talking because you assume they aren’t listening… how silly of you, but how do they react?

my masterlist

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Satoru

It would probably be like any other day, he had probably just come back from a mission, laying across the couch and you would be in the kitchen making a snack board as you talked about numerous different things.

The conversation would shift through a multitude of topics as one thing would then reminded you of the next.

As you were getting the chips, you would explain the drama at work after that you would go and get some hummus while you explained the love life of one of your coworkers thereafter you would be reminded of a friend of yours from high school while piling up some cheese cubes.

Throughout all of this, there were very few breaks in your speech. When you finally came to the living room, Satoru would be facing towards you, with his head slightly tilted back on the armrest and his feet dangling off the other edge.

You could see him, just not very well. His blindfold would also be on, not an uncommon occurrence, but it would still be hard for you to see the slight changes in his facial features that typically depicted his emotions to you.

After awhile, you might start to wonder if he was feeling tired from the mission or if he just wasn’t paying attention. It’s okay, getting distracted happens to everyone sometimes.

Your words would taper off.

Believe me when I say it would not take this man any longer than say…five seconds for his head to raise and voice to pipe up,

“Well what happened next?”

And with a grabby hand he would add,

“Aren’t you gonna share those?”

Turning to point at the snacks in your lap.

For such a chatty guy, you would be surprised by how much he enjoyed just listening to others. Especially if it meant listening to you.

Nanami

Let’s be realistic here, this man would never take his undivided attention away from you.

That being said, the situation would be a little bit different with him. You guys would probably be out for coffee. Maybe the both of you had been busy for a while and felt the need to make a day out of catching up.

You know that embarrassing feeling when you get the notion you’ve been talking too much? It would be something like that.

You would have been gesturing and looking around the room while you talked about this and that. Unbeknownst to you, he would have hearts in his eyes while he listened to your ramblings.

That sudden itch would get to you though, the notion that, maaaaaaaaybe you have been talking about yourself too long.

One quick look at your man caused a shiver to run up your back at the eye contact.

There would be a pause in your speech, and he would nod at you to encourage more words to spill fourth, but now you were all flustered.

You would trip over your words, stuttering every so often before eventually apologizing.

“What is it, dear?”

He would ask, after a moment of you trying to collect yourself, he would assume that you had simply lost your train of thought and remind you of the topics you had been previously sharing.

You would thank him even though that wouldn’t have been the issue at all.

How could you not get shy when he was looking at you like that?

Choso

This would have to occur after a long day. Either during nap time or before you both went to bed.

He would be laying his head on your chest as you played with his freed hair. Talking about stuff you had seen online, talking about your plans for the next day, talking about what you were planning to eat for lunch tomorrow, the list could go on.

Every so often he would hum or nod his head. But after a while, you would look down and see that his eyes were closed.

It wasn’t hurtful, or embarrassing. It has been a long day for the both of you, and he was probably just tired. He often fell asleep easily when you combed through his hair with your nails. So you wouldn’t be offended as you go silent.

After you stop talking, though, he would grab your free hand and fiddle with your fingers, saying,

“I like those tacos too… we should get lunch together!”

You would giggle and tug on a lock of his hair, “I thought you were asleep.”

He would spin around onto his chest, chin pressed slightly into you while he looked up at your eyes through those big, long, lashes of his, “But you were talking to me?”

Sukuna

This man :| he would get offended if you insinuated that you could possibly be boring him.

Of course, it would be his fault, too. He would complain and whine all the time about how uninterested he was in your life. Griping that he had better things to do than just sit around and listen to you talk.

But don’t misunderstand, there was nothing he desired more than to watchyou speak about things that impassioned you.

But perhaps one of those instances you would take to heart, he was a busy man after all. It’s not like he had all the time in the world to listen to you yap about nonsense.

So after a long while in his chambers, you would just kind of go silent. ‘Allowing’ him a little time to himself.

Just earlier that day, you would have been telling him a story about one of your fellow workers at the estate. Sukuna had rolled his eyes at the incompetence of his staff as you giggled on about how a man got his hand stuck in a jar full of fertilizer.

You would take his disinterested countenance to assume that he was bored with you. For someone so ancient, he did have an attention span fitting to the times.

He always told you not to make assumptions about him, but after him asking you on several occasions, “and why are you telling me this?” You couldn’t help or conclude that he wasn’t all that interested.

I’ll tell you now. As much as he would like to pretend that was the case, it is far from the truth.

He would frown while laying on his bed. “Why did you stop?”

You would spin around, slightly surprised that he had even been paying attention. “Oh I just thought maybe I was boring you…”

That would cause him to sit up, scowling in your direction, “Did I say that?”

“Well…”

“Did. I. Say. That.”

“…no?”

Undeniably, sassy, he would splay out his arms in a “see??” type of motion. Waiting rather impatiently for you to continue on so he could relax to the sound of his lovers soothing voice while pretending to be impartial to it all.

Toji

This prick.

He wouldn’t do a thing lol

This man would let you assume he isn’t listening, let you think he’s off somewhere else, let you think he’s checked out.

But that could not be more wrong.

Maybe he’s eating his lunch, or watching tv, or texting someone. Whatever the case, there’s nothing he’s more locked into than your words.

In fact, it would take you a while into your relationship for you to realize this, but sometimes you would have to be careful around Toji because once you said something, this man would remember it forever.

You probably wouldn’t even think about it when you stopped talking, deciding to put your efforts into something else. But Toji would notice.

He wouldn’t bring it up though, not for days. But eventually he would crack the conversation back again, flipping the newspaper over and avoiding your eyes.

You would spin around on him, wondering how he even knew the things he was talking about. Then it would hit you.

“Wait… you were listening?”

He would scoff, elbows on the table, finally looking at you over his reading glasses. “Excuse me?” He would point an accusatory finger at you and set down the paper. “Was I listening?”

You would gape at him open mouthed, “Well… how was I supposed to know?”

He would roll his eyes in the most dramatic of fashions, getting up from the kitchen table to stroll over to you. “Please,” he would groan, grazing a knuckle over your neck,

“You’ve always got my attention.”

Yuuji

One might think this would happen early on in the relationship but I would argue this situation would happen after years together.

Why? Well, Yuuji is a super excitable guy, he also just loves talking to you. You both make a great pair because the two of you always converse in a way suitable to each other.

For example, sometimes you’d interrupt one another, never in a rude way, but in a way that shows passion about the topic at hand. That would bring on a whole new discussion and keep the conversation flowing.

Yuuji was a great listener when he needed to be but mainly he was a great conversationalist. Neither of you needed to do heavy lifting when you talked. It was great!

After awhile though, the two of you would become more and more comfortable around one another and more accustomed to the way you spoke.

That’s why it was so weird to see him less active in a conversation. He wasn’t interjecting with his little agreements or experiences. He would still be looking at you, but it was different.

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he might just be uninterested in the topic so you would get all quiet, focusing on something else until he spoke up.

“No, keep talking.”

Grinning at you, he looked just like he always did.

“You’re not bored?”

He would squint, confused at the notion, “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you just seem a little quiet I guess.”

But he would just smile at you, “I don’t know what it is… but recently I’ve been liking just admiring you.”

He would say things like that out of the blue all the time by the way.

“Yuuuuujiiiii” you would groan.

“What? Doesn’t mean I’m not listening!”

Megumi

Inversely to Yuuji, this would happen with Megumi early on in y’all’s relationship, likely pre-relationship when the two of you were just getting to know one another.

Megumi wasn’t really shy at all, he was more reserved, even though you weren’t all that talkative, he could still unintentionally make you feel like a blabbermouth at times.

The two of you would probably have been out on a walk together, or maybe in the cafeteria getting lunch, wherever, you would have been sharing some piece of yourself with him.

It would also probably have been a long time since he had spoke up. Sometimes he wouldn’t even give listening cues so it’s not too unusual to suppose that he was checked out.

Megumi was NOT checked out though. He was filing every little word you said away into his brain, and thinking of the best way to respond to you.

You might not know this though, so after awhile you might get all shy, suddenly looking off, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Embarrassed that he hadn’t heard a word, that’s when he would turn to you,

“I’m listening.”

Simple as that.

Reassuring but not overly affectionate.

He would do it in public and in private. If you were in a group and he could tell your confidence was slipping he would jump in to let you know that he cared about your thoughts and opinions.

And like in this instance when it was just the two of you, he might reach over to grab your hand, letting you know,

“I’m still here.”

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

So I’m a minor (16 to be specific) and I frequently watch and read stuff with explicit sexual or 18+ content in it. I live in an extremely conservative Christian household and things like explicit fanfic are pretty much the only option I have for learning about sex that isn’t abstinence only. I do feel bad about it, especially when I see adults online say stuff like “oh i watched lots of inappropriate things as a teen that i really shouldn’t have” and it makes me feel like I’m ruining myself in a way that I won’t realize until I’m an adult? Right now I don’t see what the big deal is but i get the feeling that when i’m 24 or something I’ll wake up one day and be ashamed of this for some reason i’m not mature enough to know yet. Should I just stop and wait until I’m 18 to continue or what?

hi anon,

okay. I'm gonna hit you with something:

turning 18 does not actually change the way you feel about porn or sex or anything. the difference between being seventeen and 364 days and being 18 is nonexistent. there's not a magical switch that changes you as a person; that comes from lived experience. if you're 18 and your experience is still that porn and smut and what have you i something that you should feel bad about, it's still going to feel that way and a birthday won't change that.

look, the whole notion of "I saw [x] that I shouldn't have when I was young" is like. okay. so you saw something that was a little mature for you that you didn't quite get? awesome. did you die? no. most people's hangups about sexuality don't come from seeing a rogue titty when they were a teenager, they come from the culture that person was raised in that made seeing a rogue titty feel like something to be ashamed of instead of a completely natural part of life.

story time! when I teach my 4th-6th grade OWL classes (Our Whole Lives, great human development program) I always start by holding a meeting with the kids' parents. I've been doing this for seven years, and every time without fail some of the parents will recall seeing porn for the first time as a kid. these guys were kids when printed porn magazines were still a thing, so they were discovering them in all kinds of places - the bedrooms of their parents or their friends' parents, at bus stops, in the woods, once even stowed in some farm equipment. and they remember it feeling illicit and exciting, sure, and possibly making them confused or even horny for the first time in their young lives, but like... that's it. none of these people are irreparably damaged by seeing porn. in fact, they've grown up to be the kind of people who go out of their way to make sure their young kids are enrolled in a queer-friendly, body-positive, diversity-embracing sex ed class to counter stereotypes and misinformation they might receive elsewhere.

looking at things that arouse you is morally neutral. it can be a great way to help you learn about what turns you on, and even if it's not the best source of factual, realistic depictions of sex, it can still help you discover things - hell, I only figured out what the clitoris was by reading Young Justice fanfic (shout out Snaibsel).

you can't ruin yourself, at any age, with the media you like to consume. what makes you uncomfortable and anxious is the attitude you've been taught to have about that media, which is something that has to be actively unlearned, because it's certainly not going to just disappear on its own when you become a legal adult.

tl;dr obviously no one is making you watch porn and you shouldn't if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you drop it right now and come back when you're 18 don't expect to feel any different if you haven't done any more unpacking re: the conservative Christianity of it all.

[ivyues]

Unlocked Trust: Stray Kids' reactions to the sharing of a phone PIN

Bang Chan

You’re in the kitchen preparing a snack when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Chris, can you check that? My hands are full,” you call out.

“Sure,” he says, walking over.

“The pin’s 0921,” you add casually.

He freezes, eyes widening for a moment before he chuckles. “Wait, did you just give me your PIN without hesitation?”

“Yeah, why?” you reply, glancing at him.

“No reason. Just didn’t think you’d trust me that much,” he teases, smirking as he unlocks the phone.

“Are you seriously doubting my trust now?” you quip, rolling your eyes.

He checks the message, his expression softening as he reads it. “It’s your mom. She says hi. By the way, I’m remembering your PIN as proof of my VIP access.”

Lee Know

“Minho, can you look at my calendar real quick? I think I have an appointment tomorrow, but I can’t remember the time,” you say, restricted by the cat in your arms.

“Where’s your phone?” he asks.

“On the couch. Pin’s 0412.”

He picks it up, muttering, “If this isn’t my birthday, I’ll be disappointed.”

“Why would it be your birthday?”

“Because you should’ve honored me with such a privilege,” he deadpans.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He quickly checks the calendar, then grins at you. “Yeah, 3 PM tomorrow. Oh, and I’m changing your PIN to my birthday now.”

“Excuse me?” you tease, pretending to be offended. “You think I’m just going to hand over my PIN to you like that?”

He raises an eyebrow, locking your phone with a smirk. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Changbin

He’s driving while you’re in the passenger seat, and his phone buzzes.

“Can you reply to that text for me?” he asks.

“Sure, what’s your PIN?”

“0309,” he says casually.

You pause, typing it in. “Isn’t that your mom’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a grin. “She’s the queen of my life. But you’re a close second.”

“Wow,” you say, pretending to be offended. “Second place, huh?”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Fine, you’re tied for first. Happy now?”

You give him a side-eye, smirking. “Tied for first? I’ll take it… for now.”

He chuckles, eyes back on the road. “Don’t worry. You’re first in my heart.”

Hyunjin

You’re folding laundary when you realize your phone is across the room.

“Jinnie, can you put on some music? My phone’s over there.”

“Sure. What’s the password?”

“1010,” you say, not looking up.

“1010? That’s so symmetrical. Why?”

“Because it’s easy to remember,” you reply.

He types it in, then teases, “Guess I should memorize this for emergencies. Or when I need to snoop.”

You laugh. “Snoop all you want. My search history is just memes and dog videos.”

He swipes through your phone, humming along to the music that starts playing. You glance at him, amused by how he seems to have completely settled in. “Just don’t start getting any funny ideas with my PIN.”

However, since that day, you've noticed a significant increase in selfies of your boyfriend filling your camera roll.

Han

He’s lying on the couch, arms wrapped around a giant pillow, while his phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Jisung, your phone’s ringing.”

“Can you answer it for me?” he mumbles sleepily.

“What’s your PIN?”

“4321,” he says, eyes still closed.

You laugh as you unlock it. “Seriously? 4321? That’s your password?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” you tease, “except a toddler could guess it.”

He opens one eye and grins. “But you’re the only one who knows now, so it’s genius.”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your face. “Genius, huh? I’ll make sure to tell everyone you’re a mastermind.”

He groans, pulling the pillow over his face with a dramatic sigh. “That's how you abuse my trust.”

You laugh, putting his phone back onto the couch. “Your secret’s safe with me. But just so you know, this is going down as one of your most questionable moves.”

Felix

You’re baking cookies, hands sticky with dough, when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Lix, can you check my phone? I think it’s a text from my sister.”

“Yeah, what’s your code?”

“0420,” you say.

He snorts as he unlocks it. “Isn’t that the date we first met?”

You grin. “Yep. Thought you’d like that.”

He looks at the text, then smiles warmly. “Your sister says hi and asks when we’re baking together again.”

“Tell her whenever she wants,” you say.

He leans in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “Will do. And by the way, I like how you made our first meeting a memorable one… for both of us.”

Seungmin

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your laptop, when your phone buzzes beside you.

“Seungmin, can you check my phone? I think it’s a notification from work.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0525,” you say casually.

He freezes, then smirks. “That’s not my birthday, is it?”

You laugh. “No, it’s my dog’s birthday.”

“Of course it is,” he mutters, unlocking the phone. “I guess I shouldn’t expect to rank higher than your dog.”

You glance up, teasing. “It’s almost the same thing, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Me and your dog? Really?”

“Yeah, well, my dog’s loyal, cute, and always there when I need cuddles,” you reply.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take second place… but I’m keeping my spot as your favorite human.”

You grin. “Tied for first, remember?”

He looks at you, still smiling. “I’ll take it.”

I.N

You’re sitting on the couch, reading a book when your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Innie, can you check my phone? I think I got a message from the group chat.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0802,” you say absently.

He freezes for a moment, eyes wide, then grins. “Isn’t that my birthday?”

“Yep,” you reply, still focused on your book.

He chuckles, his voice light with excitement. “I can’t believe you gave me your PIN so easily. I guess I’m extra special, huh?”

“You’re the only one who knows it now,” you say teasingly, glancing at him.

He laughs, checking your phone. “It’s from the group chat, asking when we're all hanging out next. And don’t worry, I’ll keep your PIN secret… unless I need to buy something nice for myself.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

masterlist

[muniimyg]

♡ 03: where art thou? why not upon-eth me?

series m.list // taglist

note: u can all thank my prof for pushing back my case study due date 😍 ,, tbh i give u cute moments in this pt and then i ruin ur life at the end <3 flood my asks and i'll update soon HAHAH ,, mwwaaaa

warnings: oc flirts with jk a lot ,, smut (sort of) ,, oc slaps jk ,, big fight lol

//

for obvious reasons, that car ride changed everything. 

it’s like a switch flips in your mind, a new experiment, a new challenge. you’re determined to push him. test him. see how far you can go without him snapping.

so, the week begins and you take notes. like a scientist, you’re methodical. 

careful.

but your methods are anything but innocent. 

you're testing him with everything you can think of: words, touches, close proximity—anything to see how he reacts. 

and fuck, does he react.

when monday rolls around, you start subtle. 

you’re sending him texts, clingy and cute, with just the right amount of affection to make his insides churn. you’re expecting a response, something—anything. but when the texts go unanswered for hours, your smile falters for just a second. 

his replies come in cold, sparse, detached.

nerd [12:13PM]: u’re trying too hard  nerd [12:18PM]: stfu for the rest of the day, yea?

on tuesday night, you attempt to perfect the art of being close without overdoing it. 

it’s a delicate balance—teasing the line between friendly and intimate, but you feel confident… partly because the circumstances are on your side. mentally, you thank jimin for inviting you over to join their movie night. 

as you sit next to him on the couch, your body just a little too close, brushing against him ever so slightly. your shoulder presses against his, the fabric of your shirt grazing his skin. 

it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make him feel the weight of your presence beside him. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for any sign, any reaction. his eyes stay glued to the screen, but you catch the subtle tension in his shoulders. 

you can feel it in the way his muscles tighten, like he’s aware but is trying to pretend otherwise.

you don’t pull away. 

instead, you lean in further, your body pressing against his just a little bit more. you can feel the heat radiating from him, and it makes your heart race. you let your head gently rest on his shoulder, letting the weight of it fall naturally.

for a moment, his body is still, like he’s frozen in place. his breathing stays steady, controlled, but you can tell he’s aware. his jaw tightens ever so slightly, and you notice the way his fingers twitch, like they’re itching to push you away, but he doesn’t. his hand, though relaxed, sits just inches from yours, and you can almost feel the friction between the two of you, an invisible force keeping you both in place.

"are you serious?" he glares at you.

you take note that his voice is flat but tinged with something else—like he’s trying to convince himself this is all just a joke.

you smile, pretending to play innocent. 

“what?”

“___…” he warns. “… fuck. whatever.”

“yeah?” you tease. “whatever? jungkook, i’m just sitting here, enjoying the movie," you say, tone light, as if there’s nothing unusual about the way your body is pressed so close to his.

he shifts uncomfortably, but you can tell it’s not a total rejection. 

his arm, once resting by his side, is now slightly tense, fingers flexing just a bit. 

“you’re really pushing it today," he adds, his voice gruff, but there’s no real bite behind it—just a hint of reluctant amusement. “the guys will notice.”

you don’t move.

you just stay there, head still resting against his shoulder, feeling the way his body stays taut beneath you. 

“let them.”

his jaw tightens again, but he doesn’t push you away. 

instead, his arm stiffens where it rests against the back of the couch, like he’s holding himself back. 

“you comfortable?”

“mhm,” you answer half-heartedly. 

“with me?" he says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you sideways. "keep lying to yourself. you should quit this shit soon.”

you smile knowingly.

his words are harsher than he means them to be, but his body says otherwise. he’s not pulling away, not really. his chest rises and falls with a quiet exhale, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

“if it’s so shit, then you move." you murmur, pressing just a little closer.

he shakes his head, his hand twitching again like he’s about to do something, but he doesn’t. 

instead, he leans his head back against the couch and tries to focus on the movie. you can tell he’s trying to hide the way his breath catches whenever you get too close, but you notice it all the same.

the silence settles, but it's different now. 

you’re closer, and you can feel the way the tension thickens. he doesn’t push you away, and he doesn’t pull closer, but his body is no longer stiff. 

there’s a slight shift—a crack in the armor, just enough for you to know you’re making progress.

when wednesday arrives, the tension between you and jungkook shifts. you can feel it in the air—a subtle change, like a shift in the current. you’ve pushed him just enough that now, you know he’s starting to feel something. 

maybe it’s curiosity, maybe irritation, but whatever it is, it’s there. 

and that’s when you go for it.

you’ve intruded his home for the 2nd time this week (thank you yoongi for the emergency key). you’re standing behind him as he fiddles with something at the counter. you glance at him, making sure the space between you is just close enough that you can brush up against him without making it too obvious. 

you take your time as you lean across the counter to grab a mug. 

the movement is slow and deliberate. you make sure your boobs brush against his arm as you do. he’s taller than you so no matter what; it’s inevitable. 

he’ll see what you intend for him to see.

it’s casual like you’re just going about your business… but you watch him carefully, studying his reaction. his body stiffens for the briefest second. his eyes flicker, narrowing, before he quickly schools his features again, turning away slightly. 

but you see it—you feel the way his jaw tightens, the way his shoulders shift. 

it’s all there, even though he tries to play it cool.

you don’t move away. 

instead, you linger just a little longer, standing closer than you need to, your body just a bit too close to his. you watch as his eyes flicker, the smallest hint of frustration in his gaze, before it softens into something you can’t quite place. 

maybe it’s confusion. maybe it’s something more.

“you look handsome today,” you say, the words slipping out with that playful, almost too-casual tone. though your voice is light, there’s a little challenge in it. you know how it sounds, and you know it’s enough to get under his skin.

for a moment, there’s a beat of silence. 

he doesn’t flinch. 

doesn’t even look at you directly. 

… but you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, and when you glance at him, you see his lips pressed together tightly. his face is impassive, but you know better. he’s holding back, trying to keep it together.

“cut it out,” he utters under his breath. 

it’s not the sharp command you expect, though. it’s more like a warning. like, he’s not sure what to do with the way you’re pushing him. his gaze flickers down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he quickly looks away.

you grin, knowing you’ve struck a nerve. 

then, you pull back just slightly, but you don’t move too far. you keep your body close, letting the space between you linger with tension. slowly, your eyes flicker to his, catching the way his gaze darts between your eyes and lips, and the flicker of hesitation in his expression.

you know it’s working. 

the coldness is a mask, a shield, but it’s starting to crack. the way his body tightens ever so slightly, the way his breath hitches for a fraction of a second, it’s all the proof you need. he’s trying to pretend he’s not affected, but you can see through it.

innocently, you tilt your head, studying him. 

"what’s wrong, jungkook?" you ask, your tone dripping with false sweetness. "did i make you uncomfortable? or just horny?”

he looks at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing again, but you see the shift in him. 

he’s not as cold as he wants to be. 

there’s something softer in the way he looks at you now, the way his shoulders relax just a little. but the silence stretches between you, and you can feel the unspoken words beginning to weigh in.

jungkook stays quiet but the tension is undeniable, and you know—you know—he’s not as unaffected as he wants to be.

on thursday, you decide to be a menace.

the timing has to be perfect, so you wait outside jungkook’s lecture hall, pretending to be on your phone. 

when the doors open, students file out in waves, and there he is—black hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. he’s walking with a few of his classmates, casually chatting. you wait until he’s just a few feet away before stepping into his path.

the bump is perfectly orchestrated. 

your shoulder brushes his, and your notebook, pens, and phone all tumble to the ground with an exaggerated clatter.

“oh no…” you sigh dramatically, crouching down immediately to gather your scattered belongings. jungkook stops, his classmates following suit, their conversation halting as they glance at you and then down at your outfit—a fitted crop top and a tiny skirt that rides up a little too much when you kneel.

you hear a low whistle from one of the guys behind jungkook.

“damn,” someone murmurs, and that’s all it takes for him to snap. 

his jaw tightens as he bends down next to you, shoving your phone and notebook into a messy pile before grabbing your forearm, and making you stand.

“seriously?” he mutters, glancing behind him at his classmates, who are still ogling. “you couldn’t wait to drop all this somewhere without an audience?”

you blink innocently, brushing off your skirt as you stand. 

“it was an accident,” you pout at him. “but thanks for helping.”

his glare softens, but only slightly. he bends down again, this time crouching low and deliberately blocking the view of his classmates as he picks up your things.

“wanna introduce me to your nerd friends—“

when he straightens up, he thrusts the pile into your hands, but before you can even say anything, he asks, “where are you going?”

you hesitate, taken aback by the question. “uh, the other side of campus...”

jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. 

“i’ll walk you.”

“really?” you say, surprised, but already grinning. he looks like he regrets offering the second the words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t take it back. “you don’t have to. did you have a meeting or something with your marine conservation club?” 

he tilts his head at you. 

“what? i’m not mr. save the dolphins today? your tiny brain actually remembers my club name?”

you shrug.

“i’m not that dumb.”

“so you say,” he grumbles. “but yeah. i do have a meeting. i’ll just attend it late.”

gasping, you let out a last-minute squeal. “mr. perfect attendance is tarnishing his rep for me?”

“it’s fine,” he says flatly, glancing back at his friends and muttering something about catching up with them later. before you can tease any further, he’s taking your notebook and phone from your hands, tucking them under his arm as if it’s his duty now.

as the two of you walk, you chatter away, filling the silence. 

normally, he’d roll his eyes or tell you to be quiet, but today, he listens. 

he nods occasionally, even hums in acknowledgment, though his eyes are straight ahead, his expression carefully neutral. you can’t help but notice, though, the way his hand finds its way to your waist—lightly at first, almost hesitant, but then it lingers, his fingers splayed across your side as though keeping you close.

and then, as if his subconscious takes over, his hand slips lower, brushing against the curve of your ass. your steps falter for a moment, and you turn to look at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

“jungkook?” you say, arching a brow. “y-your hand…”

he blinks, glances down, and quickly pulls his hand back, shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie as it burns him. 

“shut up,” he hushes you, his ears turning red. "you wanna act like an ass? at least give me some."

you laugh, loud and unapologetic, and he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

but you notice the way his shoulders are less tense now, the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he doesn’t say anything as he walks you the rest of the way, carrying your things like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

on friday, you leave him alone.

no texts, no calls, and no showing up.

by 2pm; jeon jungkook realizes he misses you.

so, jungkook caves.

nerd [3:02PM]: wya? nerd [3:04PM]: come over :/ yn [3:08PM]: hiii yn [3:08PM]: what for ? nerd [3:09PM]: sent image attachment nerd [3:09PM]: figure it out ?

you don’t see jungkook until saturday night.

… which, isn’t too bad considering it would’ve just been like… a day and half since he last saw you—but it was bad. 

jungkook ran through all the possibilities in his head. 

could he be sick?

could he be undergoing some sort of unconscious stress that’s leading him to feel this way about you? 

or… was it finally time for him to accept the truth?

when the doorbell rings, jungkook wants to answer it. 

but he stops himself.

he isn’t easy. 

he doesn’t want to be. 

instead, he lets one of the guys answer it. 

as you walk into the room, you’re greeted with the view of the guys are lounging around, a few beers and snacks spread across the coffee table. jungkook is in his usual spot, slouched in the corner of the couch, his hood up, legs stretched out like he owns the place.

he looks up when you enter, his dark eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away, as if the sight of you doesn’t make his heart trip over itself. you catch the subtle change in his posture—he straightens ever so slightly, his legs pulling in just a bit, his shoulders losing their slump.

“hi,” you call out, your voice light and warm as you shrug off your coat.

he nods at you, keeping his face neutral. 

“hey,” he replies, the word coming out gruff, almost dismissive, but you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers as you move to take a seat. 

you plop down on the couch next to him, close enough that your thigh brushes his. he stiffens at the contact, his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, but he doesn’t shift away.

“mad at me?” you tease, tilting your head to look at him, your lips quirking into a grin.

he looks at you funny. 

“why would i be?”

you shrug.

“you aren’t greeting me like the way i want you to.”

he leans forward. “how do you want me to greet you?”

you pause, pretending to take a moment to think. then, you take his hand and gently place it on your upper inner thigh. his eyes widen and you stroke his hand gently. 

“wanna—”

he scoffs, his expression carefully guarded. jungkook catches your bluff.

“god, you’re annoying.”

yet, the corner of his mouth betrays him, twitching upward just a little.

you giggle and then push his hand off. 

the banter is effortless, the tension between you subtle but electric. 

throughout the evening, you’re all warmth and light, leaning into him when you laugh, your hand brushing his arm or shoulder every chance you get. at first, jungkook attempts to resist. 

his replies are short and his eyes anywhere but on you… but as the hours slip by, you feel him softening, his walls starting to crack just enough for you to sneak through.

then comes the game of mafia.

the group gathers around the coffee table, cards dealt, and jungkook ends up as the supposed villain. the accusations start flying almost immediately.

“you’re way too quiet, man,” taehyung declares, pointing at jungkook with a dramatic flourish. “you’ve got ‘mafia’ written all over you.”

jin chimes in, grinning. “yeah, it’s always the quiet ones. plus, look at him—he’s sweating.”

“i’m not sweating,” jungkook snaps, sitting up straighter, his jaw tightening. “i’m wearing a fucking hoodie and you guys turned up the heat. you're all so fucking bad at this game, you've all been sabotaging me physically!”

the others laugh, piling on more ridiculous accusations. even you can’t help but join in, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.

“sorry, jungkook,” you say, shrugging with mock innocence. “you do look kind of guilty.”

his eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, something raw flickers there—hurt, maybe, or frustration. his lips part like he’s about to say something, but instead, he pushes back his chair and stands abruptly.

“what the fuck do you know, ___?”

old habits die hard.

“chill,” yoongi warns. “it’s just a game.”

“whatever,” jungkook says, his voice clipped. “this game’s stupid anyway.”

without another word, he turns and storms off, leaving the room in stunned silence. the sound of his bedroom door slamming echoes.

the group exchanges awkward glances before taehyung leans toward you with a teasing smirk. 

“our boyfriend is in a mood… what should we do?”

jin chuckles. “___, you should probably go check on him before he sulks himself into oblivion.”

rolling your eyes, you push yourself up from the couch. 

“he’s so dramatic,” you chime, but there’s a softness to your voice as you head up the stairs and down the hall towards his room. 

a part of you hesitates… partly because of the event that occurred the last time you were here. but, you shrug it off. as you stand before his door, you raise your fist to knock but abruptly, he swings his door open.

“what do you want?”

“how’d you know—”

“you’ve got heavy ass fucking feet.”

you hiss at him. “yah, sore loser energy does not look good on you.”

opening the door wider, you step inside. he huffs and sits on the edge of his bed. with his hood still up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he glares at you with a mix of irritation and something else—something softer.

“did they send you up here to check up on me? what did they bribe you with this time?”

“nothing actually,” you answer him truthfully. “i’ve got my own motivations.”

jungkook can’t help but crack half a smile. 

“like what?”

you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with a small, knowing smile. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

before he lets himself enjoy this moment, his jaw tightens, and he looks away. his gaze fixes on the floor. 

“why’d you turn on me?” he huffs, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

you push off the doorframe, stepping closer.

“it’s just a game, jungkook,” you say gently, your voice deliberately soft. “you’re not actually mad, are you?”

his shoulders tense, a flicker of something crossing his face—annoyance, maybe, but there’s something deeper underneath. his hands clench into fists on his thighs, the muscles in his forearms flexing as though he’s trying to ground himself.

“it’s not the game,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and raw like it was dragged out of him against his will.

you blink, caught off guard by the weight of his tone. “then what is it?”

his jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. his fingers twitch at his sides, and then he’s dragging a hand through his hair, pushing back his hood. his hair falls messily over his forehead, but he doesn’t fix it. when his eyes finally meet yours, it’s like being hit with a tidal wave—anger, frustration, and something else that makes your breath catch.

“you.”

your heart stutters in your chest, but you keep your composure, tilting your head slightly. “me?”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to find the right words.

“you play too much.”

his voice is rough but lacking its usual sharpness.

“you get in my head… and then you just—” he cuts himself off, the frustration rolling off him in waves. his leg bounces slightly, and his hands grip his thighs again, knuckles pale from the tension.

“you don’t even care,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost like he doesn’t want to admit it. “what the fuck were you doing to me all week? experimenting or some shit? fuck, isn’t your major psychology or something? you’re basically being trained to be a psycho.”

the jab stings, but you ignore it. instead, your chest tightens at his words, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to bury beneath his irritation. you take a step closer, your knees almost brushing his.

“i do care,” you say softly, reaching out, your fingers brushing against his knuckles.

his gaze drops to where your fingers touch his, and for a moment, he’s completely still, like he doesn’t know what to do. then, slowly, his hand turns over, palm-up, brushing against yours with a hesitance that makes your chest ache.

“then can you stop messing with me?”

there’s something about his tone—about the way he says this. his words are one thing, but the ache of his deliverance is completely something else.

“i wasn’t messing with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked on his.

his lips part slightly, and his breathing is uneven as his eyes search your face, like he’s looking for something—an answer, a hint, anything.

“then what are you doing?”

you lean in, closing the distance just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. your smile is soft, almost teasing, but there’s a weight behind it.

“making you want me.”

jungkook is good. 

you have no idea how or why, but your underwear and skirt are on the other side of his bedroom floor. 

your legs are spread wide for him, as he licks his fingers and begins to gently drag it inside your folds. he separates them before lowering himself in. he looks at you, not breaking any eye contact as he flicks his tongue against your clit. 

you clench your fist. 

after a few licks and sucks, he lifts his head away. he brings his fingers to your mouth, cueing you to suck on them. 

you do. 

as he places his thick fingers inside, you part your mouth and suck on them. bobbing your head and twisting your tongue around his digits as you suck—jungkook winces at the way you do so. 

“fuck,” he utters. 

as he takes his fingers out, he begins to massage your folds. his pressure is firm yet pleasurable. his fingers trace around your entrance and play with your clit. you feel your toes curling as he breathes near your pussy. 

it pulsates. 

he can’t help it. the view is just too fucking perfect. jungkook massages your folds, spreading them a part before he spits on it. he takes his thumb and rubs in his saliva. massaging it in, slowly and surely—mixing it with your wetness. 

“good kitty,” jungkook praises. “your pretty pussy is swelling up, ___. what’s going on? excited? horny? happy? you’re so wet, baby. so fucking—do you hear it?”

jungkook shoves his fingers inside you, curling and pumping them in and out. you gasp at the sharpness but feel completely immersed in his act. 

.. and yes.

you do hear it.

you hear how wet your fucking pussy is.

“o-oh my god! j-jungkook—”

“yeah, baby?”

your stomach twists. 

“d-don’t—stop. stop calling me—”

“sorry,” he apologizes quickly, shifting his body to tower over you. he caresses your face, his thumb lingering on your bottom lip. then, he kisses your cheek and trails his kisses down to your neck. you moan at his softness. 

he’s so close to you. it’s only now that you realize how addictive he is.. from the way he smells to the way his touches make you feel…

he’s perfect.

in this moment, he is everything to you.

“sorry,” he repeats against your skin. “i’m sorry, kitty.”

you gulp. 

“do you forgive me?” he pouts, resting his forehead against yours. “hmm? forgive me, please.”

“i forgive you,” you breathe. “c-can you—”

just as you reach for him, he shakes his head. 

“can’t kiss you,” jungkook sighs. “won’t know how to get rid of you after.”

you smile. 

“you wanna get rid of me after this?”

jungkook stays quiet. 

you shift. 

“no.”

just as jungkook leans in, your lips inches a part—

the door suddenly creaks open.

a girl—someone you didn’t recognize—steps halfway in, her hand still on the doorknob, her brows lifting in surprise when she sees the two of you.

her eyes darts between your flushed face and jungkook.

“oh, shit! uh—sorry,” she says quickly, taking a step back but still lingering awkwardly in the doorway. “i didn’t know you had a tutoring session before mine... i’ll, um, come back later, then? sorry to interrupt.”

before you can even process her words, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her. the sound left a hollow sort of silence in its wake like the air had been sucked out of the room.

you blink at the now-closed door, the words tutoring session before mine looping in your head like a broken record. your chest tightens, heat crawls up your neck as you turn back to jungkook. 

his expression is already shifting, panic bleeding into his features.

you shift your body entirely, pushing him off you.

“wait,” he starts, “shit, ___. it’s not like that—”

“okay,” you say flatly. 

you get up from his bed and grab your underwear and skirt. yanking them on, your movements frustrate jungkook. 

he doesn’t know what to do. 

in any and every angle—he’s in the wrong.

“i’m sorry, okay?” he tries again, stepping closer. his voice was softer now, almost pleading. “it wasn’t—i didn’t know she’d just barge in like that. i thought the door was locked—”

you shove past him, your shoulder brushing his as you make your way toward the door. you could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, a sick mix of anger and humiliation clawing at your throat.

“wait—” his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, but you ripped it free, spinning around to glare at him.

“don’t.”

“___, please—”

“it’s not about whether or not the door was locked—” you choke, “it’s… fuck. tutoring session, really? is that what i am right now? is that what she is—”

“no,” jungkook answers sternly. “holy fuck, please. let’s talk about this—”his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to let you go, to just let you leave. but then he took a step forward, his voice sharp and cutting—

“___, what did you want from me?”

you freeze, your hand still on the doorknob, your back to him. the words hit you like a slap, knocking the wind out of you.

jungkook takes a chance. 

he steps closer to you. 

“... because, honestly, i don’t think you even know.”

you stay quiet. 

jungkook clears his throat. 

“well, fuck. if you don’t know, then it’s not my fault,” he says, his tone hard now, defensive. “you can't want things from me and then not know how to handle shit, ___. you don’t get to make me another one of your fucking situationships. you wanted me to want you and this—holy shit. this isn't my fault. it’s yours—”

suddenly, your palm connects with his cheek before you even realize it. the sound of the slap reverberates in the room. his head jerked to the side, and for a moment, he just stands there, stunned.

your hand stung, your chest heaving as you stared at him, your vision blurring at the edges.

“i hate you.”

“___, i’m sorry—”

but it’s too late. 

you don’t even bother looking back as you storm out of jungkook’s room, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and humiliation. the tears are already burning at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, determined not to let them fall. your feet carry you down the hall, towards the stairs, your vision blurry with rage.

“wait—” jungkook’s voice echoes behind you, followed by the thud of his footsteps as he chases after you. he hustles, dressing himself as he goes after you.

“fuck off!” you snap, your voice trembling but firm.

he doesn’t listen. 

of course, he doesn’t. 

“holy shit—please! ___, stop. just fucking hear me out—” he pleads, his tone exasperated, like he doesn’t know what else to say.

“stop?” you spin around halfway down the stairs, glaring up at him. “stop what, jungkook? stop assuming? stop feeling humiliated? stop—”

your voice cracks, and you hate how raw it sounds.

“whatever.”

jungkook freezes on the step above you, his lips parted as if he’s going to respond, but nothing comes out.

you don’t wait for him to gather his words. 

you turn back and keep walking, practically jogging down the last few steps and into the living room where everyone else is. their laughter dies down the second they see you—flustered, teary-eyed, and furious—followed immediately by jungkook chasing after you.

“uh, what’s happening?” namjoon asks, his eyebrows raised as he glances between you and jungkook.

“are you two fighting?” jin’s tone is a mix of concern and curiosity, his head tilting as he watches the scene unfold.

"fuck," jungkook groans. "no shit, hyung."

“guys, let’s all chill,” taehyung interjects, raising his hands like a referee. “we’re all friends here—”

“he’s no friend.” you cut him off, your voice sharp and laced with emotion. you’re trembling now, fighting the tears that threaten to spill over. 

the room goes silent.

even taehyung, who was halfway through a casual shrug, stops mid-gesture. everyone’s eyes dart to jungkook, whose expression shifts from startled to pained in a split second.

“what am i to you, then?” jungkook asks, his voice low but audible enough in the tense quiet. he takes a step toward you, his hand reaching out before falling limply to his side. 

you don’t answer. 

you just shake your head, the tears finally breaking free as you turn on your heel and head for the door. the air feels suffocating, and you need to get out of there before your emotions betray you any further.

“wait—” jungkook’s voice cracks, and for a moment, it sounds like he’s desperate. he jogs after you again, his hand catching your wrist just as you’re about to reach the front door.

“why the fuck are you so pissed about this?” jungkook cries. “holy shit, you’re infuriating. you know that?”

“are you done?” you ask him coldly. 

a beat. 

“do you want me to be?”

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake – From Vigilante to Infinite Realms Royalty

It was one of those things that Tim never imagined would happen, not in his wildest Gotham nights. But then again, dating Danny Fenton, aka Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, came with more than just the usual paranormal hijinks.

Tim was used to strange things, but being royalty? That was definitely new.

The revelation hit him one evening when Danny casually mentioned it, like he was talking about the weather.

“You know you’re technically royalty now, right?” Danny said, lounging upside down in the air like it was the most normal thing ever.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Royalty? What are you talking about?”

Danny grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, you’re dating me. And I’m the King of the Infinite Realms. So that makes you my consort… which, you know, technically makes you royalty too.”

Tim froze. “Wait—what? That’s not how this works. I didn’t sign up for—”

“Oh, but it is how it works. Welcome to ghost politics, Drake.”

And that’s when Tim realized his life just got infinitely more complicated.

Naturally, the bats found out. Because of course they did. And it spiraled into something Tim really didn’t want to deal with.

It started when he casually mentioned it during a meeting in the Batcave. He figured it wasn’t a big deal. After all, being ‘royalty’ in a ghost dimension didn’t really change anything, right?

Wrong.

Bruce didn’t even flinch. He just kept typing at the Batcomputer. “You’re dating the Ghost King, and now you’re royalty?”

“Technically, yes,” Tim said, trying not to sound too defensive.

Bruce glanced at him. “I see.”

That was all he said. But it was enough to make Tim feel like he’d just announced he was moving to the moon.

Jason, of course, immediately jumped on it. “Hold up. So you’re, like, ghost royalty now? Does that mean you get a crown or something?”

Tim shot him a glare. “No, I’m not getting a crown.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Jason grinned. “Sounds like royalty to me. Next thing you know, we’re gonna be bowing to Prince Drake of the Phantom Zone.”

“It’s not the Phantom Zone, Todd.”

Damian, predictably, was furious. “This is ridiculous. You, Drake? Royalty? You are not fit for any throne, especially one in the Infinite Realms. The entire concept is absurd.”

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m not ruling anything, Damian. It’s just a title.”

“An unearned one,” Damian muttered under his breath.

Steph, on the other hand, thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Wait, wait. So if you and Danny are together for real, does that mean we have to call you ‘Your Highness’? I need to know. Are there royal ghost duties? Do you have to make decrees?”

“No. Please stop,” Tim groaned.

But the worst part? The teasing didn’t stop. Every dinner, every mission, every time Tim walked into the room, someone had something to say.

“So, Tim,” Dick said one day with a grin. “Have you started planning ghostly state visits yet? I’m sure the Justice League would love to attend a royal banquet in your honor.”

“No state visits,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “I don’t even rule anything.”

“Sure you don’t, ‘Your Ghostliness,’” Jason added with a laugh.

The bats seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world. Tim? Not so much. But he had to admit, ghost politics were no joke. He was already getting drawn into weird Infinite Realms power struggles, where ancient beings would bow to him and ghosts would whisper about “the King’s consort.”

At first, Tim tried to play it off. He didn’t need the title. He wasn’t about to walk around with a crown and robes, or start making royal proclamations. But when one of the ghost courtiers addressed him as “My Lord,” he couldn’t help but cringe.

Danny found the whole thing hilarious. “Don’t worry,” he’d say with a smirk. “You won’t have to do anything royal. It’s just… a perk.”

“Some perk,” Tim muttered.

Still, despite all the teasing and the bizarre ghostly politics, Tim knew one thing for sure: he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Dating Danny came with chaos, sure. But at the end of the day, Tim was okay with it. Even if it meant being ghost royalty.

Just… no crown. Ever.

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings

Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!

Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.

~~~~~

Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.

Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.

Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.

However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.

And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.

Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.

As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.

But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.

But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.

Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.

It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.

Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.

He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.

~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.

~~~~~~~~

It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.

And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.

The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…

Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.

Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.

~~~~~~~

When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.

Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.

Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.

Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.

~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.

~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~

Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.

Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.

Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.

Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.

Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.

~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.

~~~Several Days Later~~~

Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.

~~~Several years later~~~

[importantpuppystarfish]

Repopulating the whole world with Wonyoung

Male reader x Jang Wonyoung

Plot : You are from a random country "X". World War 3 is ongoing. Genre : Survival, Romantic, Emotional. Includes: 69, rimjob, facesitting, wony pissing, breeding, lots of kissing.

I drag myself onto the rocky shore, my body aching from the endless swimming. My clothes are soaked, my breaths ragged, and my arms feel like they could fall off any second. But I made it.

The world is in ruins. World War III tore everything apart. Cities burned, people scattered, and survival became a desperate gamble. I don’t know how long I was in the water, moving from boat to boat, trying to stay afloat. But somehow, I reached this island near the Korean Peninsula.

I push myself up, coughing out of the salt water, and scan out my surroundings. The island is covered in dense trees, the sand untouched, the wind eerily silent. No signs of life.

Except for one.

A girl stands near the water’s edge, her long, damp hair flowing in the wind. She’s wearing a torn white dress, clinging to her body from the seawater. Even in this chaos, she looks unreallike -- gorgeous.

I blink. My brain struggles to process what I’m seeing.

It’s Jang Wonyoung!

The Wonyoung. The famous K-pop idol. The girl that once stood on dazzling stages, worshipped by millions. And now, she’s here, stranded just like me. Wonyoung also came to the same island through swimming to save herself from the war.

She notices me. Her eyes widen, and she steps back slightly, uncertain. I must look like a wreck, an exhausted or an average looking guy.

I raise my hands slightly, trying to show I’m not a threat. “Hey… I’m not here to hurt you.” My voice is hoarse.

She hesitates, then speaks, her voice soft yet sharp. “Are you alone?”

I nod. “Yeah… just me.”

A pause. The wind howls between us. Then she exhales and sits down on the sand. “Same.”

I look around again. No ships, no planes, no humans. Just us.

Two strangers. A famous lost idol and me.

Alone in the middle of nowhere. Wonyoung asks for my name~ "I'm Y/N!" Nice to meet u! We have a handshake.. Her hands feel soft.

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

Pt1:

I take a cautious step closer. “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know. A few hours, maybe. I was on a boat, trying to escape… then everything went wrong.” Wonyoung replies.

I nod. I get it. The war didn’t care who we were, celebrity or nobody, we all ended up fighting for survival.

I sat onto the sand beside her, keeping a respectful distance. My body still aches from the swim, but at least I’m alive. “We should find shelter,” I say, more to myself than her.

Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. She’s staring at the ocean, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nods. “Yeah.”

We explore the island together. It’s small, covered in thick trees, with no sign of civilization. No food, no supplies. If we want to live, we’ll have to find a way ourselves.

We build a shelter from fallen branches near a rocky cliffside, something to protect us from the wind. It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.

I know Wonyoung is feeling hungry, I can hear the sounds from her stomach. She's embarrassed. I hunt for fruits around in the forest and give some off to her. Wonyoung smiles and thanks me for the first time.

As night arrives, we sleep inside the shelter with a distinct position from each other. I can't believe I'm sleeping nearby a famous K-pop idol!

Wonyoung must be a very clean and neat girl. As morning arrives, with no proper shelter, no soap, and no change of clothes, Wonyoung specifically start to feel disgusting. We both only got one outfit for ourselves and its also getting torn apart.

Wonyoung tugs at her damp, dirt-streaked dress, grimacing. “I can’t take this anymore. I feel gross.”

I look down at myself. My clothes are stiff with dried saltwater and sweat. “Yeah, me too.”

She crosses her arms, thinking. “We need to wash them.”

I nod, then realize the problem. “But… if we wash them, we’ll have nothing to wear.”

She sighs. “I know.”

We stand there in awkward silence, both aware of what that means.

“…Maybe we take turns?” I suggest hesitantly.

She gives me a sharp look. “You mean one of us stays naked while the other waits?”

I scratch my head. “I mean… yeah?”

She groans, burying her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

I shrug. “We don’t have a choice. It’s just us here.”

She peeks at me through her fingers. “Still!”

After a long pause, she exhales sharply. “Fine!" “This is so worse!” she mutters.

I chuckle. “At least we’ll be clean.”

She grumbles but doesn’t argue.

And so, in our strange little world, even washing clothes becomes a ridiculous challenge. But somehow, we manage—awkward, embarrassed, but surviving together.

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

But suddenly, it seems Wonyoung has realized survival takes priority over everything else. Embarrassment, modesty—those things start to feel pointless.

To my surprise, Wonyoung just… pulls her dress over her head.

I freeze. My brain short-circuits as the gorgeous Wonyoung directly takes off her clothes near me, her medium sized breasts with pretty pink nipples, a luscious curvy figure that takes my breath away. Her natural scent is divine yet there's a hint of dirt clinging to her perfect skin. Now as soon as she also takes off her smelly and dirty underwear the same time, I see her pussy is hairy, maybe she doesn't shave it often. I keep looking in at her hungrily, finding every aspect of Wonyoung naked incredibly sexy.

She throws her dress and underwear onto a sea, standing now in nothing but her bare skin, completely unbothered. “You should do the same,” she says casually. “It’s just us, anyway.”

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

I swallow hard, staring at the ground now. “Uh… are you sure about this?”

She shrugs. “Why not? Clothes are useless if they’re this filthy. We might as well just stay like this.”

I feel my face burning. “I mean… isn’t that a little—”

She raises an eyebrow. “What? Weird? Embarrassing?” She sighs. “At first, yeah. But think about it—we’re stuck here, just the two of us. Why should we care?”

I can’t argue with that logic. She’s right. There’s no one else. No society. No rules.

Still, I hesitate.

She smirks slightly. “You’re overthinking it.”

I exhale, then slowly pull off my shirt. Then my pants. The air feels strange against my skin, but at the same time… freeing.

Wonyoung smiles. “See? Not so bad.”

And just like that, we accept our fate. No more shame, no more awkwardness—just two survivors, stripped of everything, living in the most natural way possible.

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

As now I'm naked as well, Wonyoung starts to look at my rod standing at attention. I caught her biting her lips and smiling, which I found adorable. She playfully teases, 'I can't help it, it's so…funny!' I blush furiously and retort, 'Hey, don't laugh!'". I'm confused why the heck Wonyoung is laughing at my dick? Maybe she has never seen one before?

"You look funny naked, especially with that thing down standing out of nowhere so hard" Wonyoung teases.

I'm sure Wonyoung knows herself why my dick is hard at the moment. It only get this way when there's a pretty hot girl around. Also the fact, Wonyoung is naked herself too. Wonyoung's stomach makes a noise again, its time for food and we realize we should start hunting for survival.

Yesterday we survived on wild fruits & coconuts, and anything remotely edible that we can scavenge. But soon, we realize that if we want to stay strong, we need real food ~ fish.

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

Wonyoung figures out that if we trap fish in small tidal pools near the shore, we can just grab them with our hands. It’s tricky, but with patience, we manage to catch a few.

Since we don’t have pots or pans, we cook the fish directly over a fire. We create a simple fire pit using dry wood and stones. We skewer the fish on sticks and roast them over the flames until they’re cooked through.

The first bite of was Incredible. We eat in silence, both of us savoring the moment. Wonyoung licks her lips, grinning. “I never thought I’d be this happy just eating a burnt fish.”

I laugh, nodding at her words.

As night falls, the temperature on the island drops, and the once-refreshing breeze turns into a chilling wind. Its getting cold. Yesterday we had our clothes but this morning, upon Wonyoung's idea, I also threw my clothes and we're both naked still.

With no clothes, no blankets, and only a small fire to keep us warm, the cold becomes a real problem.

At first, we try to endure it, huddling close to the fire, wrapping ourselves in large leaves, anything to stay warm. But nothing works.

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

Wonyoung shivers beside me, hugging herself tightly. “This isn’t working,” she mutters, her teeth slightly chattering.

I sigh. I’m freezing too. Then, reluctantly, Wonyoung says, “There’s only one thing we can do.”

I looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

She hesitates. “Body heat. If we stay close, we’ll be warmer.”

I stare her for a second, then exhale, shaking my head. “I can’t believe this…” But then, after another shiver, I mutter, “Fine. But don’t get any ideas. I try to be positive, trying my best to be a gentleman ”

But Wonyoung seems to have something in her mind, she has been trying a little to seduce me even in this kind of survival condition ever since we both got naked.

We move closer, our bare skin pressing together. The warmth is immediate, awkward at first, but undeniable.

She rests her head against my shoulder, her body still tense. “I love this,” she whispers.

Slowly, her body relaxes against mine, and I feel my own muscles easing. The cold doesn’t bite as much anymore.

After a few moments of silence, she sighs. “You’re warm…”

I smirk. “So are you.”

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

Wonyoung hugs me tigher, her chest pressing over mine. I can feel the size of her breasts, I have never grabbed them yet with my hands. I feel so good as well as her skin presses over mine more tightly..

Wonyoung and I can see the full moon together, it looks beautiful.

And just like that, we fall asleep, two survivors, pressed together against the cold, finding warmth in the only way we can.

The next morning, fever hits me suddenly. One moment, I’m fine, tired but fine. My body feels like it’s burning from the inside. My limbs are weak, my vision blurry, and every breath feels heavy.

I collapse near our shelter, barely able to keep my eyes open. Wonyoung rushes over, panic written all over her face.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” She kneels beside me, pressing a hand to my forehead. The moment she touches me, she gasps. “You’re burning up…”

I try to respond, but my throat is dry, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m… just tired…”

She bites her lip, looking around as if searching for a solution. “You’re Sick OH God!!"

Wonyoung has gotten emotional. She swallows hard, taking a shaky breath.

For the first time, I see her cry.

Even in this desperate situation, I hate seeing her like this. I slowly reach out, grabbing her trembling hand. “Hey… I’m not dead yet.” I try to smile, but even that takes too much effort.

She sniffles and squeezes my hand tightly. “You better not die,” she whispers. “I can’t be alone here.”

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

That night, Wonyoung stays by my side, cooling my forehead with wet leaves, giving me water, whispering words of reassurance even when she thinks I’m asleep.

And in my fevered haze, I realize something—she’s not just the famous girl I once admired from afar. She’s not just my survival partner. She might be someone special in my life.

The fever doesn’t break overnight, that day Wonyoung does all the job, cooking the fishes and finding survival resources. My body feels weak, my head heavy, and every movement sends waves of exhaustion through me. But Wonyoung never leaves my side.

She brings me water from the stream, carefully tilting a coconut shell to my lips. “Drink,” she murmurs. Her voice is soft but firm, her eyes filled with worry.

I manage a few sips before resting my head back down. “Thanks…” I whisper.

She sighs, brushing my damp hair back. “You’re burning up.”

That night, as the cold wind howls through our shelter, Wonyoung presses herself against me, wrapping her arms around my body. “This should help,” she whispers. “You need warmth.”

I’m too weak to argue, and honestly, her body heat is comforting. She rests her head against my chest, holding me close. She takes care of my body.

At some point, I groan, my muscles aching all over.

She notices immediately. “Does it hurt?”

I nod weakly.

Without hesitation, she shifts, her delicate hands moving to my shoulders. Slowly, gently, she starts massaging me, her fingers pressing into my tense muscles. She also gave me a handjob at the middle. I don’t even know if I should count it as lewd since we have been naked together and staying like this for 2 days already, but this is the first time she grabbed my dick with her hands.

“Relax,” she whispers. “You always do everything for us. Just let me take care of you.”

Her hands move down my arms, across my back, easing the knots of pain. Her touch is soft but firm, careful yet reassuring.

For the first time in days, I feel a little better.

I close my eyes, letting her warmth, her touch, her presence lull me into much-needed rest.

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

Wonyoung asks, “Do you think the war is over?”

I exhale, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

She stares at the horizon. “What if… no one is left?”

I glance at her. “What do you mean?”

She hugs herself tighter. “Last time we saw the world… there were nukes being launched. Countries were falling apart. If the war is over, does that mean someone won? Or does it mean no one is left to fight anymore?”

A heavy silence falls between us. The thought is terrifying, but not impossible.

I swallow. “Even if there are survivors, do you think anyone would look for us? We’re on some random, uncharted island. We don’t even know if this place is on any map.”

Wonyoung’s expression darkens. “We could be doomed.”

I don’t want to believe that. But deep down, I know she might be right.

She rests her head on my shoulder. “It’s just us now,” she whispers.

I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Then we survive. No matter what.”

“But if we are the only ones left…” Wonyoung hesitates. “Should we… you know… repopulate?”

The word hangs in the air, heavier than anything we’ve ever spoken before.

I swallow hard. “You’re asking if we should have kids?”

She nods slowly. “It’s what humans do, right? Continue the species.”

The idea makes sense, logically. But something about it feels too real.

I exhale. “That’s a big decision.”

She glances at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. “I know. But if the world is gone… doesn’t that mean we’re responsible for rebuilding it?”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to process. “It’s not just about responsibility. We’d be bringing a child into a world with no hospitals, no medicine, no help. It’d be dangerous.”

She bites her lip, thinking. “Yeah… but if we don’t, then when we die, that’s it. The end of humanity.”

Silence. The fire crackles between us.

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

Pt2:

Wonyoung finally sighs, shaking her head. “Maybe I’m overthinking.”

After some while, Wonyoung asks, "Do you want some special comfort?"

Without understanding what special comfort she meant, I nodded yes.

Wonyoung winks and positioned her face between my legs. Her hands reach up to gently caress my thighs, sending shivers through my body. Leaning in slowly, I suddenly feel her pink tongue extends and swirls around the tip of my dick. A soft gasp escapes her as she tastes me, her eyes never leaving mine. She takes the head into her warm, inviting mouth.

I feel my full length inside her mouth. I finally realized Wonyoung is giving me a blowjob already. Wonyoung pulls back a bit. She grins, still stroking me gently. "Mmm…you like that y/n?" She teases before taking me deep again, bobbing her head with purpose now.

"Wonyoung, are you serious right now? You're a famous idol… I can't believe ur doing this!?!" I say.

Wonyoung replies, "Well, I don't think there's anyone left in the world. We should start reproducing already!." She continues taking my length more inside her mouth.

I realize Wonyoung must be feeling emotional, and that I'm the only person in her life now. It doesn't matter if I'm attractive or not.

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

Wonyoung is absolutely magnificent as she works to please me with her lips and tongue. Her tongue dances against the sensitive under side of my dick each time I hit the back of her mouth. She gazes up at me with desire, her cheeks hollowing as she takes me deeper still. Every flick, suck and lick from Wonyoung feels heavenly, it's clear she was made for this. I can't hold back my cries of pleasure - "Oh wow, Wonyoung please stop, you are amazing at this!"

Wiping a strand of saliva from her chin after she finishes sucking my rod, Wonyoung sits up and spreads her legs wide. Her thick bush of dark hair beckons me forward. "Alright, enough pleasing you. I want the same feeling as well. Mind eating my hairy pussy now?" she commands.

"Are you serious? But I'm sick!" I reply to her command.

"Oh right", Wonyoung pauses, a look of determination crossing her face. "Can't stand or return the favor hmm?" She grins slyly. "No problem, I can adapt." She positions herself above me, her beautiful eyes twinkling. "Here, I'll just…sit right down."

And with that, Wonyoung lowers herself, her vertical lips parting as she envelops my face in her warmth. I feel her weight settle on my face as she slowly sits on my face, her pussy hair tickling my nose.

I get flashbacks of watching Wonyoung's performance through my screen at home last year before the war started. It's exactly that same ass! Now that ass is about to be buried all over my face.

As Wonyoung lowers herself onto me fully, I am enveloped by her feminine heat and scent from her ass… She is totally face sitting on me.. Wonyoung is now riding my face!

Eager to please, I decide to really explore Wonyoung's shithole. Gently I spread her ass cheeks further apart, gazing at her tight little bud. I push my tongue forward deep, pushing more deep into Wonyoung's most intimate place. Inside her anus, my tongue meets warm, velvety smooth walls that grip me gently. A faint musky scent fills my senses as I wiggle and stroke within her sensitive rim.

My tongue inside her asshole is absorbing up every sticky morsel. The taste is intense, earthy and undeniably naughty. I delve deeper, driven by an urge to clean every inch of her filthy depths.

Her inner walls clench and grip my probing tongue as I feel the wet, dirty texture inside her tight little shithole. It's a decadent mess inside here. Oh fuck, Am I really eating her wet messy holes as she commands?

Shee gasps but then urges me, "Deeper...stick your tongue in!".

I oblige, slowly working my tongue.

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

Her ass shakes over my head with a playful excitement from taking in charge, she still asks teasingly, "Is OK?"

I nod, surrendering to pleasure her. My tongue extends, lapping up her slick nectar. She tastes divine. I feel her move, grinding against my mouth harder. She shifts a bit and my tongue finds her hairy wet pussy, making her bite her lip and smile wider.

I eagerly lap up every drop of her juices, my tongue tracing her folds and circling her engorged clit. I suck the bud into my mouth, flicking it while my hands press against her thighs for balance. Wonyoung gasps, riding my face harder. I insert my tongue as deep as it will go inside her within her wetness.

Wonyoung grinds down harder, inviting me to continue. I oblige, gently probing at her holes with more intention now. The salty-sweet taste of mixing her essence on my tongue drives me wild. Wonyoung cries out, clearly enjoying using me completely.

"Mmm…you're so good with that tongue, I just can't resist returning the favor!" Wonyoung cries. She leans down, taking my throbbing length back into her mouth. Now our bodies form a delightfully lewd 69 position - me eating her treasure while she continues to suck me off.

Her hips move in a sensual rhythm, grinding her wetness all over my face as I feel the base of my shaft hit her throat each time she takes me deep.

Our 69 is smooth and rhythmic now, both of us falling into it as the ecstasy builds. My tongue works her clit in firm circles while I thrust my tongue as deep as possible into her tight back doorway. Wonyoung's mouth moves expertly along my shaft, her lips sealed tight.

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

Just when I think it can't get more intense, I feel a warm fluid against my chin and mouth. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Wonyoung cries out. But I don't pull back - I simply extend my tongue, catching her pee with every skillful lick. She trembles above me as she finishes, spent. A mixture of her fluids coats my face but I don't mind one bit, still savoring her completely.

Against my will, I'm forced to drink down her warm, tangy urine. It's strong and acrid on my tongue but I obediently swallow, NOT wanting to displease Wonyoung. She seems shy now, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Here, let me make it better." She whispers. Wonyoung begins gently licking my face with her soft, pink tongue. She methodically cleans every inch, the bitter taste slowly fading. When she reaches my lips she takes me into her mouth again, our tongues meeting. She swallows some of her own urine back from my mouth as we have a mouthful french kiss. Her eyes closed, slipping her tongue into my mouth. There it mixes with my saliva too, a lewd, taboo French kiss. When she finally breaks the kiss, her eyes search mine - a mix of apology and invitation.

She again engages me in a deep and soulful kiss. Wonyoung breaks the kiss, her eyes glinting with newfound desire. She stands up now. "I hope you can forgive me," she purrs before sitting over my shaft. Wonyoung positions herself now ready to ride my dicm. "Now fuck me…fuck me hard, its time for reproduction already! Forget the humanity outside! Theres no one left!" she screams.

She cries out as I claim her. I watch my rod disappearing between her thighs, feeling her walls tighten around me. "Yes, that's it!, Oh my god I can't believe I'm having my first time!" Wonyoung moans as she rides my dick hard. Our bodies connect with a primal rhythm as I punish her core. I know I won't last long after that intense buildup. "Don't stop!" she gasps, pulling me deeper. I'm determined to satisfy us both.

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

Tears spring to her eyes but she keeps crying out "Yes yes yes!".. Wonyoung is literally screaming and riding me at the middle of the island. We don’t know what's happening outside in the real world. But here, it seems we both are actually enjoying. Birds and insects are watching us fuck in the silent island. The island is full of her screams and cries in pleasure.

Wonyoung starts bouncing on my rod harder. Each deep thrust draws out prolonged, wailing cries from Wonyoung's lips: "AHH! AHHH PLEASE!". Wonyoung leans down upon my mouth for a kiss now.

She breathes, "You're taking me so well", "but I'm not nearly done with you yet until u cum inside me."

Wonyoung's forcefully kisses me deep and moans. "Ahh, please, I can't.. Cum already.!" she cries desperately, a mix of fear and excitement in her voice.

Wonyoung screams again, her voice rising in pitch as I cum inside her "OOOOHHH!"

Wonyoung feels the sticky white cum fill inside her. Its a big load. She still continues riding, but now Wonyoung feels something tear inside her… "You…you tore me," she whispers, eyes wide.

I push her away from my dick, I see a mess down in her pussy. Its full of my sperm and cum, her insides must have broken and torn apart since its her first time. "It hurts but we succeeded. I'm probably finally pregnant!." Wonyoung cries.

I get emotional too. I hug Wonyoung, and as she hugs me back, we hold each other with love, and I can feel her warmth and heartbeat. Inside Wonyoung is a complex mix of emotions and physical sensations.

I can't believe it, did I actually breed Wonyoung, the most popular K-pop girl? This feels so real, it’s definitely not a dream! Yes, thats right! If I and Wonyoung are really the only humans left, the next world generation will be descendants of us!

[greengoblinswifey]

More than Friends

pairing— brother’s bsf!nicholas chavez x fem!reader

summary— you’ve always had a secret crush on Nicholas, your brother’s best friend and your childhood friend. when he invites you to his show’s premiere, long-buried feelings finally surface, and you face what’s been growing between you all these years.

warnings— friends to lovers, loss of virginity, jealous!nicholas, oral, unprotected sex(don’t let a 🥷🏿 fuck you without one) , fingering, praise kink, fluff, aftercare.

a/n— requests are open <3

You had known Nicholas Chavez for as long as you could remember. He’d been your brother’s best friend since the early days, which naturally made him a big part of your life, too. He was only three years older, but there’d always been a distinct gap, he was your older brother's cool best friend, the one you looked up to, even if you’d never admit it out loud. There was something about him, though, that always lingered in the back of your mind, a pull you couldn't quite name but always felt.

Growing up, you and Nicholas shared a special bond, separate from his friendship with your brother. You’d go out together, always managing to find matching clothes or even wearing identical rings. “Twins,” he’d joke, holding up his hand to show the ring you had given him on his birthday. It was simple and unassuming, but every time you glanced at it, there was an unspoken tension that lay just beneath the surface, neither of you daring to bring it up.

But as the years went by, things changed. Nicholas landed a role on Monsters and Grotesquerie, the TV shows that catapulted him to fame, and it wasn’t long before his life was full of red carpets and late-night shoots. He was often away, and you’d find yourself scrolling through TikTok edits of him when he was too busy to FaceTime. Everyone on social media couldn’t stop talking about how attractive he was, how lucky any girl would be to date him. A knot would twist in your stomach every time you saw those comments, jealousy mixing with a feeling you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Whenever he did have a moment to breathe, he’d reach out, sometimes posting photos of the two of you together on his stories. His fans would flock to your profile, leaving jealous comments or speculating if you were more than just childhood friends. One time, you’d posted a shot of your hand with his, each of you wearing those same rings from years ago. Fans had gone wild, and your brother hadn’t missed it, either, throwing you a suspicious glance when he’d noticed.

One day, he called you out of the blue with a proposition: he wanted you to be his plus-one for the premiere of Monsters. You’d agreed, trying to keep your excitement in check, though a part of you hoped this might finally be the moment when something would shift between you.

The night of the premiere, you could hardly believe it was happening. The cameras flashed as Nicholas introduced you to his co-stars and other industry people, and people couldn’t stop asking if the two of you were together. Each time, though, he’d shake his head with a soft laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders and saying, “Nah, she’s like my little sister. We grew up together. It’s nothing like that.”

The words cut deeper than you’d expected. It wasn’t until that moment, standing beside him under the bright lights, that you realized you were in love with him. Maybe you had been for a long time.

It hurt, watching him play it off as though your bond meant nothing more than childhood nostalgia, knowing he would never see you the way you wanted him to.

He turned to you at one point, noticing your silence. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet tonight.”

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just, taking it all in, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking like he didn’t quite believe you, but he let it go, just pulling you closer for a photo.

At the after-party, you decided to let loose a bit. Nicholas was busy mingling, so when Cooper Koch found you, you didn’t hold back. With a mischievous grin, you allowed yourself to dance, feeling free as you moved with Cooper, who, to your surprise, didn’t seem to mind the attention either. You leaned in, laughing as the music pulsed around you, and let your body fall into rhythm with his.

Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back, breaking the spell. “What the hell was that?” Nicholas’s voice was low, his eyes narrowed as he stared at you. He looked annoyed, even... jealous?

“I was just having fun, Nick. It’s a party,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly, though your heart was racing.

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you, and after a tense silence, muttered, “Whatever.” Then he ignored you for the rest of the night.

In response, you doubled down, laughing a little too loudly with Cooper and reaching for his hand as you leaned against him. You could feel Nicholas’s eyes on you now and then, but he kept his distance.

When the party finally ended, you were a bit tipsy, and walking in heels felt like a challenge. Nicholas was by your side in an instant, his arm slipping under your shoulders. "Come on," he muttered, guiding you out. The car ride back was quiet, filled with tension you could almost taste.

Once you reached his place, he carried you to the guest room, careful but intense, his gaze meeting yours with each step. He laid you down gently on the bed, eyes dark as they flicked from your face to your lips. For a moment, he lingered, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and kissed him.

The kiss was electric, and he leaned into it, his hands moving instinctively, pulling you closer. But just as quickly, he pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. Not with you. I can’t do that to your brother.��

You looked at him, a mix of hurt and defiance swirling in your eyes. Before he could say more, you slipped out of your dress, revealing the delicate lace you wore underneath. His breath hitched, and his eyes traveled over you, unable to tear away. "Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair before lowering himself back down, his lips meeting yours again, more desperate this time.

“Forget everything I said,” he whispered against your skin.

Nicholas's fingers slipped down, finding your pussy wet and eager, his touch precise as he stroked and teased you. He rubbed your clit slowly, staring into your eyes, the moment was intimate and everything you ever dreamed of. His thumb rubbed your clit as he slipped his finger inside you and you felt like the world around you ceased to exist. The pleasure built until you couldn't hold back, your body arching as he pushed you over the edge. You lay there, breathing heavily, and as he leaned back, your words broke through the haze between you.

"Nicholas, I'm a virgin," you confessed softly, your cheeks flushing as his eyes widened.

Nicholas looked down at you, visibly stunned, his voice a little rough. "Wait, you're a virgin? But, what about your exes? I thought—"

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, two boyfriends, but my brother scared them off from anything serious. And, honestly, they just weren’t, the right one." You met his gaze, your hand reaching for his. "But you are, Nicholas. I want this. I want it to be you."

He hesitated, taking in your words, the sincerity in your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek, still searching for reassurance.

You nodded, your answer clear in the warmth of your expression.

He leaned down, pressing gentle kisses along your body, his touch reverent and careful. As he moved lower, he whispered, “I want to make this good for you.” His mouth pressed against your sensitive clit, eyes never leaving yours as he tasted you slowly, purposefully, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from you until you finally came, breathless.

You reached out to his clothed cock to help him, but he shook his head, a smile curving his lips. “Tonight’s about you pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice warm and low. “This is your first time, and I want to make sure it’s perfect. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that carried a weight of its own. The two of you sat close, the low lighting casting soft shadows across his face. Nicholas had been your friend for years, practically family, and yet, right now, that familiar face held a depth you hadn’t seen before.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek, a touch he'd offered countless times in comfort or friendship, but this time, he lingered, his thumb tracing the delicate line of your cheekbone. Your breath caught, the air thickening between you. The words tumbled from his lips, barely above a whisper, as if he feared breaking the fragile tension. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, heart pounding, and took his hand, intertwining your fingers as if grounding yourself in the moment. “I’ve waited so long, Nick.” He swallowed, his gaze steady, the quiet weight of everything unspoken passing between you.

With a hint of humor to ease your nerves, you took in the sight of him, and your eyes widened. “That’s gonna go inside me?” you said, slightly stunned. He chuckled softly, with a smirk that was all confidence and warmth. “It’ll fit. I’ll make it fit.”

He placed your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Just say the word if it’s too much, and I’ll stop.”

Every step was deliberate, every touch gentle as he moved slowly, his focus entirely on you. He watched your face, the slightest changes in your expression, waiting for any sign of discomfort. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as your grip tightened around his fingers. Each small movement was slow, careful, his whispered reassurances grounding you.

You gasped, and he immediately stilled, eyes scanning your face. “Everything okay?” His tone was soft, a mixture of concern and patience. A shaky breath left your lips, and you nodded, steadying yourself as his gentle encouragement filled the space between you.

“I’ve always loved you, you know that, right?” you whispered, almost afraid to say the words out loud. He hovered just inches from your face, his lips brushing against yours as he replied with a smile that held years of unspoken emotions. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice soft and warm. “I think I always have too, I was just too scared to admit it.”

Nicholas stayed close, his hand finding yours as he moved slowly, stretching you and practically reaching your cervix before whispering, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, breathless. “Yes Nicholas, please, don't stop.”

He chuckled softly, eyes full of adoration as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “You're taking me so well,” he murmured, his voice warm and encouraging. “I knew you would.” His words and steady movements built you up again until you came all over his thick cock, your body clenching around him as he held you close, grounding you with gentle praise.

“That's it, beautiful, let go for me,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder and neck. When your breathing slowed, he gently flipped you onto your stomach, his touch delicate as he continued, tracing kisses along your shoulders and down your back. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you felt the tension building again, his whispered words filling you with warmth and reassurance.

With one final thrust, he groaned, spilling onto your back, then smiled, tracing his fingers along your spine. “You’ve always had the most perfect ass,” he teased, making you laugh as you both caught your breath.

Afterward, he was attentive and gentle, cleaning you up carefully, checking in with soft words and brushing stray hair out of your face. “Are you okay baby? Did I hurt you at all?”

You shook your head, a peaceful smile spreading across your face. “No. You were perfect, Nick.”

He climbed into bed beside you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close, pressing gentle kisses along your face, your nose, your eyelids, and murmuring, “You’ve always been mine. I just, didn’t know how to tell you.” His fingers traced patterns along your back as he held you, letting the night settle around you both.

In his embrace, with his whispered reassurances, you felt safe, warm, and exactly where you’d always belonged. He was finally yours.

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

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“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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taglist: @mochminnie @lovingyeet @sassy-cat-in-town @hanachiiii @aise-30 @reivelmin @fcheung750 @breaddippedinorangejuice @lunaryasha @imsimping4life @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @f1uveryysblog @random-3455 @b3e-sat0 @retaaaa56 @casualburning

[vampzity]

pretty tears | BC

★ DAY THREE : DACRYPHILIA WITH BANGCHAN ★

pairing: husband! bangchan x f! reader

did you really think it was a good idea to bug your lovely boyfriend at a sophisticated dinner of all places? to think that you’d actually get away with it just because he can’t react then and there? you’d be extremely mistaken. he’ll show you exactly what whining and teasing gets you— in fact, he’ll have you whining at his mercy.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, literally no plot, dacryphilia, dom bangchan x brat reader, slight spanking, rough unprotected sex, cursing, pet names (slut, whore, baby, babygirl), hair pulling, some fluff at the end, chan is a whole different person in bed

word count: 1.7k

“I’m sure Bangchan buys you all the finest jewelry, isn’t that right?”

You raised your eyebrows smugly, glancing at Bangchan’s “you better not” look. You smiled at him, taking a sip from your glass.

“Well it has been a little long since I’ve received any jewelry.. you would know, right Channie?”

You bat your lashes at him, watching as his face turned red from embarrassment. Some of the guest at the table snickered, others staying silent at your response. You didn’t mean anything rude from it, in fact you knew the reason why you haven’t received anything from Bangchan in some time. You didn’t care for the jewelry or expensive gifts, as his love was enough to hold you over, but boy did you love to play with him like a toy.

Only because you knew what it would get you later on.

“Baby, you know why I haven’t..” he turned to look at you, holding your hand under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. Chan gave a hesitant smile to the group, soon moving his hand to your thigh and giving it a tight squeeze.

“Why it shouldn’t be hard to provide for your lady. You make more than enough to sustain the both of you.”

You looked up at Chan’s right hand man in the business world, crossing your arms and nodding. Bangchan gritted his teeth, his nails digging into your thigh as you struggled to now hold back a yelp of pain.

“I say, treat her to something lovely, something containing 18 carat gold, with a pretty rock in the middle.” The younger looked at the woman next to him, admiring her beauty.

“As I always say, nothing but the best for my wife.”

Bangchan stood up from the dinner table, grabbing your coat and pulling you out of the chair. You furrowed your eyebrows at his sudden change in character, getting up from your seat.

“Well it has certainly been a nice evening with you all.” He helped you put on your jacket. “I’ll see you Monday, yeah?”

He waved goodbye to everyone, dragging you out of the house silently. He opened the car door for you, still nothing but silence between the two of you. You both sat in the car for a moment, allowing the quiet of night to engulf you two before you spoke.

“Did I upset you Channie? You know I was only joking, right?”

You ran your fingers across his cheek, making him turn away from you as he started the car. He refused eye contact with you, driving away from the house without saying another word to you.

“And I’m sure you know by now that this bratty behavior doesn’t reward.”

— ✧⁂✬ —

You both walked into your shared bedroom, Chan taking off his blazer and setting it aside in on the desk. He was still silent as ever even after what felt like the longest car ride of your life.

You kicked off your heels and placed them in the closet, turning around to be met with Chan right in front of you. You met his eyes as they were filled with both lust and rage. Bangchan was always good with hiding his emotions around others, especially when you were the cause of them, but being alone with you was a different story.

“Bed. Now.”

Your breath hitched for a moment, feeling a cool chill run up your back. His face was stern and cold, but it wasn’t unfamiliar to you. Bangchan never appreciated your brattiness, especially not in front of others, but boy did he love to put you in your place for it. You were sure that he knew you enjoyed it as well.

“Or what, I’m not scared of you Channie.” you crossed your arms, smugging as he furrowed his eyebrows.

He grabbed you by the waist, pushing you toward the bed and bending you over. His hands slipped beneath your skirt, attempting to rip your panties off only to find that you had a thong on. Bangchan sighed, pulling your skirt up just enough to show your bare ass to him.

“You fucking slut.” he gritted his teeth, smacking his hand against your ass. You yelped out in pleasure, hands gripped at the bedsheets as he fondled with your ass.

“Wearing this little thing for me? You must want me to mess up this pretty pussy of yours, yeah?”

Another rough smack rippled through the room, leaving a tingling sensation against your skin. He grabbed your hair, pulling you up to meet his level. He smirked at your painful expression, his other hand rubbing your reddened skin.

“Not so bratty now, huh? What happened to that necklace you wanted so badly?”

You attempted to turn your head away, only for Chan’s grip to tighten. You hissed in response, your cunt already leaking in arousal from how rough he was with you.

“Maybe if you’re good for me, I’ll think about getting you one.” he looked at your bare ass, tilting his head.

“What did he say? 18 carat? With a pretty rock?”

He let go of your hair, undoing the buckle to his pants and pulling them down with ease. He pressed his bulge against your ass, groaning softly as his hands squeezed your skin. You moaned quietly as he pressed himself against your clothed folds.

He pulled your thong off, letting it drop to your ankles and soon pulling out his cock. He rubbing his tip against your folds, throwing his head back at how wet you were.

“Since you wanna be a brat,” he shoved his dick into you without warning, watching as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Why don’t we get you begging over that necklace, hm?”

He pulled your hands behind your back, holding them down as he rammed into your aching cunt. Your whimpers filled the room, unable to get a break as he grazed your sweet spot over and over. Your face dug into the bed, letting out countless cries of pleasure as Chan manhandled you.

“Channie, fuck!”

His nails dug into your waist as he held you tightly, slamming into you with no remorse. He left go of your hands and grabbed onto your hair once again, pulling you back against him. You winced in pain as Chan came down to your level, kissing your temple softly as he continued to fuck you.

“You like that, baby? Huh?”

A loud smack rippled against the walls, your asscheek tingling once again. You yelped in pleasure, nodding your head as tears began to spill down your cheeks. You moaned aloud, not even caring to wipe the tears that ran down your face.

“Aw look at you, not so bratty anymore hm?”

He kissed your tears, pulling out of you and flipping you onto your back. You met his lustful eyes, a good kind of fear instilling within you as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He rubbed the head of his dick softly against your folds, groaning as his tip leaked. He leaned forward, kissing you gently before pushing himself back into you without warning.

“Gonna fill you so good..” his thrusts grew hastily with every push. “You’re so pretty when you cry baby.”

He leaned over your body as he fucked you roughly. His eyes piercing into you like a knife while he watched your helpless tears escape you. A smug smile painted his face as he held your arms above your head.

“Whose pussy is this, hm?” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Answer me when I talk to you, yeah? You know how I feel about you disrespecting me.”

He threw his head back and groaned as his tip grazed your sweet spot. You could barely take him in, let alone when he fucked you this roughly. All because you wanted to embarrass him in front of guests.

“Yours, it’s yours!

Chan smiled at you, his thumb coming down to rub against your clit softly. You let out a deep moan, back arching as he never stopped his harsh movements inside of you. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as your climax reached an all time high, suddenly rushing over your body and spilling all over his cock.

“Fuck, baby.” he threw his head back, holding your legs up as he pounded into you.

Tears continued to escape you as you begging him to slow down, but unfortunately for you he was too close to stop now. His thrusts got faster, harder as he felt his own high approaching, desperate to release into you. His hands dug into your thighs as you whimpered, small marks being left on your skin as a reminder of the behavior that earned you this type of treatment.

“Gonna, gonna cum.”

He leaned closer to your body, his head burrowed in your neck as his final thrusts were aggressive. A loud groan left his mouth as he released himself into you, pumping his dick into you a few more times to make sure you were stuffed. He kissed your neck gently, wiping the stained tears from your cheeks as his body came down from his high.

He gently pulled out of you, kissing your stomach softly as he pulled your skirt back down. He fixed himself up and sat next to your limp body, his hand rubbing your thigh.

“You learn your lesson, baby?” you looked up at him with doe eyes, nodding quietly as the last of your sniffles came. Chan smiled at you, ruffling your hair and getting up.

“Good. Want me to start a warm bath for you?”

You met his kindhearted eyes, the ones you adored just as much as his piercing ones. You smiled and nodded, playing with the hem of your skirt. Chan took you by the hand, guiding you to the bathroom and helped you undress as the water ran. Once you sat in the tub, he offered to wash you up, also bringing you some company while you relaxed.

“Thank you Channie.”

He kissed your forehead softly as he grabbed a warm towel for you, laying it on his lap as you laid in the water.

“Anything for my babygirl.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: OUU railway still has the craziest chokehold on me to this day man… neways 🌝

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology

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[atlabeth]

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. 

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad. 

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him. 

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion. 

Why? 

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him. 

But he did. 

For you. 

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn. 

So much for not being obvious. 

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least. 

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him. 

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you. 

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says. 

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.” 

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?” 

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.” 

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.” 

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said. 

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!” 

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?” 

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!” 

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him. 

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.” 

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns. 

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown. 

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

-

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it. 

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own. 

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with. 

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly. 

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.” 

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.” 

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—” 

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this. 

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.” 

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”) 

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean. 

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you. 

The thought crossed your mind more often than not. 

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not. 

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day. 

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under. 

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms. 

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment. 

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out. 

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond. 

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly. 

“Can I come in?” 

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?” 

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says. 

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.” 

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper. 

“And?” 

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.” 

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?” 

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.” 

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance. 

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.” 

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.” 

“Maybe I just like silence.” 

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.” 

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel. 

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—” 

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad. 

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.” 

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you. 

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU. 

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable. 

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical. 

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—” 

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself. 

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?” 

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.” 

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?” 

“Which one do you want?” 

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.” 

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill. 

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.” 

He shrugs. “Why not start now?” 

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?” 

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back. 

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?” 

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says. 

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap. 

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?” 

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.” 

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?” 

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.” 

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.” 

You scoff. “I do not.” 

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.” 

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.” 

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks. 

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.” 

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.” 

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks. 

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.” 

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—” 

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut. 

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?” 

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says. 

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.” 

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.” 

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.” 

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.” 

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have. 

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid. 

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.” 

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?” 

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.” 

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.” 

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.” 

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.  

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.” 

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.” 

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.” 

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?” 

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.” 

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.” 

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.” 

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.” 

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.” 

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?” 

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.” 

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.” 

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.” 

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.” 

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?” 

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask. 

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.” 

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.” 

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.” 

You laugh. “Part of our truce.” 

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.” 

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while. 

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.” 

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.” 

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.” 

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.” 

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse. 

“Does our truce include this?” 

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave. 

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.” 

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat. 

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze. 

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed. 

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable. 

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax. 

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it. 

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight. 

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

She’s Not So Little Anymore

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: none, dad Lewis yes pls

“You’re not leaving the house until you change your clothes!”

“But dad-“ Harper stammered in a broken voice and teary eyes.

“There’s no but, I said what I said. You can go out with your friends after you put some clothes on. End of discussion.” Lewis told his daughter sternly before turning and heading towards the living room.

“I hate you!!” Harper growled bursting into tears and slamming the door of her room.

“Don’t slam the door at me!” He said in a raised tone. Sitting on the couch he sighed and rubbed his face feeling awful because of the argument between him and his fifteen-year-old daughter.

It was not natural for Lewis to yell and get into heated arguments with his daughter. The two have always had a special relationship - she was daddy's little girl for whom he would remove the stars from the sky just to make her happy. Harper loved and was just as close to you as she was to Lewis, but still, her daddy has always been her number one.

But since Harper entered her teenage phase, it has become very difficult for Lewis to accept that she is actually growing up, that she is changing, that she is interested in some other things that are actually normal for her age.

He really was having a hard time facing the fact that his little girl is not so little anymore. That’s why often broke out arguments between the two of them when Harper would stay out too late with her friends, when she would come home late or mention that she had a crush on a boy or for example like today when she would wear something that Lewis thought was too revealing.

Lewis did all this because he loves her too much and wants to protect her, but, of course, the teenager thinks that her father is working against her and that he is "purposely ruining her life".

Fortunately, not long after the argument, you came back from grocery shopping and found Lewis sitting on the couch looking at the switched off TV.

“Hi, baby” You greeted him happily, but you felt a strange energy in the air.

“Hey” He muttered not turning to look at you.

“Is everything okay?” You ask suspiciously, leaving the heavy bags on the hallway floor.

“Everything is fine except our daughter just told me she hates me”

You immediately knew what it was about. You were aware of how much it affected Lewis. You weren't always happy with some of your daughter's behaviors either, but you understood that it was just a phase and that it would pass, but you also understood that it was difficult for Lewis to face it.

You sighed walking up closer to the couch to Lewis from behind and bent down to wrap your arms around him.

“And that is why?” You asked pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Because she thinks it’s normal to leave the house wearing a short ass dress that doesn’t even have any straps God forbid some sleeves” He says visibly upset and you can’t help but chuckle at him. “That’s not funny, y/n?”

“That’s not, but you are” You say making yourself comfortable in his lap. “You’re being too overprotective of her-“

“Of course I’m overprotective of her, she’s my little girl!” He cuts you off trying to justify his actions.

“Would you let me finish, please?”

“I’m sorry..”

“She’s no longer a little girl, Lew. You have to make your peace with that. Sometimes I don't like her clothing choices or her behavior either, but that's why we're here to guide her. But you forbid her too many things and she sees it as you trying to control her.”

“I just..” He sighs leaning his head against your chest. “I just want to protect her.. I miss the time when she was with me non-stop. We used to do so many things together now she only wants to hang out with her friends.”

“Baby, that’s normal. If it were any different, we would have been worried.” You assure him putting your hands on his cheeks. “You’re still her number one, you’ll always be.”

“Youe ability to calm me down amazes me.” He smiles at your soothing and comforting words. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you more than you know.”

“I love you too, baby” You place a soft kiss on his lips. “Now go and talk to her”

Lewis immediately got up and headed towards Harper's room while you decided to sort the groceries you had brought into the house a little while ago.

“My princess?” Lewis said gently knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”

Almost the same second, the door opened revealing crying Harper who was still sobbing. What Lewis didn't expect was for Harper to give him a tight hug and start crying in his arms.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Lewis asked a little worried.

“Because you made me say that I hate you. And I don’t hate you, daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.” She cried. It stung her as much as it stung Lewis because Harper is aware of how special her relationship with her father is.

“Baby, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m sorry too.” He comforted her rubbing her back. “I don’t like when we can’t talk things out and I hate when we argue. We don’t do that, that’s not us.”

“I know we don’t do that. I don’t like it either” She said quietly.

“It’s hard for me to accept that you’re growing up and that you are no longer my little girl.” He lifts up her head to look at her. “I promise to try to be more understanding of your wishes.”

“Daddy, I’m always gonna be your little girl.” Her words warmed Lewis's heart. She knew what she meant by that. The love Harper has for her dad will always be strong and special and nothing can ever replace it. Lewis was grinning like a child thinking how he is the luckiest man in the world to have the two best girls in his life, Harper and you.