#So this wasn't really all that spicy but the implications are there.

[puckish-rogue-archive-deux]

So, I promised another hc last week that was gonna be all about Django's weird thing with possessiveness and all that. Not sure if it'll be as spicy and blunt as the last thing I posted. But I'll still throw it under a read more in case of anything. Enjoy!

It shouldn't be a surprise that Django highly values personal freedom given what he had gone through in life. He hates being chained down. He hates the idea of having to bow down to someone else. He hates feeling like his life is in the hands of another, and the he has absolutely no say in it whatsoever. It's a disgusting position to be in, and he will fight tooth and nail to go against the very concept itself.

So of course it would come off as strange to find out he actually enjoys the idea of someone being a bit possessive of him. This idea of being desired, of being wanted so much excites him. He craves it. Some of that is probably an ego thing, for sure. But I like to think that deep down inside, Django simply wants to be needed in one way or another. I think most people can relate to that. It's fairly normal, no? Though in his case, I think it's much more intense than what we would normally think of.

Mind you, this isn't something that Django would easily fall into with just about anyone. He needs to feel some level of comfort around a person before he allows any of that to bubble up to the surface. Though, something else that needs to be pointed out alongside that is Django's willingness to submit. I joke about it a lot, but he really is more than happy to become someone's glorified lap dog provided they're someone who he feels a level of comfort with/a connection towards. And at times it doesn't exactly have to be that deep. He is a simple man. He has his needs.

Devotion is strong with this one. I've always said that he can be loyal to a fault, and that remains true with anyone who might be his partner. The willingness to comply and submit himself entirely (mind, body, and soul) to a person who he feels something towards can be so intense. But that's just who he is at his very core. A man whose emotions burn greatly and so passionately, that you can't describe it as anything else but pious.

[delulustateofmind]

JJK x Reader: I wanna get you pregnant!

Not in the way that you think! 

Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, and special guest….Yuki! 

TW: Pure fluff/Crack, Use of Pet names, reader in majority of my fics is a non sorcerer (to make it more reader like, y’know?), Sexual implications: Spanking, sex, use of toys (mentioned if you squint) Yuki is feeling spicy. 

A/n: My husband absolutely despises me when I ask if I can get him pregnant. Why have such a nice ass? If I cannot breed? Such a cruel world :( 

Satoru- Ah hoho, sexy time? 

You sent him one little text:

"Hey baby! ❤️ Let’s get you pregnant! :))) I’m ovulating!”

Satoru, ever the over-eager husband, misread it completely. In fact, he practically sprinted from grading papers all the way home, like the little lovesick husband he was. By the time he stepped through the front door, he was already loosening his belt, eyes bright with a singular focus.

“My sweet little pookie, where are you? I am totally ready to breed your cute ass!” he called out in a sing-song voice, finally tracking you down in the bedroom, where you were lounging, giggling over some fanfiction SMAU—whatever that was.

"Baby," he repeated, bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement, almost feral, "I am here to knock you up."

You looked up, momentarily bewildered, tilting your head as you processed the whirlwind of a man before you. First thought: how on earth did he get home so fast? Second thought: why was he acting like this?

"Satoru…" you started, eyebrows raised. “Get me pregnant? No, no, you’re bending over, and I’m getting you pregnant.” You stated it so bluntly that Satoru actually froze, his face scrunching up in confused disbelief.

"So… that wasn't a typo?" He blinked, leaning in closer. "Listen, I ain't afraid of any, uh, experimental stuff," he said with a playful grin, "but baby, you gotta give me a heads-up if we're diving into that territory. Prep work, you know?"

You weren't entirely sure if he was joking or not. Satoru was a certified freak. He’d recreate any scene you wanted with full commitment, no questions asked. Anything was on the table with him. 

"Uh…" You stared at him, cheeks burning.

His grin only grew wider, eyes dancing with mischief. “C’mon, what happened to all that confidence? What’s this about getting me pregnant?”

You squinted at him, trying to stifle a laugh as you watched the way he was practically vibrating with excitement. He had really taken that text to heart. And seemed totally fine with whoever was getting ‘bred’ concerningly. 

"Alright, alright," you sighed dramatically, pretending to roll up imaginary sleeves. "Guess I’ll have to show you how it’s done, Satoru."

"Oh, so you’re serious?” he said, his grin widening to something almost boyish, teasing. “You know, I might be the strongest sorcerer, but something tells me I’d make a damn good mom too.” He struck his tongue out with a slight giggle.

You snorted, struggling to keep a straight face. "Yeah? Then get comfortable” You were doing your best to suppress your giggles. 

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, doing his best sultry voice, “I was born ready.” He leaned back on the bed, kicking his shoes off dramatically, completely playing along, his expression smug and ready to entertain your every whim.

Just as you climbed up beside him, he gave you a look of faux seriousness. “But first… are we gonna need a safety word here? Because you can’t just spring this on a guy without, like, a tutorial or something.”

You smacked his shoulder, laughing. "The only tutorial you need is to sit back and let me work my magic, alright?"

Satoru gasped, all mock shock. “So demanding! This was supposed to be my job tonight, you know. I came home ready to do the breeding.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest, as if you’d wounded him. "I feel so used, so... objectified."

“Cry me a river, baby” you retorted, poking him in the ribs. “Or, should I say, ‘Mommy.’”

He gasped again, even louder, eyes wide as if he'd just uncovered a new secret of the universe. "Wait, if I’m 'Mommy'... does that make you ‘Daddy’? Because that I could get behind.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you deadpanned, trying not to laugh, “you’ll be getting behind a whole lot tonight.”

“So, are you actually going to fuck my ass or what?” Satoru practically purred as he pulled you into a loving kiss. It was going to be a long night. 

Suguru - Cute? But no.

You sent him a text. Your loving, devoted husband. The sweet, sly fox of a man you somehow managed to marry.

“Heyyyyy baby! ❤️ Can I uh… get you pregnant? MWAH!”

Suguru stared at the message for a moment, the whistle still in his mouth as he watched the first years run laps around the track. He blinked once, then twice, mentally questioning all the life choices that led him to marrying such a delightfully weird woman. With a small shake of his head, he shrugged and replied:

“No ❤️ But I can get you pregnant, princess :)”

You couldn’t help but giggle when his response popped up on your screen, kicking your feet under the desk at your cute little office job. You quickly covered your mouth to stifle the sound, trying not to disturb your coworkers. The older lady in the cubicle across from you shot you a curious glance, then simply shook her head. You’d earned a bit of a reputation as the office weirdo, but she didn’t seem too surprised. Typical you.

Later that night, after putting the twins to bed, you found yourself side-by-side with Suguru in the bathroom, both of you brushing your teeth in companionable silence. As he leaned over the sink to spit out his toothpaste, something in you—perhaps sheer impulsiveness—took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and smacked him on the ass.

For a moment, you both froze. 

You, because you were genuinely shocked at yourself. How could you possibly have the audacity to smack such a beautiful man, one who hid a surprisingly plump ass under his usual baggy sweatpants?

And Suguru… well, he slowly turned his head to look at you, an eyebrow raised, his violet eyes glinting with something dangerous and mischievous. You immediately recognized the look, and that’s when it hit you—you were in trouble. 

“Don’t,” he said, his voice so calm and smooth it made your skin prickle with nervous excitement. He took a step forward, towering over you just a little. “You’ll wake up the twins, sugar.”

Oh no. Sugar. He only called you that when he was not amused.

You gave him a sheepish smile and started to step back slowly, hands raised as if surrendering would get you out of this.

Suguru tilted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave you that calm, terrifyingly serene smile. “What’s wrong, sugar?” he drawled, taking a deliberate step toward you, his eyes glinting with that unmistakable spark of playfulness. The kind of look of a predator looking at its next mean…sorry…toy.

You took another step back, hands pressed over your mouth to stifle your laughter, but the giggles kept bubbling up. “Nothing, nothing at all! Just, uh… brushing my teeth, same as you!”

“Oh, is that so?” He took another slow step forward, eyes never leaving you. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you just smacked my ass. Which, let me remind you, is dangerous territory for a sweet little wife like you.”

You backed up until your heels hit the shower door, and your escape routes were down to… precisely zero.

Suguru was enjoying this far too much, the way he loomed over you, his tone smooth and dangerously soft. “Now, sugar,” he murmured, leaning down until his face was level with yours, “you wouldn’t have been trying to start something, would you?”

You couldn’t help yourself—you burst into laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth as you tried to quiet down. “Sorry! It was just—your sweatpants—and—”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Oh, so it was the sweatpants, huh? That’s what got you all brave?”

“Listen, I…I didn’t think!” you practically whispered, “I didn’t mean to!” Giving him the best pout you could muster, in hopes to charm your way out of this. 

Suguru raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Oh, now you want to act innocent? You’ve been a little menace all day, haven’t you?” He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, his violet eyes glinting with that familiar, irresistible mischief. “First, with that message, and now, this”  

“Maybe…we can call a truce?” You ventured, trying to inch around him, but he moved with grace to block you instantly cornering you against the counter with a raised eyebrow. 

“Not a chance, sugar.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, making your skin prickle with his honeyed voice. “But don’t worry. I’ll keep quiet. Wouldn’t want to wake the twins, after all.” He smiled, that same calm smile, and you realized you were dead. 

You bit your lip, but you knew you were done for. Suguru was already tilting his head, his mouth right by your ear as he whispered, “You know I don’t like to be teased, princess. And you know exactly what happens when you do.”

With a last, nervous laugh, you bolted, ducking under his arm to make a break for it. Nearly hitting the corner of the counter in the process. You barely made it past the bathroom door when you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist, effortlessly pulling you back to him. Before throwing you over his shoulder with a tap of his palm against your ass. 

“So we wanted to run?” He whispered, his tone dripping with amusement. “Cute” 

“Wait, wait, Sugu–” you tried to talk in between giggles as he was already leading you to the bedroom. Practically throwing you on the bed, before crawling on top of you. 

“You started this, Sugar,” he murmured, his voice warm and playful as he leaned down to nuzzle your neck, peppering a few light kisses. “And now you’re gonna deal with the consequences” A playful danger in his gaze. 

Yeah, you didn’t walk straight the next day and got good use out of that new gag he bought you. 

Nanami - Hahaha…Not Happening

You sent that sweet little text, along with a tantalizing selfie in the new black lace lingerie you’d picked up during your lunch break.

Nanami had been away on a mission for a few days, and you knew he’d be eager to see you again. So, naturally, you expected him to check his phone and be pleasantly surprised by the little gift you left in his messages—a photo of you looking irresistible, paired with a playful message:

"Hey Pumpkin 🎃! I was just thinking… how about I get you pregnant? Wouldn’t that be so cute? :)”

However, as luck would have it, he was sitting right next to Ino on the ride back, his stoic demeanor not faltering as he opened his phone expecting, perhaps, a picture of something you baked or a casual selfie. Definitely not a suggestive photo of you in lace and a not-so-subtle proposal.

He glanced at the screen, quickly closing his messages without so much as a reaction. Left on read.

You pouted, checking your phone again, hoping for a reply. Maybe he was busy? But as the minutes ticked by, you started to feel the anticipation—and the slightest hint of nervousness—building.

Later that night, you heard the front door open, and there he was, standing in the doorway with his usual calm, composed expression… but his gaze was focused, a little too serious.

"My wonderful wife likes to break rules, doesn’t she?” he said, his voice soft but carrying a distinct edge, as he took off his tie and closed the door behind him. You managed a nervous, wobbly smile.

“W-what do you mean?” you stammered, though you both knew exactly what he meant.

He raised an eyebrow. “What did I say about sending pictures like that to me at work?”

You swallowed, cheeks flushing, knowing full well you’d been caught red-handed. Oh, you were so screwed.

He walked over to the couch, his composure unwavering, and sat down, calmly patting his lap. “Come here,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically firm. “Over my lap. And you’re going to count to twenty.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding, but you moved toward him, knowing full well there was no getting out of this. As you settled over his lap, he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in that calm, measured tone that sent a thrill through you.

“Afterward,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, “I’m going to make good on that little proposal of yours until you can’t see straight.”

Yuki - Mommy? Sorry…Mommy? 

You and Yuki weren’t exactly ready for kids—far from it, actually. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t help but remember the countless times Yuki had nearly killed Todo during their training. Still, that didn’t stop you from teasing her that she would be the one to carry the kids if you ever did decide to go down that road.

So, with a mischievous grin, you typed out a playful message:

"Mommy… sorry… Mommy? Can I please… get you pregnant 💗?

Her response came back immediately, so fast it made you giggle with excitement, kicking your little feet and a slight squeal.

"Mmm? So I have a little brat today? Good to know 💗 ✨. "

You stared at her response, heart pounding as you took in her words. A brat, huh? That wasn’t a title you earned often, but whenever Yuki bestowed it upon you, it usually meant she was in one of her rare, particularly teasing moods. You bit your lip, debating your options. Maybe disappearing for the weekend wouldn’t be the worst idea… 

You quickly considered your options. Fleeing the country was a bit extreme, but maybe a weekend in Osaka with your parents would be enough to dodge whatever Yuki had in store.

"Don’t even think about running, sweetheart. I’ll find you. I always do ;)"

You practically squeaked, knowing full well that no matter where you went, Yuki was more than capable of tracking you down. She wasn’t just a little sadistic—she was slightly crazy. You always did attract their crazies. 

Taking a deep breath, you decided to play it cool. 

“Who’s running? I’m just, uh, mentally preparing for all that, um… pregnancy talk, baby.”

You cringed a little as you hit send, knowing that your attempt to sound calm probably came off more like a nervous ramble. Her response came back almost instantly, each word dripping with that teasing edge you both dreaded and loved.

"Oh, baby, you’ll need a lot more than mental preparation. But don’t worry—I’ll take my time with you. You’ll have plenty of chances to beg.”

You felt a flutter in your tummy full of excitement that was mixed with nervousness as you read her message, knowing you were absolutely not getting out of this one. The idea of her calling you a “brat” was a warning—Yuki had every intention of putting you in your place, and you knew better than to test her when she was like this.

The thought crossed your mind to apologize, maybe even backtrack, but another part of you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement at the challenge. You typed a quick reply:

“Well, Yuki, I guess you’ll just have to show me how much of a brat I really am, huh?”

The three little dots popped up immediately, and you barely had time to brace yourself before her reply came through:

“Oh, you can count on it, baby. Pack a bag—you’re spending the weekend with me. And don’t even think about complaining. Brats don’t get choices.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, you were so fucked. Literally.

Sidenote: Thank you for reading! I am planning on doing fluffy Mondays, a better way to start the week imo. Requests are appreciated! Open to angst requests too! I might make angsty days Fridays or Thursdays?

[mentally-a-slut]

Staring Problem (Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader)

Rating: M (a little spicy, nothing too bad)

Summary: An innocent staring problem evolves into something out of your most romantic fantasies.

Note: Okay, so I just whipped this up to show y'all what my writing would look like, it's really last minute and unedited so don't expect too much, but I hope you like it! It's a little messy because I just kinda started writing with no real idea, but please leave feedback! Also, if enough people want it, I am open to doing a smutty part two :) enjoy!

You hadn't thought you were being obvious with your staring, but were very quickly proved wrong when Mary-Beth slid up next to you, giggling. "Enjoyin' the show?"

You spluttered and blushed at the young woman's implication, lightly shoving her. "I'm not staring!"

She giggled again and gave you a look. "I don't blame you, I do it all the time. Nothing better to do than watch the men chop wood, especially if I'm supposed to be doing chores."

"Mary-Beth! Where is that girl?"

Mary-Beth gasped. "Oops! Gotta go!"

She scuttled off back to her table, frantically fiddling with the needle and thread to make it look like she was sewing. You sighed as you tore your gaze from her, eyes settling back on the man in front of you.

Of course, you were staring. Pretty damn hard, too. But hey, when Arthur Morgan is swinging an axe in the blazing sun, sleeves bunched up around his elbows, you just have to stare.

You knew you should at least be more subtle about it, instead of standing there uselessly leaning on a wagon, but whenever your eyes snagged on him, it was almost impossible to tear them away.

You'd lost all shame anyway, ever since he sort of confronted you about your crush. It had been an awkward conversation, one filled with stuttering and apologies. He hadn't expressed any discomfort, though, and simply acknowledged the fact that you liked to stare. He didn't outright reject you, but you knew better than to read into things. And even if he wasn't interested, who were you to deny yourself a show if he didn't mind giving one?

You only tore your gaze away when you heard Miss Grimshaw turning the corner, and you hurriedly tried to look busy. It usually worked, and you were back to staring as soon as she was out of sight.

You inwardly sighed when he sent the axe splitting through the last log. Show's over.

Even as he leaned the axe against the stump and turned to leave, you couldn't avert your gaze. The light was hitting him just right, golden rays bathing his tanned skin and making him look like an angel. Your face burned when he turned and met your gaze, and he simply tipped his hat with a smile. Sometimes you wished he would straight up say something about it instead of letting you ogle him. The heat that rushed to your face every time you were caught was stifling.

You had to resist the urge to follow him and see what he was getting up to next, instead settling on joining Mary-Beth. She looked up at you with a teasing smirk when you sat down, glancing behind you at the man who held your attention. "Show's over, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, sighing. "...Yeah."

She burst into giggled at your confession, dainty fingers going up to cover her mouth. "What's so funny?"

You started at his voice, the closeness of it surprising you. You turned to look at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You could've sworn there was a knowing smirk on his lips, but you chalked it up to the sun in your eyes. Even though you were facing away from the sun.

"Nothing!" you said too quickly.

"We was just talking about how she was staring at you chopping that wood."

You whipped your stare around to Mary-Beth. She just giggled and shrugged, acting innocent. "I- I wasn't-"

"S'alright, I know you were."

His words only made you want to shrink into yourself, never to see the light of day again. Mary-Beth took her leave, teasingly waving goodbye. She had just left you alone, with Arthur, a blushing mess.

"I don't- you-"

You all but yelped when he sat next to you on the log bench, close enough for your legs to brush. "If I didn't like it, I wouldn't let you do it."

"I didn't mean to stare!"

He chuckled, a low noise that traveled through your body and left goosebumps in its wake. "Yeah, you did."

You tried to come up with a valid explanation that wasn't 'I think you're really hot,' but came up short. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No need. I think it's cute, your little staring problem."

You didn't think you could blush anymore, but there he went, making you lightheaded with his words. "You... me, cute?"

His eyes met yours, and you had to stop yourself from swooning. His eyes were so blue, like shining crystals in the sunlight. "Yes, you. I thought it was obvious."

"What was obvious?"

He rolled his eyes affectionately, calloused hand brushing against yours. "That I'm sweet on you."

All coherent thought disappeared from your brain at that moment. "Huh?"

Your skin tingled as his hand grasped yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours. "I like you, sweetheart."

"Is this a joke?"

He chuckled. "No. I know I didn't really go about it right before, but what I meant to say was that I feel the same. It just... didn't come out right."

Your whole body was on fire, overwhelmed at the feeling of him so close to you. "So... you've liked me back, this whole time?"

"Mhm."

"Oh. That's... good."

"Just good?"

Your eyes found his, shining with emotion. "You know what I mean. I just can't believe..."

He stared at you, eyes shining with what must have been admiration. With his hand still holding yours, he stood, tugging you with him. "C'mere."

You stumbled after him, too awestruck to think. He led you to the spot you liked to stare at him from, the wagon obscuring the two of you from the rest of camp. Your back was to the wagon, his frame towering over you and he stood in front of you. He was close, close enough for you to lean forward and be chest to chest.

"When you stand here all clueless, drooling over me like nobody's watching," the hand that wasn't holding yours came up to rest against your cheek, "I have to force myself to keep working and not march over to you and kiss you til you can't breath."

You let out a strangled sound, breath hitching as he leaned closer. You were now trapped against the wagon, his body resting against yours. It was the best trap you'd ever been caught in.

"And when you look at me with those big, lovestruck eyes, I just wanna grab onto you and never let go."

A sigh that sounded more like a whine escaped your lips, knees threatening to give out beneath you. "Keep going."

He chuckled at your words, brushing his lips so, so close to yours.

"When you're concentrating on something, and you make those cute little noises, all I can think about is how I wanna bend you over and see what pretty little sounds I can get out of you."

"Holy shit," you whispered, eyes fluttering as his lips barely brushed against yours.

With a shaky sigh, you grabbed his collar and pulled him toward you, crashing your lips together. He let go of your hand, gripping your waist and holding you close. His lips were warm against yours, gently molding against yours. You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his short strands. An involuntary whine slipped from your lips, and it was swallowed by his increasingly desperate kiss. His hand slowly moved to your back, pressing you closer.

When his tongue brushed against your lip, you gasped, and he hummed against you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You recovered quickly, meeting his tongue with yours with matching desperation. Your fingers closed in his hair, tugging lightly. He groaned softly, and the sound traveled straight to your core.

When he pulled back for air, he kept his face close to yours, blue eyes darkened as he looked down at you. "You're so pretty like this, all whiny and desperate."

His praise elicited another whine from your lips and you pulled him back against your lips. This time he kept pulling away from you in between kisses, chuckling as you chased after him. He mumbled soft words against your lips, each one making you want him more and more.

"Pretty girl."

"So good for me."

"So needy."

You whined in frustration and kissed him roughly, hands running over his body. When his hands ran over your ass and gripped your thighs tightly, you jumped up and he pressed you up against the wagon. The angle was torture, your core level with his, and the heat of your arousal was overwhelming. Your hips struggled to meet his, seeking the friction you craved, but Arthur just chuckled against your lips and held you still. "Not yet, darlin'."

You would have been embarrassed by the whine you let out if you weren't clouded with lust. You continued to wriggle against his grip, whining as he tortured you with slow, passionate kisses.

"Arthur!"

He pulled back with a groan when someone called his name, his forehead resting against yours. "Yeah?"

"Got a job for you!"

He sighed. "Be right there!"

You sighed and let your head fall against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby."

You hid your face in his neck, trying to hide the blush his words caused. "S'okay."

He gently set you down, hands settling on your waist. He lifted your face to his, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with his darkened eyes that held a promise for things to come.

"We'll finish this later."

[imtrashraccoon]

The spicy chapter has arrived! I am not sorry for that one... I would classify this one as a sweet kind of spicy though, rather than a hot spicy if that makes sense.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Horror - Pepper

Word Count: 2,201

"Okay, now we just need to add a teaspoon of pepper and combine everything," you said.

Axe nodded and went to rinse off his hands in the sink while you got the pepper container out of the cupboard.

For whatever reason, the lid was screwed on a lot tighter than you remembered and you struggled to get it off. Unfortunately, you applied a bit too much effort and the cap came off the jar suddenly. You fumbled the little glass jar and a bunch of pepper spilled out onto the countertop.

You couldn't help but sneeze, no doubt because of the mini explosion that sent the pepper into the air. Your nose was itchy and now your eyes were watering as well. So you tried to get away and back up a few steps, only to bump into Axe who was suddenly behind you. You gasped in surprise and he placed his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

"what was that?" he asked.

You wiped your eyes on your sleeve and sniffed to try and clear your nose again. "I accidentally inhaled some pepper and sneezed. I'm alright now though," you responded.

"that was adorable...do it again!"

You balked and glanced up at him in confusion. His singular red eyelight was at least twice the size it was normally and he looked absolutely enraptured right now.

"No? Sneezing isn't adorable, it's annoying at best..." you answered slowly.

He actually had the audacity to look disappointed that you couldn't sneeze on command. His eyelight returned to it's normal size pretty quickly though and you were momentarily fascinated by the implications of how that worked.

He sighed and let go of your shoulders. "too bad, it was small and cute...like you..." He had a bit of a mischievous look on his face all of the sudden and if you didn't like him, you would've gotten really annoyed that he had called you short, again.

You rolled your eyes and went to go clean up the pepper you'd accidentally spilled. "You're on thin ice, big guy..." you warned, although there was no real malice in your tone.

Axe didn't reply and you could feel him watching you while you measured out the required amount of pepper. Once you'd given the stew a quick stir and plopped the lid on, you turned on the pressure cooker so it would cook.

Turning to Axe, you placed your hands on your hips and smiled in satisfaction. "So, in a few hours, we'll have some amazing beef stew to eat. Thanks for your help by the way, it would've taken a lot longer by myself."

He nodded quietly but continued studying you. He kind of looked like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

So, you decided to give him a little encouragement and placed your hand on his arm. "What's on your mind?" you asked gently.

He didn't say anything for a moment longer. His eyelight lingered on your hand before flicking back up to your face. Then, he took a step closer and practically scooped you up into his arms.

You let out a squeak of surprise and scrambled to steady yourself, with your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Then, you realized that you were basically nose to nose with him and to your shame, you froze like a deer in the headlights.

He stared back at you and his permanent grin grew wider the longer he did so. The center slit in his eyelight expanded and contracted briefly until he seemed to make up his mind about something. He then proceeded to carry you into the living room and sat down on the couch with you in his lap.

You finally managed to recover and find your voice again. "Um, Axe...? What are you doing?" you asked in a small voice.

He blinked and his eyelight refocused on your face. He seemed to realize that you were a little uncomfortable and his cheekbones flickered with a cobalt blue glow.

He cleared his nonexistent throat and let go of you. "...sorry... i got carried away..." he murmured.

You sat back on your haunches slightly so you weren't as close and so you felt like you could breath easy again. "I'm not mad," you started to say. "You just scared me a little..."

His bonebrows furrowed with concern and he quickly looked away from you. "i didn't mean to scare ya... i just... i wanted to hold ya so bad..."

Well, now you were a bit torn. He looked so ashamed, like a dog caught stealing a bone, and you couldn't be actually upset with him. Still, he should've at least asked before just scooping you up like that.

You decided that you'd rather ignore how awkward this situation was and move on. He had apologized afterall and you didn't think he'd had any ulterior motives from what you could tell. There wasn't anything wrong with just holding someone you cared a lot about, as long as they actually wanted to at least. Well, you didn't mind snuggling up to him normally, so why not now?

"Did you want to cuddle then?" you asked.

Immediately, Axe's gaze locked with your own and he seemed to scan your face for any indication that you were messing with him. Finding none, he grinned and started to reach for you again, but hesitated.

"if you're sure?"

You rolled your eyes and decided to give him some more encouragement. Leaning in again, you wrapped your arms around his vertebrae and gave him a warm hug.

He barely hesitated for a second before encasing you in a bear hug of his own. You held each other for several long minutes before gradually relaxing your grip on each other.

At some point, Axe started to rake his claws very gently across your scalp. You let out a hum of contentment and nuzzled against his collarbone in response.

"your hair's really soft," he murmured. His phalanges ghosted over your shoulders before he added another small comment. "not quite as soft as your skin but still..."

"I guess so, at least compared to a guy like you who's made of bones," you remarked. "Although you make up for it since you're all soft on the inside."

"maybe..." He didn't sound like he fully believed you but he wasn't denying anything either.

Axe kept running his phalanges through your hair and softly scratching your scalp for several minutes. When he lost interest in that, he shifted you in his hold so that he could make eye contact with you again. After a few seconds of staring, he brought his hand up and gingerly ran his knuckles over your cheeks. He really did seem fascinated by the texture of your skin, how it seemed soft yet spongy at the same time, and how warm it was too.

"i... i really like ya..." he murmured.

You could feel your heart skip a beat and you blinked in surprise, wondering if you'd heard him correctly. He was staring intently into your eyes and had stopped touching you at the moment. You hadn't even known him long, maybe a few months at most, but it felt like you'd known each other for far longer.

You'd suspected for a while that he had feelings for you and now that you knew for sure, you felt rather hopeful. Maybe it was silly, but you'd started to wonder if the small crush you'd developed for him was something you should act on or not. The problem was that you were so different from each other, both physically and otherwise, and you knew there were things he hadn't told you about himself yet.

"You do?" you asked quietly.

He smiled and nodded, "yes, i have for a little while too."

You could feel your cheeks grow warmer the longer you retained eye contact with him but you didn't mind in the slightest.

"I really like you too..." You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you...like me like that?"

He tilted his skull in a questioning way and the corners of his smile twitched slightly. "like what?"

"Like..." Your blush grew more intense as you tried to figure out how to explain what you meant. "Sorry... Do you like me enough to...be interested in a relationship...?"

He chuckled quietly and moved some of your hair behind your ears before even trying to respond. "i am...although it's still a bit early for that, right?"

You knew he was right but you couldn't help wondering. Still, it was reassuring that he hadn't rejected the idea entirely. Maybe when you'd gotten to know each other better he'd reconsider.

"Ah, no, you're right..." you murmured and glanced away.

Axe hummed and leaned closer to you. When you looked up slightly, he pressed his skull against your forehead and wrapped his arms around you in a gentle embrace.

"you're a special human...but you'll have to forgive me for not sayin' yes right now. and i don't ever want to hurt ya...but there's some things i'm not quite ready to tell ya."

You slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him keep talking. It was disappointing, sure, but you were trying your best not to focus on his rejection too much right now. There was a first time for everything and being told "not yet" wasn't a bad thing considering everything you'd gone through.

"call me selfish all ya want, but i'd like to keep ya to myself and get to know ya a little while longer... i'm not used to domestic stuff like this, lil' chip..."

He finally pulled back slightly but continued maintaining eye contact with you. The edges of his single eyelight seemed fuzzy and his bonebrows were a little furrowed with concern.

You could feel the emotions he was going through just underneath the surface and for a moment, your own seemed rather insignificant in comparison. Here was a person who'd been through so much hardship and lost so many close friends to a tragedy he was powerless to prevent. Then there was you, a person who'd never actually struggled to have enough to eat and while you were certainly lonely, you'd never had to grieve over losing family or friends like he had many times over.

You would wait for him.

He was worth putting aside your selfish wants until he felt ready to say yes, however long that would take. You'd enjoyed his friendship so far anyways and you really hoped this conversation wouldn't make things awkward between you two. Spending time with him had become something you really looked forward to and helped you get through each boring work day. He was easily the best thing that had ever happened to you lately and there was no way in the world you were going to ruin this.

"In this instance, it's okay for you to be selfish, Axe. Besides, I wouldn't want to risk ruining this friendship by jumping into something before either of us are ready to. I'm glad I met you and I'm proud to count you as a good friend but if we decide anytime soon to become more than what we are now, I won't complain either."

He smiled and stroked your cheek in a tender way. "i'm glad i met ya too..." he murmured.

For a moment neither of you said anything else and just sat there studying each other. He seemed perfectly content to stare at you for hours and you wished you could know what went through his mind whenever he saw you. On the other hand, you generally hated maintaining eye contact for longer than a few seconds with people, but he was different. You really liked how expressive his eyelight was and how beautiful the deep red colour was.

"hey, uh, do you...?"

You made a questioning hum and tilted your head.

Axe seemed to get a little flustered and the blue glow grew darker while he struggled to find the words. "would you...? can we...?"

"You can just tell me what's on your mind, big guy..." you said.

"is it bad that i want to kiss you?" he finally asked.

You blinked in surprise and for a moment you didn't know what to do. You just knew you were blushing heavily the longer this moment went on but you needed to answer him.

"No? I don't mind if you do..."

He seemed surprised that you'd actually agreed and studied you for a moment. Then, he reached out and carefully cupped your left cheek, being mindful of his claws while doing so. He leaned closer and pressed his teeth against your lips in a careful but still tender kiss.

You hadn't known what to expect but it wasn't at all like kissing a human was like. It was gentle, simple, and kind of experimental. His bones were cool and dry to the touch, yet you could still feel the hum and warmth of his magic.

It was nice...

Axe pulled back slightly although he remained cupping your cheek for a moment longer. "you're really cute, ya know?" he hummed.

You chuckled softly, "You are too..."

[wonijin]

HOTSHOT (R U NEXT/READER)

survival shows are hard as it is. why must you make it more complicated for yourself and entangle intense feelings with vulnerable emotions. but it wasn't your fault, they fell prey to you one by one, all by themselves. maybe you weren't the fool in this mess after all.

TAGS: 3.3k words. series. chapter one. mostly fluff and angst with a little spiciness. reader is very gay and get girls left and right. "everybody falls for y/n" type of fic. reader is also a walking red flag.

WARNINGS: the setting is a survival show so its bound to have kinda depressing themes.

“when will we have female idols as special coaches. i’ll be so motivated if somebody like newjeans minji coaches me,” you voiced as you plop down at the staircase.

the trainees assume their places at the foot of the staircase forming three rows. it was only a matter of time until you get called one by one to come through the orange curtain and pick; vocal or dance.

you sit between jiwoo and jeemin. the latter intertwining your arms, as she lights the room up with her smile. both of them looking at you as you confess your wishful thoughts.

“why would you want someone pretty when you already have me,” jiwoo asks, sending her sharp gaze to you. she raise an eyebrow and you look away, swallowing your saliva.

these kinds of comments from her were nothing new. you should’ve been used to it by now but you find yourself loss for words each time. she’s always been the type to blurt out these kind of comments without thinking of the implication. maybe she does and she just fakes innocence to not deal with the consequences.

before you could rack your malfunctioning brain for a verbal reply, jeemin saved you the trouble and changed the topic. “what will you guys pick? i’m leaning towards dance.”

“you’ll do great in dance. for me, i’m gonna be safe and pick vocal,” jiwoo answered. “what about you?” she added, looping her arms around yours. the sudden proximity would’ve been fine any other time but her remark earlier kept you on your toes.

“me? i don’t really have much of a choice, you know,” you say, pointing to your grey badge with a huge silver “L”. low levels don’t get to choose, they only get the higher level trainees’ leftovers. cruel but you were confident in your abilities to stay afloat whichever category landed at your feet.

“you’re so dramatic. there’s only two options, im sure you’ll get to choose,” jiwoo reassures you after giggling at your antics.

“choose dance so we can be on the same team,” jeemin clutch your arms tighter and starts to shake it lightly as if it would persuade you.

“or i could end up competing against you. no, thank you,” you pull your away from her grasp only to reconnect your hands together.

jeemin pouts in return and your stomach clench looking at her. somewhere deep inside you had the urge to kiss it away. which you find weird because why would you want to kiss your friend. yes, she’s cute. but why would you want to do that. friends don’t do that.

before you get swallowed by your thoughts you hear jeemin’s name get called. it was time for her to choose. she gave your hand one last squeeze before bidding both you and jiwoo good lucks and good byes.

“choose vocals,” jiwoo whispers next to you after a few seconds.

jiwoo is always the type to be assertive but never aggressive. she’ll always be commanding but leave just enough room for you to pull away if you want to. but you don’t think you ever will. you like that side of her. and its son jiwoo, only fools dare to refuse her.

“i don’t know, maybe,” you whisper back playfully, keeping your head faced forward while you still feel jiwoo’s gaze on the side of your head.

jiwoo scooches closer and nudges her head onto your shoulder. to the untrained eye, it must’ve looked like jiwoo’s just clinging onto you. well, its technically right but something in you screams that its not just simple ‘clinginess’. “come on. wouldn’t you like to be teams with me? it’ll be fun.”

you would’ve answered. although, you didn’t know what but you would’ve blurted out. but before you could open your mouth, jiwoo’s name echoed throughout the lobby. saved by the bell, again.

“well, i’ll see you on the same team,” she flashes a smile before walking away.

waiting patiently for your turn, you chat idly with the other trainees to pass the time.

you pull the orange curtain back to reveal the girls in lines. jeemin’s eyes caught yours and give her a smile. the girl in front of her, jihyun, noticed the interaction and waved. you mimicked before walking toward the board containing different stickers. two for dance and vocal each. one of the two vocal badges was for a leader position.

you look behind you to see who’re the other leaders. almost immediately, your scanning gaze locked onto jiwoo’s, as if she was waiting for you to turn around just so she can meet your eyes.

the eye contact lasted for a split second before you turned around and grab the vocal position. the normal one, without the leader position.

jiwoo stands in front with yunah and jeongeun next to her. on her farthest left is yewon, another leader.

you stand in a line together with the other trainees who chose the same category as you, waiting for your name to get called by either of the two. beside you is wonhee and seoyeon. suddenly, anxiousness plagues your insides as you realize you’d be either in the same team as them or end up competing against them.

“so, jiwoo its your turn to pick next. who will it be?”

your eyes avoided jiwoo. you were afraid that desperation would be seen as plain as day on your face and holding eye contact with her would solidify that.

so you turn your attention to the person in front of you. which happened to be minju. her face morphs into confusion at your sudden focus in her. you only smile and minju furrows her eyes in turn. the action only made your smile wider, ‘how cute’.

“y/n.”

jiwoo’s voice broke both you and minju out of your trance. and it took you a second to understand that jiwoo wants you on her team. you look back at jiwoo to meet her unreadable face, her gaze going from minju to you.

“you looked worried there for a second,” yunah teases you as soon as you joined her and jeongeun, putting her arm around your shoulder comfortably.

“as if we’d pass up the chance to be with you,” she adds as she pinches your cheeks with her free hand.

“although, it looked to me you wanted to be with minju more” jeongeun added, joining in and putting her arms around you as well. while her other arm punches your stomach lightly.

“shut up,” you say, laughing at their teasing.

it has been a few days since practice started and your group has been going through some hiccups. well, its mostly yunah.

“yunah, you can tell me whats wrong. im here for you,” jiwoo’s words were nothing but soft and comforting. you were about to reach your friend when jiwoo’s eyes flicker to yours. ‘i’ll handle this.’

jeongeun and wonhee had already moved out to their own corner to continue practicing. you refused to leave yunah alone but jiwoo’s hard stare says all you need to know.

let the leader do her thing.

so, you distance yourself from the pair and roam your eyes around the practice room to look for something to do. you could use the time to practice, yes. but you’re sure that you would bury yourself six feet under the ground if you hear the song one more time.

the empty water dispenser gleamed at your search, the perfect opportunity to do something different. you walked towards it, detached the empty gallon and put it over your shoulder.

you left the practice room, heading to the cafeteria where they store the refills.

that is when hyewon saw your silhoutte from outside their practice room and called out your name. “y/n! what are you doing?”

“im getting refills,” you enter their practice room with ease, “bang!” blaring through the speakers yet nobody was really practicing. they were all doing their own thing, scattered across the vast room.

“great timing!” hyewon exclaims as she walks towards their own water dispenser. just like the one in your practice room, it was empty of any water.

“here! fill ours too,” she smiles at you brightly, her eyes twinkling in mischief. suddenly, her soft hands grips yours, the thin veil of sweat clinging on to you. she opens your palms and put the neck of the gallon there.

“what? no! you fill it up! its yours!” you exclaims as you take her hands and forcefully shove the gallon back in her grasps.

“come on. do me a little favor, won’t y-”

a cough intervenes hyewon’s pleading and forceful words. you turn around to see youngseo, who’s already boring her fiery eyes through your soul. then, her eyes travels to you and hyewon’s intertwined hands.

just like opposite magnets, both of you retreated your hands quickly causing the gallon to fall into the floor with a thud. you and hyewon both wince at the sound but youngseo however did not flinch.

instead, her gaze remained hot towards you. “i’ll be coming with you,” she says softly with her underlying firmness. her voice was always like that, sweet and subtly strong.

how you missed it. when was the last time she addressed you directly again?

“you don’t have to, i’ll be fine alone,” you convince her. it has been a long time since you both spoke to each other. truthfully, you weren’t ready to face her yet. its been too long and you have forgotten what being around her is like.

“no. i want to,” her firmness surfaced through her small voice. you decide that its really not up for debate. when youngseo has made up her mind, it’ll be hard to break her resolve. what youngseo wants, youngseo gets.

maybe remembering the feelibg of her company isn’t bad at all.

you watch as she picks up the gallon from the floor and head towards the door, you follow her until you were both walking in the hallway, side by side.

youngseo didn’t talk. as much as you wanted for her to say something, you knew she wouldn’t open her mouth unless it was to reply to something you said. or so you thought.

“how’s practice coming along?” her question puts an end to your thoughts. if you weren’t surprised by her accompanying you before, you were now that she was actually speaking to you.

“we’re…” you paused, thinking of the right words. choosing the right words carefully, you didn’t want to come across as overconfident. “we’re moving along, i guess”

you see her nod lightly in you peripheral vision. your eyes find the floor. there was so much you both needed to talk about. yet you were talking about practice.

“im happy you chose the vocal team. the world needs to hear your voice more,” youngseo’s voice flew like water against the air, natural and unwavering.

you snapped your head towards her and she turn hers just in time to catch the surprise look in yours, like she knew you were going to look at her.

it was the first time you’ve actually held eye contact after a long time. you drink in the familiarity you’ve lost and among it are a thousand words you can’t decipher. something flicker in her face before she breaks the stare.

“yeah, i just feel like i’ve been branding myself too much to dance lately,” you say, knowing it would end the conversation. a test to see if youngseo will surprise you again and start a new one.

but she didn’t. and the whole walk continued in awkward silence. so many unsaid words hanging in the air, the burden getting heavier each step closer to her practice room.

‘look, how about we just forget everything and start over?’

'we both know it won't work'

the past looms over both of you like dark shadows and you both know it. yet, youngseo did make any move to open the skeleton in your shared closet.

'let's talk, youngseo. you can’t keep ignoring me forever’

‘im sorry, i just need more time’

she’s ignoring it so why shouldn’t you. if someone’s going to peel the scab, it wouldn’t be you. you already did your part. a long time ago.

'i need space.'

‘you already got your space, youngseo. what about me? it's been months. if you've found peace then let me find mine!'

before you knew it, the door to her practice room is in sight. a part of you felt relieved to finally be free from her presence, while another part was longing to be with her a little longer.

youngseo stands beside it, holding the doorknob with one hand. she smiles at you sweetly. then waves at you lightly, “i’ll see you soon! good luck on your practice!”

the thoughts come pouring in as the door shuts in front of you. she was gone like she had never been there. you would’ve wondered if the last few moments were real if it weren’t for her voice replaying vividly on your mind. just like a melody you can’t get enough of.

just like that, you find yourself getting stuck in her web. again.

the following days went by quickly. but youngseo never once left your mind. you know you shouldn’t think much of her actions, youngseo’s too unpredictable.

after everything, why now?

“are you even paying attention?” jeemin’s whines mixed with the song blasting through the speakers.

it was late into the night and you decided to stay back with the tall girl to help polish her moves. you thought her moves were perfect the first time she showed it to you. and by the nth time, your mind can’t help but drift.

jeemin couldn’t believe it when you agreed after all the stage is coming up soon, there’s no time to loiter around. but she didn't have to know that you can never refuse her.

“are you okay? we can go home if you’re tired.” jeemin’s offer sounded sweet, she’s as nice as ever. but you witness the fire burning in her eyes, begging for her passion to translate into her performance. you knew it will never be extinguished completely, she was born to be a performer. so you let it burn you a little more.

“im fine, don’t worry about me and carry on,” you gesture for her to continue. and she restarts the song all over again. this time, you poured her all of your attention.

it was a wonder how your mind sailed before when jeemin is tight in front of you. her performance was impeccable as ever, the hard work and talent prominent in every sway and stroke.

“you’re off to space again,” jeemin narrows her eyes down at you playfully. her raspy voice was a blessing and her smile was godsend. an angel looks down at you.

“i wasn’t this time! i swear! i was just mesmerized.” your hands flew up in defense as you stand up to join her in front of the mirror.

“stop lying!” she smacks your arm lightly, her laugh gracing the whole room. you were glad nobody else was in the room, it made the privilege of making her laugh sweeter.

“fine then. if you were actually paying attention, at least give me some feedback.” your heart leaped at the sight of her crossing her arms.

“you were perfect!” jeemin let out a big sigh. as much as jeemin likes being praised, she needs actual feedback. something she can work with for these next few days leading to the stage.

“give me something more specific,” jeemin rolls her eyes lightly. but even then her cheeks stay up and her smile never faltered.

“well,” you think for a bit. “i liked how you start of the song. it really set the mood for the song.”

in front of you, jeemin’s pink turn a bright shade of pink.

“i think you also killed the omona part. you’re naturally cute so plus points for that. and then this move,” you didn’t know the name of the move so you demonstrate it to her.

jeemin bursts out laughing at your attempt. your awkward movements reflecting wholly through the mirror and you follow after jeemin, throwing your head back. “stop laughing, im not that bad.”

but jeemin continued giggling and so did you. the joyful sounds filling the entire space and drowning the faint sounds of the speakers.

you calm down after a few seconds but one look from each other sent you both into another spiral again. soon, both of you were lying on the floor, clutching your stomachs.

“ah- my stomach hurts from laughing so much.” jeemin blurts out between breaths and gasps.

“who said we’re done yet? you just made fun of my dancing.” you hands flew to her sides before she can fully comprehend what you said. another round of laughter echoes throughout the room as you tickle jeemin mercilessly.

somehow, she managed to get free from your grasp and now a tall baby is chasing you around the practice room.

jeemin catches your arm and pulled you to her, lightly but it was enough for your bodies to collide. she uses the momentum to turn your back to the wall, effectively locking you.

“got you,” she smiles brightly at you, a thousand watts on her lips.

the laughter comes to a gradual halt as silence blankets the both of you. her grin turns into a soft smile and her eyes felt endearing against yours. you couldn’t look at her in anything but adoration.

you anticipated it would happen. in fact, you hoped for it. but it still caught you by surprise when her lips press against yours. soft and gentle just like everything about her.

you wanted to press harder, for it to last longer. but you were already living in a dream and a second longer would be asking for too much.

jeemin pulls away in haste. you would’ve dived in for one more if you hadn't seen the panic flashing across her features. she blinks once, twice until the haze in her eyes clears.

she remained stiff for a moment. she looks up at you and the look of regret she gives you haunt you even after weeks.

“im sorry, i shouldn’t have,” she whispers, pupils still blown wide.

reassurance was a the tip of your tongue but you held back. but what were you going to say? that its fine and to just forget it ever happened?

immediately your mind reverts back to youngseo for a split second. it didn’t turn out well when you said that to her so what good would it do to say it to jeemin?

jeemin looks at your face, trying to make sense of your incomprehensible expression just to take a peak at your thoughts.

but each moment felt eternity to jeemin. and trepidation sets in her veins deeper and deeper until it roots and sprouts into anxiety. all while you weren’t aware of the consequences your silence had brought to her.

“jeemin-”

before you can finish, she was already out of door. from the practice room, you hear the echo of her dashing footsteps. as it died down, you were left wondering if you just let history repeat itself.

another friendship broken in the name of fleeting romance. but will this time be worth it?

[veliseraptor]

Headcanon ask - Song Lan and touch aversion? (Specifically, if you want, how this might interact with Xue Yang and being used to being seen as dirty)

oooh yes. I don't think there's necessarily something that "made" Song Lan touch-averse (and I do like touch-averse specifically, not just generally mysophobic though that's probably at least part of the problem and also true); it adds in a fun way to the perception of him as cold and aloof and gives me fun and spicy opportunities for my headcanons about his relationship with Xiao Xingchen.

but yeah, not just about the germs/feeling of uncleanliness, but also just the specific feeling of skin-touch is hard. not impossible, and he'll make exceptions particularly when it feels important, and clothes make a big difference (much easier to touch someone's clothed arm than their hand, for instance). I think it's always been true for him, though it took a while to articulate, and growing up in a temple that I don't think was particularly physically affectionate (affectionate in other ways!) shielded him from it really being an issue for a while.

but it is also fun to think about the way that Song Lan's air of untouchability (figurative) is partly a cultivated way of (literally) making himself untouchable, so that people will not cross his boundaries in that way, but that also results in the aforementioned cold-and-aloof relationship that, paired with the fact that I think Song Lan is just generally not all that good with people/very inclined to be social, gives him a reputation for...not hostility, because he's too righteous to be hostile, but definitely not warmth. and this is in direct contrast to Xiao Xingchen who ends up with an aura of untouchability entirely against his own will and he would really like to be touched. but in both instances it results in a certain loneliness and isolation from others.

and then how that plays with Xue Yang...the intensity of Xue Yang's reaction to Song Lan's reaction to being touched (which, admittedly, is pretty harsh; I don't think it was really thought through, though, necessarily) has always been interesting to me. like, yes, Xue Yang takes things personally, he offends easily and reacts to that offense with extreme measures, but the sheer immediate loathing he expresses toward Song Lan specifically for his reaction, even after Jin Guangyao explains it's not about him specifically...

Xue Yang has a history of being perceived as, yes, dirty, subhuman, beastly, and I think that bothers him more than he'd want to admit to anyone. the implication of "Song Zichen is mysophobic and that's why he lashed out when you touched him" doesn't read to him as "this is a general issue with touch and not about you specifically"; it reads as "this guy thinks you're dirty and can contaminate him with it just by touching him" and that sets off a big blaring angry alarm in Xue Yang's brain.

I think there's also something there about...an awareness that the perception of him as dirty/low is something that makes him acutely vulnerable and therefore something he's particularly sensitive to. somewhere in the back of Xue Yang's mind it's a precursor to being targeted in a more dangerous way and he's going to get out ahead of it.

it's something about Xiao Xingchen's condemnation of him as "disgusting" that finally triggers Xue Yang's nuclear bomb detonation in their last conversation, and I don't think that's incidental, in the same way that it's Song Lan's response to being touched by Xue Yang that specifically and directly sparks Xue Yang's anger at him (as opposed to Xiao Xingchen). I went back to look at the text and it is indeed Song Lan specifically who Xue Yang threatens in the Villainous Friends extra, though he expresses contempt and dislike for them both, to be sure:

"I find such fake, conceited people to be the absolute most disgusting. That Xiao Xingchen clearly wasn't much older than me, but still poking his nose into other people's business - annoying. And then he started lecturing me. And that Song one." He sneered. "I only brushed his arm, so what was with that look he gave me? Sooner or later, I'll dig out his eyes and shatter his heart. Let's see what he'll do once that happens." (trans. Exiled Rebels, emphasis mine)

it's only after his arrest that Xiao Xingchen himself becomes a target of Xue Yang's rage.

Song Lan didn't mean to press a berserk button when he lashed out at Xue Yang; I think it honestly is something where he would react, if not the same exactly, with the same discomfort and unhappiness to anybody touching him, often including Xiao Xingchen.

[biosurvive]

random documented death island thoughts under the cut!

First of all, as a whole I enjoyed it, it was a campy mess and I'm always down to clown with that. I also enjoyed seeing all five of those characters together, I love them.

My biggest issues? The implications that Jill doesn't know who Piers was. The idea that Jill didn't know the man Chris was partnered with for YEARS is INSANE to me and I refuse to acknowledge that. Jill is his person, he talks to her about everything and she would have known Piers.

I also am not too fond of Chris having to explain sacrifice to Jill when she tackled Wesker out a window to save him. Though I'm also not too upset about it, because Chris loves to get on his soapbox about speeches so that is pretty IC for him. He's dense at times, we allow this.

The fact that they mentioned Piers at all has my heart SOARING. it wasn't a lot, but the sad music in the bg and Kevin Dorman's voice acting just makes me even more positive that Chris is queer.

Rebecca and Claire's moments were lowkey my favorite part? Love them.

Chris and Claire did seem a little... stifled together. I blame it on the writing, but there were parts of them that I loved. Chris calling her name when they were in the cells, his hand on her back when they both got infected. Those are my Redfield siblings and I love any and all interactions with them no matter how awkward.

The main villain was so gay for that one soldier he had to kill. "Friend" Yeah right FIUYDHJKF

Jill was spicy, glad she got a lot of moments to shine and I hope this is a sign she'll be the main protagonist of the next game.

Hearing classic Hunnigan was a nice touch.

Maria Gomez is camp and I need her in Marvel vs Capcom 5

Chris was looking REAL SUPER THICC in this movie and I appreciate that. Love my big boy.

CHRIS AND JILL'S FIST BUMP AT THE END MADE ANYTHING THAT SUCKED ABOUT THIS MOVIE WORTH IT. Further cementing that these two are BEST FRIENDS, PLATONIC SOULMATES, PARTNERS. I will never hear anything else about it, the love they have for one another is real and it is not romantic.

Anyways, RE9 is gonna be about Jill and Sheva taking down the BSAA with Chris as support and Chris is gonna find Piers in a lab and he's gonna retire with him and help train Baby Rose and he'll live happily ever after. Thanks!

Also Chris and Leon putting that gun together was both camp and hilarious. I think they fucked after this movie.

Funniest part was Claire's very angry "WHAT?!" when Leon called her name over the battle. She sounded so done with today UYSGHFJ she's so real.

Dylan just posting a call out post about Leon/Chris/Claire/Jill but verbally is really funny. He really got their asses huh UHYDGFJK

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Conversations in Winter (NSFW)

Part of Entrapped series. Other works include: Pt 01 Layers| Pt 02 House Call | Pt 03 Invitation | Pt 04 Hot Summer | Pt 05 Straddling, Mounting, Riding | By the Fireplace | The Third Option

Takes place directly after Vyn's Snowfallen card "Aimed at Your Heart". Rosa struggles to give Vyn her answer after one of his offhanded actions deeply disturbs her.

A late night heartfelt conversation that turns spicy

(I'm sorry for not posting as much these days. Real life happened but hopefully the situation changs very soon!)

Faint, tentative footsteps echoed across the dimly-lit hallways, the thump-ing sounds almost rendered inaudible by the carpet dampening her footfalls. 

Tempestuous cries of cruel winter drowned out whatever noise she made, as she traversed the pathways barely illuminated by faux sconce fixtures.

Only a single wall separated Rosa from the fierce blizzard. 

And the blizzard, in turn, cut Rosa off from the rest of the world, leaving her in this palatial manor alone, but not quite .

The row of French windows that lined the hallway showed nothing but the swirling of white. White that blotted out the abyssal black sky of past two in the morning; white that brought along with it merciless cold barely held back by the fortified walls of the manor.

Faint tendrils of cold seeped into her bones, and she merely wrapped her arms around herself in pointless reflex.

Yet none of these mattered, for at this moment Rosa was too preoccupied with the turbulent thoughts swirling inside her head to notice any of them. The roaring of winter outside did not seem to reach her as she aimlessly explored the narrow paths; what filled her ears instead was the frantic beating of her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The lord of the manor was still waiting for her answer.

Rosa, frozen in indecision like a deer in headlights, had decided to put off giving her answer and retire to her bedroom earlier that midnight.

Yet sleep did not come for her. Instead his request—spoken in his smooth, dulcet tones—looped over and over and over in her mind, keeping her awake for the entire two hours ever since she laid down her head upon the rose-scented pillow, waiting in futility for sleep to claim her. 

And so two in the morning found her meandering in the bleak darkness from hallway to hallway, desperately trying to calm her restless nerves perhaps, or to chance upon an epiphany.

He wanted…He wanted…

He asked for a kiss. It was a silly request, really, for they have kissed several times already, sometimes stolen, each time even better than the last. 

No, he was clearly asking for something more. The way his eyes looked at her as he asked for that favor made it undeniable.

He said he did not want to pressure her into making hasty decisions; yet with the same breath also asked for a 'kiss', while they were both quite conveniently trapped in this little piece of luxurious comfort for more than a week.

Alone, save for his bodyguard and a few household staff.

Was she ready to give all of herself to him? Rosa wasn't naive, even she herself knew the implications, whether intentional or not.

Rosa cupped her hands and blew hot breath over her shivering fingers, sending her mind drifting through fragments of memories; of how his warm breath would fan her cheeks as he laughed, before taking her lips with his… 

She did not need a mirror to know how much she blushed at the sweet memory; heat practically radiated from her face. 

Keep it together, Rosa!

As she furiously rubbed her cheeks to stamp out the distracting thought, a shadow crept into the periphery of her vision only to disappear into the adjacent passageway as she turned her full attention towards it. 

Undaunted, Rosa strode towards the blind corner where the shadow vanished, only to be greeted by nothing but an unassuming light fixture that bleakly illuminated the grandfather clock standing directly underneath.

"Um…hello?" Rosa called out, not wanting to unintentionally ignore—or scare—any of the staff tending to the manor. 

Only the howling winds outside gave their reply.

Strange…

She suddenly felt as if she was being stalked; that someone was closely watching her every move. Gooseflesh bloomed all over the skin of her exposed forearms; something that even the intense Svart cold failed to achieve.

Could it be Ogier ? Yet that did not make sense. Vyn's assistant and bodyguard had no reason to sneak around her; if anything he would probably put on his kindest smile and ask her if anything was bothering her. 

The grandfather clock suddenly sounded off an eerie chime, interrupting her thoughts yet ultimately corroborating her foreboding. It was already three in the morning. The witching hour . Rosa idly wondered if such superstitions had any hold in a heavily religious and traditional nation such as Svart.

She let out a sigh, and her feet resumed their journey. 

Superstitions were merely things to respect or observe, and nothing to fear.

Eventually she reached the end of the maze of hallways, the terminus marked by a heavy gilded door left ajar. The golden glow spilling out of the narrow gap speared through the dreariness of the hallway; the faint clink -ing of metal against delicate porcelain from behind the door quite inviting.

Someone was having either tea or coffee; there was little doubt that the sound was of a small spoon stirring the drink inside a cup. 

Was Vyn still awake?

Carefully, yet without much thought Rosa pushed the door open, the drawn-out metallic creaking sound violently displacing the pleasant silence of the warmly-lit room. 

"Fancy seeing you here, my love. At such a late hour. Are you having trouble sleeping?" Warm, gentle words calmed her, before Rosa could berate herself for being too careless in an unfamiliar place.

The lord of the manor stood next to a French window; the view no different from those lining the hallway. Cold pane of glass displayed the same bleak landscape of the blackness of night, rubbed out by the white of fierce winter blizzards. 

A fireplace installed by the far corner of the elegantly-outfitted drawing room lent a cozy warmth to the room gilded with gold and fleur-de-lis, the crackling of flames a soothing music that drowned out the dolorous wailing outside. 

He really is so easy on the eyes, no matter what he’s wearing, Warmth suffused her cheeks as she laid her eyes on him. Not even wearing a sleeping robe could diminish Vyn's noble bearing; he still looked every inch the aristocrat, skilled hunter, and scholar that he actually was.

In his right hand was a ceramic teacup steaming with a fragrant infusion; his other hand resting upon the windowsill. 

He seemed to be waiting for a certain someone to find their way here.

As to who that someone was…

His lips curved into a smile after he noticed her staring at him: his gentle expression bore nothing that could hint at any sign of impatience stemming from her indecision over his request; instead his golden eyes—now much brighter with the flames caught in his irises—held nothing for her but thoughtful consideration.

"Do you want me to prepare you some warm milk with honey?" 

"What, to help me sleep?" Rosa flashed a twisted smile as she crossed her arms. 

"Yes. Of course. Unless…" His grin grew wider. "... you would like to do something else that would require you to be awake?" 

An impish grin. 

How delightful.

"Dr. Richter, you once taught me that honesty is amply rewarded. Whatever happened to that?"

A few moments of silence passed between them. It was then that Rosa took the chance to really look at him: slightly tousled moonlight hair as if he too, spent the last few hours trying to sleep, only to finally give up. 

He had a more relaxed gait as he walked—loped—over to an ornate table to set aside the cup that he was holding.

Then he chuckled, in that quiet yet ever so slightly menacing tone. "Ah. Nothing gets past you." The shifting shadows cast by the crackling fireplace flame shifted Vyn Richter—or rather Vilhelm Richard Albert de Haspran—into someone else: his features now sharper, the glint in his eyes even colder . 

To Rosa's eyes it seemed that the shadows had morphed his appearance to that of the cold, standoffish man who dealt with adversity efficiently and without much afterthought; the man who only appeared during NXX operations, or whenever Vilhelm de Haspran was called to duty.

Still himself, yet not quite the same man who had offered to help her sleep with a glass of milk only a few moments ago. An all too palpable shiver ran down Rosa's spine, only to be forgotten as their gazes—gold against peridot—locked onto each other. 

"You never cease to take me by surprise, my rose," he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers, a predator tracking his prey. "Well? Your answer?" His voice runs sweetly, now; low, sensuous, and ever so slightly threatening. "I can wait, if you are still undecided, my pet. I would like to think of myself a patient man. I can wait forever, as long as it is for you." 

"I…" Rosa's voice faltered; she had long angsted over whether or not to say what had been in her mind ever since he propositioned her. 

She finally mouthed the dreaded words: "I think it's unfair." 

"Hm?" Vyn blinked, her assertion seemingly out of left field, his curiosity piqued. "Whatever do you think is unfair?"

Silence prevailed once again, and the ticking of the grandfather clock overlaid with the wailing of winter outside the window spoke for Rosa instead: each ticking told of how long she dithered about her final answer, and the winds eloquently expressed her own turbulent desires, willing to be acknowledged yet being stamped out by a certain fear…  

Vyn shook his head at the sight of his love all too obviously torn apart over something . He opened his arms towards her, wordlessly beckoning her to his embrace. "Come to me," came his tender order. "I shall not do anything inappropriate, if that is your concern." 

The man never lied, but there was a certain dangerous glint in his eyes that gave her pause. 

Despite this Rosa ignored her gut feeling—this was Vyn, after all—and eventually stepped into his orbit, letting his arms pull her close, close enough for her to appreciate the little delightful things that mark his presence: A subtle woodsy scent overlaid with jasmine. His steady, unshaken heartbeat. The coolness of his skin, as she pressed her cheek against his firm chest exposed between the parted lapels of his robe. 

She breathed in his scent deeply, and found herself burying her face in the crook of his neck to partake even more. 

This is dangerous. 

Lips brushed his Adam's apple, perhaps involuntary—or maybe subconsciously deliberate? Rosa could no longer tell the motives behind her actions anymore, but regardless her lips lingered where they were on his skin.

He chuckled at this unexpected show of intimacy. His hands slid up her arms, then gently gripped her shoulders as Vyn slowly led her to the windowsill. The same strong hands—and sinewy arms—suddenly gathered her by the waist. "Up you go," he murmured as he lifted her up to the upholstered window seat, letting her settle down on the soft leather draped with a fur throw blanket. 

"What is unfair?" Vyn repeated the question, his sharp gaze now looking up at her, carefully studying her for any minute movements, or tells. His arms coiled around her waist as he pressed his body against her legs dangling off the edge of the elevated seat. 

He effectively caged her in his embrace, and Rosa could not help but notice how he showed no remorse for it. "These cold nights are long, Rosa, I wish for your companionship during these nights, and more ." He looked up at her with love, tinged with something else underneath the shadows. "Am I not allowed to be selfish?" 

A certain fear gripped her heart, yet it was not of the man right in front of her, so caught up in his own desires. 

It was the fear of something else entirely, and it shook her to the core.

"The way you're cornering me. I thought you would wait for my answer?" Her voice quivered, and her hands slightly trembled. Rosa tried to hide her shaky palms but he quickly took them, entwining his long, slender fingers with her delicate own. 

His hands felt cold, and smooth. 

Rosa wondered if she were dealing with a vampire. 

"Yes, and I am waiting, even right this very moment." Vyn's voice is soft, as if he is trying to entice her into the darkness. "See? My hands are holding yours, and I shall not touch you inappropriately." His smile dripped with dark honey. 

The flames shifted, casting a full shadow over his face for a split second. The small, devious grin that Rosa thought she saw might as well have been the trick of the light. 

"Remember, my darling, that honesty is amply rewarded, as you dared remind me earlier." His thumbs gently rubbed the knuckles of both her hands. "Tell me. Are you afraid of me? Or of the idea of spending several long winter nights alone with me?" 

A slight sense of burgeoning panic sank into the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t ready to have this kind of talk. Not yet. Not when she still hasn’t sorted out her thoughts on the matter, so much that she couldn’t sleep and started wandering the hallways like a ghost to calm herself down.

Vyn, however, seemed oblivious to what was eating her inside, and kept on stroking her knuckle while trapping her between himself and the high windowseat. Lingering warmth from the pads of his thumb imprinted onto the back of her hands; Rosa fancied that each tender swipe of his thumb across the back of her hand held a secret meaning.

They were mere touches on her hand, but each glide upon her skin—and the way he looked at her—were heavy with a certain message.

Rosa gulped nervously. "No." She shook her head. "I've always wanted to spend time with you." 

The fingers of Vyn's left hand now caressed her right wrist—bereft of any ornament—fingertips lightly massaging the skin over her radial artery. "Ah. I wish I could have seen more of you wearing the emerald bracelet," he murmured absently. "It truly belongs only to you, and you alone…" His grip upon her naked wrist slowly tightened. "Do you not like it, after all?"

Rosa blinked, surprised that her usually thoughtful and observant lover would have such an inaccurate take of her predicament. "I love it Vyn, I thought that was clear after everything that happened yesterday." Her left hand squeezed his. "It is a beautiful gift, both in form and meaning. "

"So what is troubling you?" 

"It's…" She shook her head. "It's rather hard to put my fear into words." Rosa's words came quietly, but for Vyn's ears they might as well have been shouted into the mountaintops. 

Vyn almost flinched.

"Ah, so were you overwhelmed with the promise of giving you my entire being and all that it entails? Is that it?" Vyn's eyes misted over with such complicated emotions. "That does make sense of your indecisive behavior after the talk we had during dinner."

"No, that's not it. It's…" She dug her nails into her palms, utterly desperate to grasp the right words and frustrated that they still eluded her. "It's rather hard to explain, Vyn…"

"Do you wish to be with someone of a more… common background?" He hazarded. It was the most logical conclusion. 

Occam's famous razor prevailed most of the time, after all.

The smile on his face withered, as if somewhat chagrined.

"No!" She shook her head firmly. "Damn it, Vyn, this is precisely why I didn't want to have this talk—are you actually telling me you'd be willing to leave Svart's future to fate if I said yes, I wish you weren't a high-ranking nobleman?"

The answer came too quickly for Rosa's liking. "Yes," Vyn said, without any hesitation. "Not once did anyone else care about my simple wishes and needs, Rosa, and it is only fair that I should have the freedom to cast away and reject all unfair expectations placed upon my shoulders." A pause. "But…I would have to admit that I am pleased to know that you are against the very idea. For while I find the entire affair unsavory, I do have my own plans, and a future that can only come into fruition with my own hands."

Rosa, overcome by the weight of the conversation—and the utterly vulnerable position it dragged her into—could only sigh. She didn’t have anything else left to say, yet her heart heaved with such intricate, convoluted emotions that needed to be let out.

" I hate, and I love. ” Lost for words, much less having the ability to advocate for herself, she could do nothing but the next best thing to express her feelings: reciting the only piece of poetry that stuck to her memory from university, and one that resonated the most with her current state of mind. " And if you ask me now, I do not know— "

"... I only feel it, and I am torn in two. " Vyn finished the poem for her. "Catullus. Interesting man, a wretched, obsessive lover." He brought one of her hands to his lips, pale pink ribbons ghosting her knuckle, before giving it a chaste kiss. "Quite familiar, is he not?"

"If the someone I have in mind would tell me to…" Rosa cleared her throat. "Open my legs to hundreds of men after a lover's quarrel." Her lips cracked into a smile, despite herself.

"He would not dare," Vyn carefully yet firmly pulled her hand down, forcing Rosa to bend down towards him, bringing her face close to his. "He would rather shoot his own head and feed his miserable self to the beasts," he murmured against her lips.

A moist warmth pressed against Rosa's mouth; Vyn had closed his eyes and taken her kiss. The fluttering silver of his long lashes filled her vision before she, too, closed her eyes and further deepened the kiss with soft nibbling of his lower lip, before shyly slipping her tongue into his mouth.

"Mmm…" A delighted hum rose from his throat; his hands now slowly stroked her back, his fingertips trailing faint tendrils of electricity across her skin with his light, almost teasing touches. Their breaths intermingled with their soft moans and barely-spoken words of affection as hands wandered beyond what was appropriate between a man and a woman.

His mouth disengaged from hers with a muffled pop sound. "The jam from dinner was indeed sweet, but as it turns out…" He ran the tip of his tongue over her lips, then grinned quite wickedly as he withdrew. "It got in the way of appreciating just how sweet your kisses are, my beloved."

"Well, you went and took your kiss…are you still waiting for my answer?"

Rosa flashed him a wan smile. There was still something unresolved between them, but she wasn’t ready to bring her grievances to the table, and risk ruining what they have in the process. It was a cowardly choice to make, but Rosa, too, was selfish.

Despite the doubts weighing her down, Rosa rather liked being ensconced in Vyn’s arms—ignoring that he was doing so to twist her arm, so to speak, to give into his desire and all that it entails—trapped between his all-consuming obsession and the cruel winter beyond the glass window behind her.

"Did you really think I was only asking for a kiss, poppet?" A hand casually slipped over her hip; his thumb absently tracing concentric circles in the tender flesh of her inner thigh, just a few inches shy of her entrance. "I thought you to be more…perceptive." 

"Really now, Vilhelm de Haspran, resorting to low key barbs?"

" Albert . You better get used to calling me by that name." 

"All right then, Albert," Rosa said offhandedly, then immediately realized the implications of calling him by that name. A hand rose to her lips. "Oh. Um."

"Very few people have the privilege to call me so intimately." Vyn pretended that he didn't notice her realizing the significance of the gesture only right at that very moment. "You are one of them."

His hand on her thigh stopped moving, but it stayed there, resting upon her soft flesh; the heat on his palm seeping through the fabric of her nightgown. 

"...Thank you, Albert." Rosa leaned down once again, this time planting a kiss on his forehead. Yet the chasteness of her gesture did not diminish the different kind of warmth that exuded from his palm that nestled a little too comfortably on her inner thigh. "...what exactly are you doing?" 

"Softening you up for my little interrogation." He did not bother hiding his intentions; the way his thumb slid up to finger the edge of her panties through her nightgown, and how his other hand stroked her back—slowly, and sensually, deliberately sending sparks of tiny little pleasures where he made light contact—proved how serious he actually was.

"I hope this is working for you?" He teased Rosa, elated that his magic worked so well, his success marked by the small, sweet-sounding moans escaping her lips, and the delightful squirming of her thighs. 

"... You have no idea what you're doing," Rosa murmured quietly, acutely aware of her rapidly heating skin. Yet the words did not reach him; they were drowned out by the violent shrieking of winter winds, strong enough to slightly rattle the glass behind her. 

"Hm? Speak a little louder for me, pet?" Both of his hands now cupped her cheeks, tenderly pulling her face to his. He put his lips next to her ear. "What did you say just now?" Even the movement of his lips against her ear was maddening, and Rosa knew the contact was deliberate. She bit her lip, willfully ignoring the slight dampness on the crotch of her panties.

"..." Rosa said nothing; the way Vyn's fingers still played with the lace edging of her silk underwear threw off the rhythm of her breathing. Her body’s response seemed to amuse him; he now lightly brushed the pad of his finger against the fabric covering her slit. 

The shuddering of her thighs made him sigh in delight. "I think you are ready for a few questions." There was an amused lilt to his tone, if not a little dark. He slid his lips down from the lobe of her ear, down to the tender junction where her neck met the shoulder. "So you hate, and you love," he said, lips planting small kisses down her shoulder. "That was more than a hint. What do you hate? "

Rosa gave him an odd look as he carried out his tiny, yet maddening ministrations. "I hate…" she began, then stilled her tongue. 

Did she even deserve someone like him worrying for her? Vyn had given her no reason to doubt herself, and had told her a thousand and one reasons why she is worth his affection—but there was no easy way to gloss over the fact that Vilhelm was not only a self possessed person, he was the symbol of change against an oppressive ideology. 

She never forgot that detail, no matter how much Vyn tried to downplay it; even during her rare times together with him that particular knowledge hung over her head like a sword, threatening to cut their ties to each other at any time when his duty called for him to take certain action.

Like a political marriage, for instance.

Was she good enough to stand beside someone like him? If she asked him, she knew he would say yes , but…

“You hate…?” He prompted once again. He pulled the fur throw blanket over her shoulders, and wrapped it around her body. “I will not let you go, Rosa, until you have been truly honest with me.” There was not a trace of mirth on his face. “Not after you had brazenly accused me of not being truthful earlier.”

His hands slipped inside the fur coat, and slowly crept up along her abdomen.

“Wait, V–Albert,” she quickly corrected herself, only to let out another moan as he pulled the wide neckline of her nightgown all the way down to her elbows, leaving her chest naked underneath the blanket. “Y-you said you wouldn’t do anything inappropriate!”

“And I said no lie, Rosa.” A trail of kisses ran from the base of her neck and back up to her ear. “Is petting not an appropriate activity between lovers, especially on cold, lonely nights such as tonight?” There it was, once again, his low, melodious tone flowing down her ears directly to her loins. “Keep in mind, beloved, that I will let you decide if you want to receive some…” An accidental brush of his fingers on her stiff nipple. “...relief.”

Rosa whimpered. Problems can be solved later. 

Maybe after…after…

“ Someone is not being as truthful in more ways than one, despite what she said earlier.” He ran his hands all over her shivering body naked underneath the fur blanket, while deliberately avoiding her breasts. “Again, Rosa. What is it that you hate about me ?”

No, I don’t hate you.

“...I’m afraid that I’m not worthy of you.”

I hate myself.

Vyn immediately stopped. 

The magic of the moment, irretrievably lost. Gone was the passionate magic of the crackling flames, and in their place, a sobering cold that flooded the drawing room. He pulled away from the heated embrace; Vyn now regarded his lover solemnly in an effort to address her fears .

“Despite all my assurances,” he began, but with more tenderness than reproach. He pulled out his hands from underneath the fur blanket, and held her— properly , this time—with his arms loosely wrapped around her waist. “Why do you still think that you are not worthy of me?”

Rosa took a deep breath, both to steel herself and to brush away the cobwebs of lust fogging her mind. “The usual concerns. I have no political value whatsoever. A cultural outsider. And…” She wrung her hands underneath the blanket. “I’ve always thought that…that your love for me is getting in the way of certain things…”

Vyn narrowed his eyes. They already had this talk before; to hear her voice out the same anxieties that he had thought were already put to rest was worrisome indeed.

“Has someone been poisoning your mind, Rosa?” It was the wrong way to phrase the question—especially given his chosen career—but the idea of certain entities actively driving a wedge between him and the only one he ever cared about in an attempt to control him was not at all farfetched, given the political climate. He needed to ask the questions directly, and deal with the matter with absolute urgency.

If that was the case, anyway.

Rosa shook her head. “No, Albert. Actually…” Her voice trailed off into indecision, yet again.

“Please, Rosa,” Vyn sounded as if he was almost begging . “Tell me.”

Rosa carefully looked down at him from her elevated perch by the window, and could only see a man carefully put together, yet on the verge of falling apart.

The epiphany that she sought the moment she decided to give up chasing sleep, only to wander the hallways earlier, finally dawned upon her: He, too, was troubled by something that occurred during—or sometime around—dinner. His insistence on hearing her answer to his request, if she would let him kiss her, or not, was a mere ruse to suss out something else entirely.

“Rosa?” His poker face obscured his expression from view, but the way he prodded her for any response was enough to tell her that he was almost desperate.

“Fine,” she finally relented. “But please, understand that the problem lies with me only.” She looked at Vyn, who now waited for her to speak her mind. “I’m sorry I lied to you for sometime now,” she said as she fidgeted in her seat. “No, I’m still having a hard time swallowing the differences between our lives, Albert. But I still keep trying, because I love you.”

“I sense a ‘but’ there, Rosa,” Vyn said quietly. “Would you tell me what it is?”

She nodded. “I was fine with it, really. Figured it was only a matter of learning your customs, and watching you, mostly. But…” She fell silent, mulling if she really should tell him; she feared the truth behind it . Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal, really; it was nothing but a mere offhanded task that he gave to Ogier…

But she decided to trust the man holding onto her, and she leapt off the edge and into the great uncertainty.

“But everything changed when you told Ogier to control the spread of our footage from yesterday’s competition. That’s…that’s when I finally realized…” Rosa took a deep breath. “I may be getting in the way of…of…”

“Of?” Vyn’s voice was controlled, but she could tell that he was almost agitated. “You, getting in the way of…?”

Finally exasperated, Rosa threw up her hands. The sudden gesture shrugged the fur blanket off her shoulders, letting it pool around her thighs and exposing her naked torso in the process .“Oh, I don’t know…political matters? Things bigger than I am? That our relationship has to be hidden from public view?” She covered her breasts with her arms in reflex, and she looked away in embarrassment. “So…yes. That is why I’m now very reluctant about things and, I don’t know, Albert…I don’t even know if I still have the right to call you that, now that you know what’s been in my mind for so long. I believe you deserve someone else who can readily support you in these matters, even if…I…” 

She was finally able to voice out—or admit, also to herself—what troubled her so much, but it only brought her misery. Her lower lip trembled. “...I love you, really. But I don’t think I…” 

The words stopped coming, the rest of the message delivered by the teardrops running down her cheeks.

“So…it was my fault after all.” Vyn said, utterly mortified by his lack of foresight. He was being careless, and took for granted how easily Rosa could pick up on odd, suspicious behaviors around her. It was one of her talents, and yet he may have grown too complacent, too comfortable, to realize that his own actions may still provoke certain responses from her, as she would do with other people. “Rosa, shh , come here, let me explain…”

He carefully wrapped the fur blanket over her shoulders once again, before gathering her into his arms. “I apologize, Rosa,” he said as he laid her on the sofa, holding her close to him to share each other’s bodily warmth. “Are you comfortable, my love?”

Rosa nodded quietly, then sniffled. 

“I am sorry,” Vyn apologized once again, enveloping her in his embrace, placing his chin on the top of her head. “The foremost intention behind why I had Ogier control the spread of the footage was to maintain the integrity of my identity as Vilhelm M.” He sought out one of her hands from within the blanket, and held it tight. “But…I do admit that my plans are not quite ready to have you exposed to the world as my chosen betrothed. Not yet.” 

Rosa froze in his arms for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. “That was what I was afraid of.” She tried to pull her hand away from his hold, but he would not let go. “Albert, please …I don’t want to influence you into making unwise decisions. I am already happy and honored that you feel this way for me—”

“The only unwise decision I would be making is if I let you go based on those unfounded fears.” Vyn’s voice sounded oddly lifeless, and mechanical. “I have made several concessions throughout my life out of duty, Rosa, not because of want nor the allure of prestige—but the moment they dare force upon me a bride who is not you, they will regret doing so . Each and every one of them. I say this as fact, and not as a mere threat. Do you understand what I am trying to say?”

She said nothing in reply, quietly holding on to his hand instead, feeling its weight in her palm. His hand felt heavy, weighed down by responsibility he did not quite ask for.

He shifted on the sofa, gently nudging Rosa to turn around and look at him. “Look at me, love,” he whispered, smoothing away her tears. “As much as I would like to play the part of an understanding gentleman, I could not find it in myself to say ‘if you do not want to stay with me, you may leave if you so wish’, because you are the only one I ever wanted my entire life, Rosa, and I cannot imagine how life would be without you.” He took her face in his hands, and kissed the lone tear still rolling down her cheek. “If we did not meet, if you have never stepped into my study that one day…” He pursed his lips, carefully thinking of what to say next. “Let me put it this way: I would have turned out to be quite unlikeable.”

His words, simple and succinct, struck her heart like a lightning bolt. She knew what he meant. She knew what Vyn Richter was capable of; but with the power afforded to Vilhelm de Haspran…

Rosa shivered, and without knowing it she clung to the lapels of his robe, her mind too preoccupied with the idea of being in a world where her Vyn did not exist. 

“But we are both here.” A tender kiss upon her brow. “Is there anything that matters more than what we have right now?” His face—wearing nothing but his longing for her—descended upon hers, eclipsing the golden light of the room with brushes of dark silver before she let herself drown once again in his ardent, heartfelt kissing.

Time flew by unnoticed as they shared warmth and physical expressions of love to one another. None of them heard the ticking of the grandfather clock, nor of the ominous-sounding chimes that marked the fourth hour of the morning; the only other sounds filling the room were of whispered pledges of love, mixed in with sighs and sweet, wet kisses.

By the time Rosa pulled away to compose herself, her blanket and nightgown were already discarded by the foot of the sofa, as was Vyn’s sleeping robe. 

“My darling, my Rosa,” Vyn breathed, his eyes transfixed upon the beauty straddling him on the sofa, her hips quite dangerously close to his. “Please, kiss me more.” A flush of color colored his face down to his chest; together with the faint sheen of moisture over their bodies these were indelible evidences how much he wanted her. “Or is there anything else that you need to—hahh, gods, if you do that—”

Her hips slid downwards, leaving a trace of wetness down his abdomen until the tip of something poked the small of her back. Rosa willfully ignored it, for the meantime. “Yes, Albert, there is something else…” her voice was low, and cadenced, as if she was about to tell a terrible secret, or relay bad news. “I…I am afraid to tell you this, even if we’re already in this kind of relationship.”

A shadow crossed her hooded olive eyes. From Vyn’s vantage point she looked every bit the temptress: shadow and light from the fireplace playing upon her skin, accentuating her soft curves; yet her face—her eyes—were that of a predator. “It made my problem considerably worse, you see…”

“Please, tell me.” Vyn bit his lip, fighting with all his being the very instinct to just take Rosa and rut into her as hard as her could. “We have come so far together, Rosa, there is no point having reservations around each other.”

“Fine.” She planted her palms onto his chest, and leaned down to whisper, “Despite my reservations earlier, I…” A pause. “I want you so much, Albert. I’ve never wanted a man this much, even I’m scared of myself.” Her breath shuddered and told of an unbearable want, barely suppressed. “I was afraid you’d be disgusted with me.”

A hiss escaped through his lips, yet Vyn kept his hands to himself. “There is nothing wrong, much less disgusting, with lusting after a man, my pet, especially if the man is reciprocating.” He spoke in a more casual, conversational tone, like he would when addressing a patient. But his hungry eyes told a different story. “So you want me as a man. Show me, then, just how—oh, damn it—”

Having received his explicit permission, Rosa did not bother letting him finish; her absolute thirst , hidden, and secretly tended to for almost a year, completely overwhelmed her and dictated her movements. A delicate hand grasped his cock that had been poking at her derriere for quite some time now; she smiled in a twisted delight as she felt it twitch in her hand. “I so wanted to do this so much—the daydreams were quite distracting—” She shimmied a bit lower to align the glans to her throbbing heat. 

Loud moans reverberated against the walls embellished in forest green paisley; so much that Rosa thought she saw a shadow cross the corner nearest the door, disappearing with a nigh-inaudible click .

“ Already , pet?” Vyn huffed, his hands pawing at her breasts, “Do you not wish for us to linger and —ahh… ” He threw his head back deeper into the throw pillows, relishing the sensation of his lady love quite eagerly bouncing on his cock. Finally, he thought as he grasped her waist to hold Rosa in place above his hips, thrusting hard and fast into her cunt. Finally. He earned the long-awaited pay off of his chase , even if it did not turn out the way he had envisioned it in his mind. 

The end still justified the means, even the accidental ones. 

“Nggh—Albert, that’s…yes…!” Rosa rocked her hips in time with his, now riding him in earnest. 

Vyn opened his eyes to the wonderfully debauched sight of his beloved using him to pleasure herself; her breasts and hair bouncing with each lewd—yet beautiful—movement. “You are doing good, Rosa, do not be afraid to take what is yours,” he whispered, his voice now low and unmistakably lascivious. “Learn to let loose your arrow when you want to.”

He was nearing, and the way her thighs started to tense up he knew that she, too, was about to reach her climax. “Please, Albert…ngh,” Rosa gritted her teeth, one hand slipping between their bodies to rub her clit. “Be quiet. I just want to enjoy this, I…” She bit her lip. Almost there . “I was convinced our relationship won’t last and this wouldn’t—”

“Shush, poppet,” Vyn interrupted her, shifting his position underneath her just enough to let him suck on her breast. “Mmm…I am sorry, but it seems your daydreams will have new material to distract you with.” He chuckled, until his laughter quickly changed into helpless moans the moment he felt her inner walls clench around his cock. “ Fuck ,” he groaned, followed with a string of words Rosa could not quite follow.

Orgasm came violently for both of them, and as he plunged deep into her and shot his hot, dripping semen inside her cunt Vyn pulled her down for the deepest, most erotic kiss they have ever shared during the course of their romantic relationship: tongue sliding against tongue, lips red and raw and almost bleeding.

Eventually they had to pull away, gasping for air. “Wear your emerald bracelet for me, Rosa. Wear it as often as you can.” Tongue trailed the length of her collarbone. “I want people to see who you are pledged to.” The journey of his tongue across her clavicle ended with a small nip on her shoulder.

“Hey, stop that!” Rosa had to let out a small laugh. “Well…that’s certainly a change of heart. Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Vyn said, his tone rather sulky. He held her close to him, unwilling to let go. “My father has already given us his blessing. That alone should suffice.”

Rosa blinked at the knowledge that Eirik had so readily supported his son’s decision. Yet there were other players on the board that needed consideration. “But you mentioned…The Church…”

“We needed to deal with them for quite some time now. The ‘when’ matters not in the grand scheme of things. Let me—us—handle them.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. “Do not fret about such insignificant matters.”

“Mm.” Rosa chewed on her lower lip, her mind percolating a certain thought. “There is one thing I’d like to know, though.”

“Ask away.” His hand traveled down to the sweet moist flesh between her thighs, fingers lightly teasing her slit. “What is it?”

“Hey…” Rosa squirmed on top of him, but all it did was to accidentally insert a finger inside her. “Oh god, Albert. What are you doing?”

“Poking at the embers to start the flame again,” came the matter-of-fact answer, still fondling her, slipping a second finger inside her hole. “Now. Your question?”

“ Mnh—hahh —” Her hips started to grind against his hand; his thumb strummed her clit, while his index and middle fingers moved inside her. “God…” she gritted her teeth, then asked anyway, “Why me? Why go through all the— nngh —trouble?”

“ Heh. ” Vyn grinned as he sat up and laid Rosa down on the upholstery, taking care to prop her back with pillows. “Why indeed?” A brief moment of silence followed; he knelt between her legs, parting her thighs just enough to make room for him. Loud huffs of shallow breathing and occasional wet sounds broke the silence; he had started to pleasure her using his mouth with gusto: tongue running along the length of her slit; his lips sucking on her stiff clitoris until her flesh throbbed in wet arousal once again.

“Wait, Vyn, it’s too much, I haven’t…” She tried to wrest away from his hold, but his arms had locked around her thighs and all she could do was squirm. After several sweet, torturous minutes—or seconds? Rosa could not tell anymore—Vyn emerged from between her legs, licking his lips clean of her juice mixed with traces of his own cum. “Honey upon my lips…You are quite ready now, pet.” 

He pulled her ass to the edge of the sofa, parting her legs even wider. “The moment I laid eyes upon you was the first time I have truly ever wanted, sweet Rosa, and I do not want to forget this sweet pain of desire,” he said, finally remembering to answer her question. Vyn knelt upright, rubbing her wet slit with the tip of his jutting cock as he continued, “And I will never stop desiring you. Time and time again you have proven me wrong on so many things, I am now resigned to knowing I could never fully own you.” He sighed in longing, loving eyes trained upon her as he prepared to enter her once more. “There will always be something about you out of my arrow’s reach, my love, and that is perfect. ”

With that, he drove his entire length inside her with a single snap of his hips. “ Hnngh , hahaha, yes… ” 

“Damn it, Albert, that is too much for someone like— nngh —me to handle— oh god! ”

“That is fine, take your time, I will guide you all throughout.” He started moving, slowly for now, making sure that his entire length ran inside her with every push and pull of his hips. “You now own my entire being, and soon enough I will lay the entire world at your feet." He leaned forward slightly, taking both her hands, pinning them onto the sofa. “But for now…”

Their fingers entwined, and Vyn had Rosa, his rarest, most cherished instrument, singing and performing only for him, and him alone. 

Singing enchanting songs that easily tune out the sad, bitter waiting of winter outside.  

[writtengalaxies]

Choices

The Cup God Chronicles :: Part 5

Characters: The God of Night, GN!Reader

Word Count: 833

Spicy Rating: Warning for reader's language (foul mouthed as always), and a touch of angst!

You hit the "End Call" button on your phone, slowly lowering it to the table before burying your head into your hands.

You fucked up.

You fucked up so badly. How the hell were you going to deal with this one?

Okay, in the grand scheme of things, had this been literally any normal circumstance, you'd be fine!

But this wasn't a normal circumstance.

"Oh, yeah, great, fine, fantastic." The words slipped from you as your mind began to race, trying to plan around this.

"What is?" As per normal, the God of Night just appeared next to you, helping himself to something out of your cabinets. You didn't bother looking up, not at first. You had gotten used to him just showing up like this.

"I got invited to a party." Another beat. "Originally it was going to be a night out, but I really don't like partying like that, so it's just like. A chill barbeque, afternoon at a friend's place sort of deal."

"Sounds like fun. I shall endeavor to not just show up where you are."

"About that." You finally lifted your head from your hands to look at him, sighing softly. "I. Might have panicked when I was asked how I was doing and...said I was. Dating someone."

The god turned, pulling a spoon out of his mouth in surprise. "You are? Who are they?" You stared, raising an eyebrow at him, until the connection clicked in his mind. "Oh! Me! You meant me! But we aren't, as per your request...I'm still figuring out the mortal customs for wooing that are socially acceptable. They keep changing."

"I know. But they want to meet you. And I don't have a good excuse for why you're not there, and I hate trying to come up with shit about people, and I'd feel shitty for lying. So...If you can..."

"Fantastic, more little mortals. Really, so entertaining..."

He stuck the spoon back into what you now realized was a bowl full of the strange combination of coffee grounds and pure cocoa powder with a dusting of chili flakes, stirring it all together before bringing a new spoonful to his mouth.

"...I'm going to need you to pretend to be normal for one fucking day." You sighed, dropping your head back into your hands, not wanting to even question whatever the hell food crime he was doing now. "And I need to come up with some sort of reasonable backstory for you. I can't just introduce you as a god."

"I'm always normal, moonbeam." He lifted another spoonful to his mouth, raising an eyebrow. "And, truly, whyever not?"

"I don't want those implications from my friends," you groan, dropping your head backwards now, slowly sliding down in your seat. "Because no one's going to thing like...god god. They're going to think. Things. Nope. No thank you, I'm not letting them get that on me. So. Human backstory time."

"Nickolas Darcel, you call me Nick for short. I work overnight shifts somewhere that I can't tell you about because it's one of those government top secret things. I can make the spiral not...noticeable to others, if that also brings some peace of mind."

You blink, staring at him as he continues to crunch his food crimes. He already had a cover story. This... might actually work.

-------------------------------------

It did. It was working. Against all logical odds, it was working. 

You were having so much fun, and the way you two slotted together, talking about things with ease. Someone had even said that he seemed like a good fit for you, leaving your face feeling hot in a way that was confusing. Still, you can't believe this was something that felt...good, actually. Really good.

Or it was.

It was until someone mentioned the hour, and he blanched, turning to look at you. Sunset, he mouthed, making you realize just how late it was. The sun should have gone down an hour ago. You turned to your friend nearest to you, made an excuse about his overnight shift somewhere, and nearly sprinted to your car with him. He didn't join you for even the short ride, looking panicked as he called up a Door in front of you for the first time, moving in such a way that implied an existence of one that you couldn't see.

That was about 4 hours ago.

You were left now with all the swirling thoughts in your head, concerns about what to do, if this was right.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, a twisting uneasiness.

What could make a god look that freaked out? Did night not happen unless The God of Night was there to do his job? Did he lose track of time that easily around you?

...Was it that good of an idea to actually try and let him want to date you?

This couldn't work out. You couldn't let it happen.

It just made sense.

So why did that thought hurt so much?

[butterboy69420]

I have a hot and spicy take on Boa Hancock, now that I'm all caught up to One Piece and stuff. First of all, her crush on Luffy is iffy because of the age gap and with Luffy being 17. I can confidently say it won't go anywhere though because Luffy straight up says he won't marry her. He also doesn't seem like the type of person to be invested in romance and attraction to anyone, caring more for adventure. That being said, given Hancock's backstory and her having to put up a cold front all the time due to her trauma, of course the first person who shows her genuine kindness and looks past her appearance is going to leave an impact on her. She feels things towards Luffy that she probably has never felt before as she doesn't know how to navigate her feelings towards his behavior due to it being so foreign to her. Probably mistakes it for love, probably does genuinely love him and isn't concerned about how inappropriate it is because she wasn't ever really shown it. Especially with the implications of her backstory and her having to do things for the entertainment of older men, I do wonder if she is unintentionally projecting that onto how she views Luffy? But yeah, strong attachment to the first guy who treats her like a person. That is often how things go.

Anyways, my point is, my girl needs therapy.

[mechanicalinertia]

STMPD Recommends Cyberpunk: Edgerunners Fanfiction: ArrowSMorgan's Group Chat

Remember how I said I wasn't super invested in Cyberpunk Edgerunners? Well, uh, I guess I lied. The anime itself is okay at best, BGC is better, but there's some pretty dope fanfiction in all this mess.

Yes, that's right, I'm doing reviews of Edgerunners fanfiction, stuff that has more views than even Divine Patronage by an order of magnitude more often than not. Most are, as I said in my previous post on the topic, true-blue copium and know it - one might say that an ending which revels in killing off all its cast save two is a bit of a bummer and cries out for alternatives. I've even seen one fic, one which I haven't read yet, argue that a different ending might actually be more punk, less, uh, nihilist? I think that was the implication.

Anyway, let's start with the Edgerunners fanfic that has over 50K views and has earned every single one of them. Ladies and Gentlemen: Group Chat.

The premise is simple if goofy: Lucy, main heroine of the show, starts a group chat for everyone to dick around in, except for Pilar 'cause the last time they did one with him he got people arrested. Which is painfully ironic, because 2 chapters in and the immediate topic of conversation is Lucy talking to Rebecca about how massive David's dick is. Other topics of conversation that come up - how old Kiwi is and how Rebecca thinks anyone who's mature is automatically old, Rebecca's weird cat Butterbean, whether or not Maine is David's dad... and then Maine and Dorio bite it.

And then the second trick the premise is pulling besides shitposting comedy comes into play. Namely, the characters actually communicate to one another. David gets depressed, like really depressed, like as depressed as you would expect from losing the only father figure he ever had in his life, and instead of resolving to hunt down every netrunner who might come after David, Lucy actually tells Rebecca what's going on, and gets her and Kiwi to go buy him groceries and weed and Stay At His House.

After that, communication... happens! And that leads into what even the author calls a Tenchi Muyo situation, with David hooking up with Lucy, Becca, and Kiwi (yes! yes, the Kiwi who decided to sell David out in the anime before he dragged her down with him, that Kiwi!) all at once! And then things get weirder when David meets Adam Smasher in a bar! And they actually get along okay even though they both know better than to try being friends, but David's like super chill with the big ol' murder-borg who talks like, in David's own words, an anime villain! (Smasher types in all caps, too, because of course he does. It reminds me of Homestuck in a lot of weird but good ways.)

So the fic is mostly slice-of-life, with sex scenes relegated to spinoff fanfictions in the same 'series', and with a multi-viewpoint action sequence turned into this really cool micro-visual-novel in itch.io. It's all good fun, like really good fun, especially once the gang settles down and unwinds a little and the world is built out in amusing ways - Kiwi being a master at fighting games, David trying to make Arasaka-brand curry and making sure to get the right brand, not the Adam Smasher super-spicy stuff, David being super cute with Rebecca's cat, David getting to beat up Katsuo again for a different job. Despite still feeling grounded in the world of 2077, it all feels natural, humane, wholesome in a way a lot of other fix-it fics can't quite nail. It feels like - and I'm pretty sure this was the intent, the author's a Fate fan - the Hollow Ataraxia to the main Fate Stay Night.

And what better note to end on than that? Hollow Ataraxia's a blast to read, and so is Group Chat, for roughly the same silly reasons.

Damn. I'm really getting into Edgerunners fanfic even though most of it is a) copium and b) not always of the highest quality. Watch this space; I've got more coming.

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - After You Use the Safe Word

Warnings: sexual implication (obviously), could be triggering, slight profanity

A/N: I'm sorry this has no prequel but I wasn't really all that comfortable with writing it (mostly because I don't think I'd be much good at writing spicy scenes) but this was quite requested so here it is :) By the way, writing this hit me right in the feels <3

Jin

The moment you uttered your safe word, Jin froze and his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He pulled on some pants and scooped you up into his arms, asking if you were okay. You nodded against his chest although you were not quite sure of it yourself.

Jin carried you to the bathroom and made you a nice warm bath. He helped you clean yourself and caressed your hair as you rested your head against a soft towel.

His eyes were big and childlike, observing you with every care in the world as you came down from your high.

"Are you okay?" Jin whispered once again, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. Your eyes slowly opened and found his. Your brows scrunched into a small frown when you realized how concerned he was about you although you did not feel that bad at all. It was just too intense and you wanted to stop but you did not feel hurt at all, not physically nor mentally.

"Yeah, everything's okay," you whispered and rose your own hand to Jin's cheek. He kissed the inside of your palm, holding it to his cheek although it was dripping with bubbles.

"Do you..." Jin's voice broke as he looked down for a moment before finding your eyes again, "Do you still trust me?"

You frowned, tears forcing into your eyes.

"Of course I trust you, Jin," you reassured him. You sat up in the bath and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. Jin buried his nose in the nook of your neck, not minding the water dripping down his bare back.

"I'm so fucking sorry, princess," he murmured. For a moment, you were not sure whether it was just the water from the bath or whether a tear slipped from Jin's eye. Nevertheless, you hugged him even tighter and kissed his shoulder.

"It's okay, Jin. I'm okay, I promise."

Namjoon

Your safe word was like an alarm in Namjoon's head. He backed away immediately, letting you have your space.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asked quickly, yearning to caress your cheek and hold you but he did not want to touch you until he knew you were comfortable with it.

You were breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. You nodded absent-mindedly but you were not entirely sure of yourself.

"Baby?" Namjoon breathed before he rushed into the bathroom and let the water run in the bath. He came back with a big soft towel and wrapped it around your body before he scooped you into his arms. You leaned against his chest, savouring the safety and warmth of his touch.

"Y/N, please tell me you're okay, please tell me I didn't hurt you," whispered Namjoon over and over again as he caressed your hair. You nodded again before slipping your arm around his torso, holding yourself close to him.

"Come, baby. Let's give you a nice bath," suggested Namjoon but you murmured a 'no'.

"Please, just hold me," you managed a whisper, snuggling even closer to Namjoon if that was even possible.

"Okay," he agreed and kissed the top of your head.

Namjoon drew shapes into your skin until you were ready to talk to him. He listened to every single word you said about how you felt and what made you use your safe word. You needed to reassure him you were alright before he let you out of his arms.

You took the bath Namjoon made for you while he ordered some takeaway and the two of you settled on the couch. Your legs were intertwined as you leaned against his chest, savouring his gentle caresses.

Yoongi

Yoongi went completely still when he heard you utter your safe word. You had never had to use it before and the thought terrified him. He stopped what he was doing and pulled you into his arms. Yoongi caressed your cheek and your hair as he held you close.

"Are you okay? Are you okay, princess? I'm so so sorry, I'm so sorry Y/N," he repeated over and over again whilst pressing soft kisses to your head.

"It's okay," you murmured beneath your breath although you were still distressed. Yoongi did not hurt you, far from it. But it was just too intense and you could not take it anymore.

You wrapped your arms around his waist as you rested your head against his bare chest.

After you had calmed down, Yoongi took a shower with you and helped you clean yourself and make you comfortable. He cooked a meal for you whilst you sat at the kitchen table, watching him prepare the food carefully.

When Yoongi placed the plate of food before you, he kissed your forehead, his palm caressing your cheek.

"Are you sure you're okay, princess?" he spoke quietly, looking you dead in the eye.

"I'm okay, Yoongi."

"Are you sure?" he asked again, not daring to sit down until you reassured him.

"Yes, I promise," you swore, concerned yourself upon seeing the worry in his dark eyes.

Yoongi nodded absent-mindedly and sat down himself. He did not make a plate for himself, too worried to have an appetite. But you would not let him just sit there whilst you ate. You put some pasta on your fork and zoomed it towards his mouth.

Yoongi's eyes turned still and big like a child's as he saw the smile on your lips when you held the food in front of him. With a reassuring sigh, Yoongi could not help but smile himself and take the fork you were offering him into his mouth.

"I loooove youuuuu," you cooed, trying to cheer him up.

"I love you too," Yoongi murmured under his breath as he looked down with a smile, a gentle blush creeping to his cheeks.

Hoseok

You backed away as the safe word escaped your mouth. You had to pace your breath, overwhelmed by emotion.

"Fuck, baby, are you okay?" hurried Hoseok, quickly pulling on some pants before he came over to you. He cupped your cheeks and made you look at him. Hoseok studied your eyes, his own big and worried.

"I'm okay," you nodded out of breath, your knees nearly touching your chest.

Hoseok grabbed a blanked and wrapped you in it before he took you in his arms. You leaned your head against his chest whilst he drew shapes into your arms and legs, trying to make you feel safe and loved. It worked because you calmed down fast enough although he himself needed reassuring.

Hoseok kept asking how you were feeling, treating you even more delicately than usual. You asked him to take a shower with you. You washed each other's bodies, hugging for long minutes as hot water poured down your skin.

"I'm so sorry, baby," whispered Hoseok as he leaned his forehead against yours, "I'm so sorry..."

You cupped his cheeks and made him look you in the eye. His eyes were big and remorseful and full of concern and care for you.

"It's okay, I'm okay, Hobi," you spoke to him gently, "That's why we have safe words - so that we don't make each other uncomfortable," you tried to rationalise it but Hoseok was not entirely convinced of your words.

It was not until you kissed him tenderly that he responded to you ever so gently. Hoseok caressed your smooth skin and pulled you closer.

"I love you so much, Y/N... You know I'd never hurt you..." whispered Hoseok against your neck.

"You didn't hurt me Hobi, I promise," you assured and ran your hand down his wet hair as you held each other. "I love you too."

Jimin

Jimin's heart stopped entirely when you spoke your safe word. His eyes went wide and he stopped immediately. Like a reflex, Jimin went to you, wrapping you into one of the soft sheets.

"Are you okay? Princess, are you alright? I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I took it too far," repeated Jimin over and over again, his touch never more gentle as he caressed your head to his chest.

You were breathing fast and your eyes were heavy but you were alright. You licked your dry lips and nodded absent-mindedly whilst you slowly came down from your high. The tension eventually left your body and Jimin was there to hold you, make you feel safe throughout every second of it.

"I'm sorry," you murmured against his chest, your eyes slowly opening.

"What? No, don't say that," Jimin cut you off almost roughly. "Don't you fucking apologize to me when I'm the one that should be sorry."

"But I'm okay, Jimin," you rose your head and looked up into Jimin's eyes.

"Are you sure, princess?" he asked in all seriousness and caressed your cheek.

"I promise," you nodded.

The two of you took a nice long bath together, wrapped up in each other's arms as water washed over your bodies. Jimin drew shapes into your body and peppered you with loving butterfly kisses. Afterwards you cuddled up on the couch with a cup of cocoa and watched a movie, your fingers intertwined.

Taehyung

As you uttered your safe word, a small wave of panic came over you. Like an instinct, you backed away into the headboard and pulled the covers to your chest. You were breathing heavily as Taehyung remained unmoving, his eyes big and concerned.

"Y/N, are you okay?" asked Taehyung gently, his hand reaching out to you slowly but you were not responding.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I need... c-can we stop?" you asked weakly, your chest rising and falling fast.

"Yes, of course," Taehyung nodded quickly and immediately got dress. "I'm going to draw you a bath, princess."

Taehyung hurried into the bathroom and made you a bath with all of your favourite products before he put some sheets in the dryer to make them nice and warm for you.

When he returned to the bedroom, you were much calmer than before. The look in your eyes told him everything. Taehyung came over to you and pulled you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you leaned against his bare chest. His skin was soft and warm and you felt safe and loved.

Afterwards, Taehyung carried you to the bathroom and watched you take a bath. He was leaning his against the edge of the bathtub as he sat on the floor, his fingers locking with your own.

"Are you okay?" he whispered after some time, needing to know you were alright. His big brown eyes watched you with every care as you looked up at him, finally realizing how deeply concerned he truly was. Taehyung tried to keep calm though, only not to upset you any further.

"Yeah," you nodded and sat up slightly.

"Are you sure?" asked Taehyung quietly, such sadness dripping from his voice it broke your heart. For the first time since you met him, Taehyung avoided your gaze, ashamed of himself.

"Tae..." you began, caressing his cheek to make him meet your eyes. "I'm okay, I promise. You didn't do anything wrong."

"You're not... hurt?" he asked carefully.

"No... I promise... It was just... It was just really intense," you explained and leaned your head beside his. Taehyung's eyes dropped to your lips then rose back to your eyes. He did not kiss you though.

With a caress of his cheek, you pulled him closer and pressed a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. Taehyung responded but his touch was as delicate as it could ever be.

Jungkook

When you uttered your safe word, Jungkook stopped immediately and backed away. He was breathing heavily as were you but he was grounded at once when the sound of your safe word echoed through his ears. His heart stopped and his lips parted.

"Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, kitten," spoke Jungkook gently as he rushed to you. His arms engulfed you and held you together as to not fall apart. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry, kitten..." he repeated over and over again and ran his fingers through your hair.

You nodded weakly against his warm chest, snuggling even closer. "Please... Just hold me..." you whispered and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Jungkook pulled you even closer if that was even possible and held you without a word until you'd say otherwise.

When you came to your senses again and calmed from all the tension, your fingers instinctively traced shapes into Jungkook's arm. The tips of your nails lined his tattoos before you leaned over and kissed his shoulder.

"Thank you," you whispered and leaned your head in the nook of his neck.

"What for?" asked Jungkook quietly yet he was shocked.

"I don't know..."

You and Jungkook took a long shower together, Jungkook treating you more gently than ever. His fingers barely dared trace your body before he wrapped you into a soft warm towel. He even blow-dried your hair and caressed lotion into your hands as you sat on the edge of the bath.

"I'm okay," you spoke gently after Jungkook did not say anything since before you took a shower. The truth was, he was feeling guilty and ashamed of having drawn you so far that you needed to use your safe word.

Jungkook froze as you said those words, his hands holding your forearms whilst he was kneeling in front of you.

"I promise, Kookie," you whispered and leaned down to kiss him but Jungkook moved his head away slightly. It was your turn to stay still for a moment, taken back by his gesture.

"You don't want to kiss me?" you asked barely above a whisper. Jungkook's eyes snapped up to yours, a storm of emotion raging behind his brown irises.

"Of course I do... I just... I just don't want to hurt you again..." he spoke quietly and looked down at your hands. His thumbs drew circles into your skin, his heart breaking at the thought of hurting you.

"Jungkook... What are you talking about?" you frowned, "You didn't hurt me. I'm okay, I promise."

Jungkook looked up into your eyes once again, studying you whether you were being truthful with him or were simply saying that to reassure him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Jungkook. I love you," you breathed desperately. You leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes. And in that moment, Jungkook leaned in ever so slightly and his lips gently touched your own.

[highflyerwings]

I'm just going to come right out and say it.

I'm pro-Isaac/Yohan.

I'm pro-Yohan being attracted to Gaon because he looks like Isaac.

I'm pro-whatever spicy, fucked up version of that relationship there is. Because guess what. It's actually okay if you think that Yohan's attraction to Isaac played some part in his attraction to Gaon.

Like.

It's okay to think that.

You're not going to burn in hell.

You're not romanticizing anything.

You're not promoting any kind of problematic relationship dynamic.

You're, at most, analyzing a deeply complex relationship structure. Something that writers have been doing for ages. Some of it may be considered taboo by most of society, but that doesn't mean you need to demonize yourself or anyone else for appreciating it, let alone simply speaking directly about it.

And if you actually get off on it, then hey, that's cool too. You do you.

There's a weird tendency within the fandom to kind of skirt around the issue. To not address it directly. But to not address it directly is missing the point, I think.

We can say the Isaac lookalike thing was a smokescreen for the hets all we want. And that might be all it is. But to simply disregard it as a means to pass the censorship issue is a little naive at this point. The writer made it an issue for a reason. Take away the lookalike thing, there's really nothing else about the story that would directly implicate it as an explicitly queer story. No more than it already is. Take away the lookalike thing, and not a whole lot else changes. That means the addition of the lookalike thing also does not make it less of a queer story.

So I can't keep believing the the writer used it as a way to throw off the censors or the general public.

I think the writer included it for a specific reason. And that specific reason doesn't detract anything from the queer relationship we all have been seeing.

With or without the Isaac lookalike plot, Yohan and Gaon's relationship remains essentially the same.

The lookalike thing was at the very most, an excuse to bring the two characters together. The lookalike thing was not meant to imply that Gaon was a stand-in for Isaac. It was not meant to imply Yohan only saw Gaon as a brother figure. It was literally, simply, an excuse for the two characters to meet and form a bond. And that bond was non-exclusive. That bond has no limitation. That bond transcended the familial, because Yohan himself had no sense of traditional family.

Someone recently made a point that Yohan grew up abandoned, grew up neglected, grew up abused, grew up without the same moral code that the majority of society grew up with that says "brother is not lover." This doesn't make Yohan bad. This doesn't make Yohan evil. This doesn't make Yohan anything other than a human who grew up in a completely different situation than the majority of society.

It's evident from the bond they form that Gaon was so much more to Yohan than a replacement for Isaac. To disagree with that is ignorant. If you disagree with that, there's a huge aspect of the story that's going directly over your head. I'm sorry. If you think Yohan is simply seeing Gaon as his dead brother then you're wildly missing the point.

I once brought up how strange it was for people to be so hung up on Gaon looking like Isaac, because in real life, that would never happen. Unless you're clinically delusional. Which Yohan never was assumed to be. He wasn't delusional enough to confuse Gaon with Isaac. Because no matter how much someone looks like someone you know at first, you immediately start identifying the differences. Sight, sound, smell, everything adds up and your brain simply cannot continue thinking one is the same as the other unless there are other issues going on.

And I'm still very much in support of that idea. But I am also in support of the flip side. Not that Yohan confuses Gaon as Isaac, but that Yohan had deeper feelings for Isaac than what was let on in the series.

Yohan is a deeply complex character, and the ways he maneuvered in society were so influenced by the environment in which he was raised. He was abused, and neglected, and only truly loved and paid attention to by one singular person in his entire life, and that was Isaac. And I'm sorry, but I cannot just disregard the depths of that relationship just so I can ignorantly ship Yohan with Gaon. All of them are connected and I think we need to actually start acknowledging that instead of putting blinders on out of fear of judgement.

[theggning]

So one interesting wrinkle in Rise from the Ashes that I never see discussed is the implication that Jake Marshall and Lana Skye were romantically involved.

Now, unlike another ill-fated AA pairing I’m a fan of, this is never really established as a romantic relationship. But there are a LOT of subtle implications that suggest Jake and Lana were more than coworkers at the time of SL-9.

(Deets + tragic theorizing below.)

- Because RftA was added onto the first game for the DS release (after the rest of the trilogy had already been finished for GBA,) the writers intentionally made parallels and references to the rest of the trilogy within it. Ema and Lana are clearly meant to be a twisted mirror of Maya and Mia. And per Janet Tsu (English localization director,) Jake Marshall serves the role of Godot in the Skye sisters/Fey sisters parallel. (In fact, the reason he is a cowboy was to differentiate his characterization from Godot’s.) This by default puts Jake in a position of being romantically close to Lana.

(I fuckin’ love Godot and I also fuckin’ love Jake, so this parallel makes a lot of sense to me...)

- Ema is familiar with Jake when meeting him for the first time. She calls him “Mr. Marshall” before he ever introduces himself to Phoenix, and Phoenix remarks that it seems like they know each other already. (By contrast, Ema doesn’t know who Angel is, nor Bruce Goodman, the other SL-9 investigators.)

- This line, early in the first conversation with Jake:

Marshall: I'm afraid your sister's fate is decided, bambina. Many condolences.

Ema: Officer Marshall!

Marshall: Yeah, bambina?

Ema: H-how can you say that! You and my sister, you were...

Phoenix: (Is there something between this cop and her sister that I don't know about?)

Marshall: ...! I apologize, bambina. Something must have gotten to me. Maybe it's that dry wind that's a-blowin' through the Prospector's Office.

(Love that Jake seems to have a soft spot for Ema, and relents when she calls him on his apparently callousness towards Lana’s situation.)

- This exchange with Angel, in which Ema is very concerned about what’s going on between Jake and Angel:

Ema: Um, Ms. Starr...? Officer Marshall... is he your... uh, are you his...? Are you g-g-g-going out!?

Angel: Why do you want to know?

Ema: I was just wondering what happened to him?  A long time ago, when he was helping my sister do cases, he was so nice. He got along so well with my sister, it made me jealous. And... he was nice to me too, back then.

Phoenix: (This would be when Officer Marshall was a detective.)

Ema: But now... now he's so cold!

Angel: ...Jake and I are merely cooperating on this investigation. We're putting the past to rest, as it were. Nothing more than that.

Ema: I... I see. Thank you.

- Angel also dishes a lot of spicy gossip about Jake and Lana in the aftermath of SL-9. Most of it revolves around how Jake, especially, really went through it and how his pain in particular seemed to drive Lana.

Angel: Poor old Jake Marshall, though, must have been going through hell.

Phoenix: You mean, because of his brother's death?

Angel: They were close, those two. After Neil died, something took over Jake. He became obsessed. Seeing Jake like that made her all the more desperate.

Phoenix: "Her"...?

Angel: Lana Skye.

And then there’s THIS particularly intriguing bit:

Angel: When Jake's brother was murdered, she felt as if she had lost her own brother. If it wasn't for her, I don't think Jake would ever have recovered from his shock.

Angel: That's what makes it all the more infuriating.

- This one is a reach, but Lana seems perturbed that Phoenix is bringing up Jake as a suspect on day two of the trial.

Ema: In order to defend my sister, you're going to accuse Mr. Marshall?

Phoenix: We have to play the cards we're dealt. Isn't that right, Ms. Skye?

Lana: ... Do what you have to do, Mr. Wright.

- After receiving her orders from Gant to move Goodman’s body, the first thing Lana did was call Jake.

Lana: The truth is, after I received those orders from Chief Gant, the first thing I did was make a phone call. A phone call to Patrolman Jake Marshall.

Phoenix: To Marshall? Why on earth would you call him?

Lana: The lead investigator for the SL-9 Incident had been murdered. I wanted that fact to be kept hidden, and I needed help. He was the only other person I could trust. Or at least, I thought I could trust him at the time.

Lana: However, it seems that after I spoke to him he went off on an escapade of his own...

Lana says she never expected Jake to do his renegade evidence room cosplay plan, but attributes it to how much he’s “changed” since SL-9 ended. But the fact remains, she called him in the first place because on some level, she trusted him to help her.

- Actually, both Jake and Lana talk about how the other one “changed” in the aftermath of the incident, in a way that feels particularly personal to me. (Angel also makes this observation about the both of them.)

So to me, it seems like there was a period of time after Neil Marshall’s death where Lana was trying desperately to support Jake (while simultaneously scrambling to end the case to cover up Ema’s involvement.) Things only really fell apart after Joe Darke’s conviction, the other investigators noticed how fishy the conviction ended up-- to Jake, that someone had tampered with his brother’s body and the circumstances of his death. Lana, of course, is falling under Gant’s manipulations, and can’t risk the truth coming out.

Now, regardless of their past status, any relationship of any sort Jake and Lana had is unquestionably, decisively over. Jake is clearly extremely bitter towards her, Gant, and the prosecutor’s office in general, and Lana’s newly cold personality is impenetrable to everyone, even her own sister. They refer to each other only by formal titles.  They only interact face to face once in the case: the moment at the end of the second trial where Jake demands Lana look him in the eye and tell him that SL-9 was concluded legitimately.

Even after the truth comes out, I don’t know if Jake and Lana’s relationship is reparable. I can’t even say I think they’d be any good for each other anymore (though tbh if somebody wrote a fic where they try to get closure or end up drawn back together by reflex... I’d read the hell out of it.) To me, the most fascinating potential of Jake/Lana is in their breakup, the severity of the tragedy that tore them apart. 

Like damn. Picture Lana, desperate to cover for her sister, getting further and further tangled in Gant’s puppet strings. She’s forced to cheat and lie about the death of a man she saw as “her own brother,” and to keep on lying no matter how much it hurts Jake. She’s forced to sacrifice her relationship with him for Ema and turns into this cold, outwardly heartless person-- and she can never risk telling either of them why.

Meanwhile Jake is heartsick and distraught over Neil’s murder. Then he watches the woman he loves pulling away from him, refusing to answer his questions, and seemingly coasting to success on the back of her shady behavior. He feels utterly betrayed, and getting demoted in the aftermath only adds insult to injury. With nothing left but seething rage, he lingers for two years, ever-determined to find the truth around his brother’s death.

It’s a fascinating conflict of two brothers and two sisters, and the lengths they’ll go to for one another-- and possibly, how a relationship between a man and a woman crumbles in the balance.

[spookydrreid]

Your Body

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: After a team member assumes y/n is pregnant, reader starts to have some doubts about herself.

Requested: Yes

Full request: Could I request a Spencer smut where the reader has body issues and she’s been upset with how she looks in all her clothes and Spencer spends a whole night just worshipping her body to make her feel even a little bit better - anon

&

"I was thinking maybe Spencer has a gf who’s usually unashamedly herself. Goofy, loves snacking etc. but he notices her acting differently, eating differently.. when he questions her he finds out someone thought she was pregnant. Body worship ensues, fluffy maybe even a little spicy 👉🏻👈🏻" - @spencers-dria

Content Warning: talks of pregnancy, accusal of pregnancy, self dislike, negative self talk, implications of smut (Let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2.4k

a/n: I cannot begin to thank you all for your patience and understanding lately. I was really stressed, and writing wasn't happening. BUT I AM BACK AND READY TO RUMBLE!!!!!! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I do. I love you all so fucking much! ❤️

------------

“Happy Monday, everyone!” You beamed as you practically skipped into the office. The smile plastered on your face was large and made your cheeks hurt just a little bit. But who could blame you? You’d spent the weekend tangled up in bed with your husband, Dr. Spencer Reid, for the first time in almost four months. And while you and Spencer had the exact same job, there just something about snuggling up to him in your own bed, without having to think about chasing a killer.

And, okay, maybe you’d gotten more than a few rounds of sex in. But really you just felt refreshed.

“Well, well. Did Mrs. Genius get a little lovin’ this weekend?” Morgan teased from his desk.

“That’s for me to know and for you to guess,” you giggled.

You heard the clanking of shoes and then the cheery voice of the one and only Miss. Penelope Garcia. Her bright outfit making you smile just a little bit harder as she hobbled her way over and perched herself on Dereks desk. She blew a piece of hair out of her face, “good morning my little loves! So nice to see everyone refreshed and …” she tailed off as her bright eyes landed on you. “And glowing! Mrs. Reid you look absolutely stunning today if I do say so myself. Speaking of Reid, where is he?”

You sipped your coffee, “he said he had a small meeting with Hotch and Strauss today. Probably to talk about that position he was offered at the University.”

You looked towards Hotchs office where Spencer was fiddling with his hands, a smile on all of their faces. He was excited about teaching, claiming he couldn’t wait to satiate the young minds. You decided to get started on the files you’d put off all weekend, wanting to smother Spencer in your love without thinking of work at all.

And you were so focused on your work that you missed the quiet chatter from Garcia and Morgan in the corner.

"You cannot work like this, babe,” Spencer cried as you grabbed another tissue, your nose red and raw from blowing it so much.

“It’s just a cold, Spence. I’m fine. Really.” But the truth was, you kind of weren’t. You’re head was screaming and your stomach was turning.

He made a face at you as you washed your hands.

“Fine. But the minute you feel worse, please tell me.” And so you assured your darling husband that you would let him know if you felt worse. You popped some Tylenol before following him out of the hotel room. And for the rest of the day you did your best to be your usual up beat and happy, pretending your insides weren’t twisting and that your head wasn’t screaming.

“Are you okay, y/n?” JJ asked.

You perked up, picking your head up from its place in your hand, “yeah! Just a headache.” You smiled at her. But she furrowed her brows, taking the seat next to you.

“Y/N… are you sure you’re okay? Is there something you want to tell me?”

You shot her a confused look, “no? I sincerely just have a headache. What are you insinuating?”

You watched as she scrambled to find her words, “I just- well, you’ve been wearing more lose fitting clothes. And you’ve been extra tired. I just thought maybe you were p-pregnant.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. But you swallowed them down because you didn’t want Spencer to see you crying, “I’m not fucking pregnant, JJ. I’m fucking sick which is why I’ve been more tired. But thanks for that.”

You pushed yourself out of your seat, stomping away from a sputtering JJ. You didn’t want to hear her apologies, you just wanted to solve this case. Actually, you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. You couldn’t believe that she thought you were pregnant. And if she thought that, the others thought that as well.

You pushed past your husband, keeping your head down and pushing past him to go get coffee. But he was quicker, grabbing your arm and pulling you into him, “hey! Slow down, pretty girl. What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, swallowing your emotions once more, “nothing. I’m just grabbing a coffee. I’m falling asleep over there.” You shot him your best smile, but it was clear he didn’t believe you.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” He said slowly, reading your micro expressions for any indication of what’s going on with you.

“Positive.” You stood on your tippy toes, kissing him softly on the cheek as to not get him sick, “now stop profiling your wife.” You patted his chest twice with your hand before sauntering off to grab your shitty coffee.

You leaned against the counter, sighing into your cup. It bothered you that anyone just assumed you were pregnant. Sure, it wasn’t a secret that you and Spencer had a healthy sex life, but for them to think you wouldn’t tell them immediately if you were? It hurt. And sure, the hurt was probably just heightened from the lack of decent sleep.

“Hey, there’s a break in the case,” Derek called as he rounded the corner. You threw your cup into the trash and followed him out.

….

You’d made the arrest not long after that. And by the time everything was sorted it was too late to fly home. Leaving one more night in a shitty hotel. But if you were being honest, you didn’t care. You sincerely just needed to wash off the day and go to bed.

“Y/N, wait,” JJ called as you wordlessly stepped out of the elevator, heading to your room.

You slowly turned on your heels, facing the blonde who made you feel like shit, “look, JJ, I really don’t want to hear it. I don’t. It’s been a shit day and I honestly just want to go to bed.” You didn’t give her any more time to explain herself before practically running to your room.

The second your back hit the door, you lost it. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your chest heaving as you struggled to breath. But what you didn’t know was Spencer was already in the room, having left slightly before you. You’d thought he went out with Derek, like he said.

“Woah, honey, what’s the matter,” his voice made you gasp, scrambling to wipe the tears from your face. You weren’t sure how you’d missed him, but it was too late.

“Nothing, Spence. I’m just exhausted and was looking forward to sleeping in our own bed,” you pushed past him, wrapping your arms around you as you moved to collect clothes for after your shower.

“This is more than just sadness because we couldn’t get home tonight. So, want to tell me what really happened? You’re entire mood after you talked with JJ.”

Of course, he saw you talking with JJ. He saw everything if it involved you. He always made sure to keep an eye on you. His need to protect you at all hours of the day causes him to notice every little thing.

“It’s nothing, Spencer. Drop it,” you snapped, collecting your sleep clothes and making your way to the bathroom. Shutting the door before he could ask any more questions.

You turned on the shower, putting it as hot as you knew you could stand it and started undressing. You looked at yourself in the large bathroom mirror, cringing at the person you saw staring back at you. Maybe they were right. You turned to the side, hands running over your naked frame. Fingers pinching anything that looked ‘soft’ to you. You rubbed over your belly, sucking in and pushing it out.

“God, y/n,” you said to your reflection, “I can see why they thought you were fucking pregnant. It’s not long before Spencer cant love you anymore.” You watched your reflection fog up, finally making you unable to be negative towards yourself. You stepped in the shower, tears still streaming down your face as you worked to scrub off the day.

But what you didn’t know, was that Spencer had been listening the entire time. His back against the door as he sat. You were never cold towards him, always talking with him about anything that was bothering you. He knew you had previous negative thoughts about your body, and he worked very hard to make sure you knew how beautiful he thought you were. Making sure you always felt loved and cared for. Of course, he knew there would be hard days. Days where your insecurities got the best of you. But he had always hoped that you would come to him on days like that. Let him know so you didn’t suffer alone.

It bothered him immensely that actual adults assumed you were pregnant. Never mind say something to you. Wasn’t there like a universal rule to never assume a woman was pregnant? And to have it come from their own team? He knew it had to hurt that much more. The shutting off of the shower and the muffled sounds of your sniffles made a plan form in his genius mind. He didn’t care what it took, he was going to spend the night showing you how much he loves all of you.

You opened the door, stopping short to see your husband sitting on the floor, smiling up at you and trying his best to keep his eyes on your face.

“What are you—” you started before his hands found your face and his lips found yours, effectively cutting you off.

“Shh,” he said as he pulled back, silencing the questions he knew was waiting for him, “get on the bed, sweet girl.”

So, you do. Climbing up the white hotel linen and settling back on the fluffy pillows neatly stacked. Spencer’s right behind you. He pushes your legs open with his large hands, wide enough to settle between them. One hand pulls your leg up to wrap around his waist while the other holds his weight as he looks down at you lovingly. You want to shrink under his gaze, but you know that would just make you look suspicious.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he purrs as his eyes rake over your face.

You feel your face grow warm as you whisper, “stop it.”

He kisses you softly on your lips, a smirk on his lips as he pulls back. “Never, pretty girl. You deserve to feel loved…” he kisses you again. “…cared for…” another kiss. “…appreciated…” His lips moved from your mouth to your neck. His teeth biting a mark into your pulse point, making you cry out.

“Spence…” you whine. His hands moving to push up your shirt.

“You, my love, are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to love,” his lips moving down your neck. But as he worked to pull your shirt over your head, you stopped him. It was an accident, really. Your hand gripping his wrist in a way you’ve never before. He sat back, worry flooding his eyes as he asked, “what’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

Your heart squeezed at the way he was looking at you. He’s never looked at you like he is now. Like he did something wrong. Like he hurt you. But he hadn’t. In fact, you’d been hurting yourself with your words. And all he’s ever done was love you. Unconditionally and without reservations. And here you are, belittling yourself because someone made a mistake.

“No, Spence. You’re perfect. Perfect…” you whispered to yourself. “I-it’s me that’s…not.”

His large hands brushed the hair from your face, sadness filling the pools of honey that were his eyes. “Oh, my pretty baby. No.” He whispered as he watched your eyes stare at your hands. “You are…” he trailed off only for a moment, “everything.”

You weren’t sure why, but guilt flooded your body. If you were ‘everything’ then why did you feel like nothing?

“I’m not ‘everything’ Spencer.” You replied, still not looking at him.

Spencers hands found yours, gripping them tightly as he said “baby, look at me.” But you shook your head in refusal. You couldn’t bear to look at the hurt that you knew rested in his eyes. “Y/N. Look at me.” He was tern this time, something he wasn’t very often. So, you did. And you were met with the kind, soft eyes you married. The kind, soft eyes that love you unconditionally. The kind, soft eyes who could never love another the way they love you. The way he loved you.

He sighed, “I don’t know the entire story of what happened to make you feel this way, and you don’t have to tell me until you’re ready. All’s I heard was what you said from the other side of the bathroom door.” His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand, soothing you.

“I am furious adults had the nerve to assume anything about a body that is not theirs. And I’m furious that it put these thoughts into your head.” You felt the tears stinging your eyes as he continued. “But I promise you that I will love you until the world implodes. Big or small. Tall or short. For better or worse. I vowed to love every version of you and I fully intend to keep that promise. Do you hear me?”

His hands moved to grip your face, his fingers in your hair as he pulled you in for a crushing kiss. Harder than your first kiss and harder than when you both said ‘I do.’

“Because you are perfect,” he kissed your forehead. “In the morning when you first open your eyes? Perfect.” He kissed you nose. “When you sing loudly in the shower? Perfect.” He kissed your eyes. “When you yell at me for staying up to late? Perfect.” You giggled as he kissed your left cheek. “When I hold you before bed? Perfect.” He kissed your other cheek. “Right now? Absolutely fucking perfect.” He ended his speech with a few sweet kisses to your lips. His thumbs wiping the steady stream of tears.

“I love you, Spencer. So much.”

His eyes brightened up, “I love you too, Mrs. Reid. So much more.” He kissed you once more, “now, lay back and let me show you just how much I love you.”

Needless to say, you walked into the station later than usual the following morning.

---------

Tag list: @worryd0ll​​ ​@eideticsreid​​​ @muffin-cup​​​ @willowrose99​​​@mikewizkalifa​​ @dr-spencerr-reidd​ @reidsconverse​ @spenxerslut​@daisymaygubler​ @prentisspoppet​ @ssaalexisreid​ @thisiscalm-andits-doctor​ @princesssmooshie​ @spencersawkward​ @spencerreidat3am​ @xoxomgg​ @reiding-recs @aayaissaa @spencerreid9 @vantataem @shiivaley @lmfaosoph @freakyhood96

[add yourself to my tag list here]

[have a comment about this fic? tell me here!]

[stormblessed95]

Hiiiii! May I use your status of Jikook encyclopedia for this ask?😆

So I remember a footage and some photos showing Jimin and Kookie getting out of a car and both wiping their lips. Jimin was even hiding his lips while walking.

I can't find it anymore but I remember people joking saying it was sus! I would loooove to see it again, if ever you know about it?

Lmao I can link the video(s) for you, but I don't think yall will like my opinions over them too much 😅😂💜

So I THINK the video you are specifically talking about here is this one

There are others though too where the same implications are made. Jikook car sharing and exit the car messing with their lips in some way. Such as this one

And this one too

And for the sake of including all the moments people talk about implying they were up to something in the car before getting out, we have to also Include the moment they got out of the shared car with JKs buttons undone and then left the venue together too after the event. I'm sure you all can put together the implications being made with the undone buttons in the backseat of the car

My issue with ALL of these moments is that as sus as jikook are, like all the time, I really truly doubt they are going to be making out or fooling around in the car while on their way to travel and/or work. They do know how to control themselves. Lol not to mention that they are NEVER alone in those cars either. There is ALWAYS at minimum a driver in those cars, and possibly an extra bodyguard as well when they go to and from these places. Not to mention that in the 180903 one, Hobi was also literally in the car with them too. Lol they aren't that rude to their staff and members to be making out to the point it causes swollen lips in front of them either. 😅

Especially because again, as much as jikook are sus like always, all these moments could be explained away as simply, they drank something and were wiping their mouths off, that it's a small habit (we have seen them randomly press their lips together on other occasions), that they were putting on chapstick or wiping something else off, that Jimin wasn't covering his mouth, but sniffling from allergies or any other reason someone gets sniffly. That JK had swollen red lips that other time because he had super spicy Ramen for breakfast right before getting in the car. Lol OR that they were making out at home OR he was trying out some new products. JK might have his buttons undone because he was just in the car and is more comfy that way and didn't button it until he had to for the red carpet. Lol Wiping their mouths in similar ways after eating from both of them as an example

Legit any number of things. Some more reasonable than others, some we probably haven't thought of, but I'm going to stand by the opinion that they've never been heavily making out to the point of having to adjust themselves afterwards in any of those cars. 😂 But that's just me! Yall have the videos now, feel free to think what you want about it. 💜 I just don't think these specifically are moments other than highlighting once again how often Jikook choose to share a car whenever they can to and from all kinds of places. Lol 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Hope that helped a bit!! 💜💜💜