#You aren’t just born knowing how to explain things

[complexkinseynumber]

I need every technical person to understand, like down into your bones understand, one very important thing:

teaching something is *so much harder* than knowing the thing. Just because you understand hierarchical filesystems or git or grub or rust or whatever does not in any way mean your explanation of those things is worth anything.

I’m sorry to have to break this to you. It hurt me when I realized it, but knowing cool stuff is infinitely less valuable than being able to *communicate* cool shit, and that’s a skill many of us do not get any training (formal or otherwise) in!

today was the day we finalized the migration of essential software at work from some old and busted shit that was ready to die at any time, to the new cloud version of the same software that we are no longer responsible for maintaining. which is good because no one was actually maintaining ours. it's just been slowly crufting into unusability for a decade. so anyway they set aside an hour for a teams meeting where they'd walk us through the different interface and how to go through normal processes.

"it's not that big a change," they said. "it's all the same stuff, it just looks a little different," they said.

they did not account for the fact that the primary user of this software is someone who doesn't actually know how it works or what it's doing. they learned how to do their job entirely through rote memorization. they know which buttons they are supposed to press in which order, and that is the full extent of what they know. they also did not account for the fact that this person's processes were learned thirdhand from other people who were not using this software normally to begin with.

it's like. imagine if someone had only ever used tumblr in the app. and you try to get them to use it in a desktop browser, but they cannot figure out how to post. and you go through explaining where the button is and how to format text and add tags, even though you could have sworn it was all the same in the app. but then they're like, "okay, but what's the phone number" and you're like "what" and they're like "the phone number to call to make a post?" and it turns out somehow they still had the ability to post by calling a phone number, and every time they posted on the app they called the post in first and then edited the audio post to transcribe it into text before screenshotting the text for a photo post. and nothing you can say to them will make them understand that none of that is necessary or correct. they shouldn't have even been able to do some of that. they can just type into the post box now, like a civilized person. "okay," they say, "but what is the phone number, though? because when i made my account my friend gave me this checklist and the first thing on it is to call the number."

so anyway we were on that teams call for almost three hours and they still don't have a handle on the new software

[itsrlymine]

Stop Falling for “New Techniques” And Just Use Your Mind. It's Not Hard.

Stop listening to people who are coming up with new techniques for you to get into the state of having what you want every thirty fucking seconds and use your damn mind. No matter what new techniques start trending on TikTok or YouTube, you either have your desire now or you “don’t”. 

How many times are you gonna fall for the “oh try this out to help you get your desires” bs that people come up with every few seconds. Stop being a b*tch and just decide you have what you want now. Regardless of whatever technique you use, it doesn't matter because the technique isn’t what “works”, YOU ARE. Reality is a mirror. Do I need to explain how mirrors work? 

If you decide to sit there and have a conversation with the ai version of your sp or you want a search engine to make you feel better about whether or not you have something, those things won’t help you. No matter what anybody says. No matter what long ass post or 30 minute video someone on YouTube makes about how to use the next best technique to get what you want. They don’t have the power. You are the power. You are the damn search engine. 

You are born with your desires. You are born with everything you “need” to manifest so why aren’t you acting like it? Why do you still need the 3d to prove to yourself you can manifest something???

You don’t find funny that people will constantly tell you to go to the “next best thing” rather than to just go within yourself to get the answer you are looking for? Using outside sources for motivation rather than giving it to yourself…. You don’t feel the least bit pathetic? You don’t feel the least bit ashamed handing your power away to something that wouldn’t even exist without you being aware of it??

Stop creating excuses everyday for yourself as to “why” you don’t have what you want when you are the reason. You are the reason the sun shines in the morning yet you didn’t have to the 369 method or ask chatpgt if the sun will shine for you to know you’ll see it.

At the end of the day it’s just you and it’s only ever been you. Those things can work because you say they do but not because they have any inherent power. You are the power. You are the light. Fucking act like it. 

[0mg-bird]

Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.

Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.

Really, this wasn’t your thing.

The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.

The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.

Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.

You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.

Right?

Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.

You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.

Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.

An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.

Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Reid.”

“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.

He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.

“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.

Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.

“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.

“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.

“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.

With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.

He gains a defeated frown.

Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.

“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.

“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.

“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.

But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.

“What about her?” Morgan would point out.

To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.

After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.

And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.

Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.

Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”

“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”

You let out a very bored sigh.

Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”

Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”

Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.

“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.

When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.

“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.” Derek answers, laughing.

But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.

You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.

“Nice legs.”

Did he just say that?

You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.

“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.

He’s a rather handsome stranger.

“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”

Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.

While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.

“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.

He stops his rambling.

“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.

You can’t help but grin bashfully.

“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.

“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.

“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.

Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.

“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”

You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?

This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-

Oh. He’s coming back.

With two shirley temples.

He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.

“You mind if I sit?” He asks.

Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.

“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.

He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.

You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.

It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.

Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.

“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.

“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.

It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.

But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.

“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.

By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.

“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.

Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?

That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.

“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.

Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”

His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.

“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.

Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.

“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.

He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.

“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.

“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”

Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.

“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.

“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”

Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.

“What makes you so sure?” You question.

Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”

Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.

Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.

“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.

“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”

You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.

“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”

His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.

“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”

By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.

“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”

Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”

Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”

“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.

JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.

“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.

“To let him know we’re leaving?”

“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.

She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.

Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.

With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.

The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.

The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.

His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.

After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.

“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.

He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.

It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.

“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.

You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.

That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.

He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.

That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.

You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.

“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.

“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.

Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-

His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.

It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.

It just feels so…

So right.

With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.

His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.

You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.

He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.

When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.

It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.

And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.

“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.

A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.

He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.

It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.

You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.

“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.

“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.

You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”

He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”

“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”

“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”

With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”

Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.

Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.

“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.

“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.

“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”

Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.

Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.

You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.

You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.

“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.

He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.

“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”

He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”

You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”

God, he could marry you.

“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.

The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.

Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.

Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.

“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”

You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.

“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.

“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.

“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.

“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.

“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.

“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.

Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.

“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.

“I think we just fit perfectly.”

With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.

Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.

Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.

“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”

He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”

“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”

His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”

Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”

He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”

A sweet smile is returned to him.

At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.

Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.

His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.

Of course it’s Hotch.

Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.

“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”

He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.

“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”

He hates the frown you have.

“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.

He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.

“I should get going so I can go home and change.”

His warm hand presses to your cheek.

You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”

“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”

You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.

“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.

He kisses you anyway.

And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.

He takes his seat, all eyes on him.

“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.

“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.

“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.

“I’m great.” He smiles.

“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.

“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.

He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.

[marsian-tango]

yandere older cowboy x boss's daughter who is an innocent country girl and barely knows that the person she trusts most is the one she should fear most

Yandere Cowboy

Living in a bubble of sunshines and rainbows is the best! People make it sound as if living unaware of how the real world is was a bad thing, but it’s not.

Your life is perfect, it’s always been that way. You were born in a caring family, living amongst cute animals, being surrounded by the sweetest townsfolk.

In fact, you don’t even remember having a single bad day!

You love your life. You love helping around the farm. You love staying on the farm. Why would you ever want to leave? Your whole life is here!

And even if you had the strange desire to leave, you could never live with the guilt of being away from your family—their hearts ache with the mere thought of you leaving them!

Your saccharine smiles, your adorable personality, your incandescent kindness. They need to look out for you! You’re far too pure to be able to take care of yourself. The rotten people of this world are looking to sink their teeth on your untainted skin.

But don’t fret! As long as you stay on this farm and remain in your parents’ sight, everything will be as perfect as always.

But will these walls they’ve built be enough to keep you away from the monsters’ harm, when one of those monsters is within these very walls himself?

As delicate as a flower and as bubbly as hot apple cider.

That’s how you were often described.

You always do your chores without complaining, you respect your elders, you help whoever is in need, and you are kind to everybody—no matter what. That’s what you were taught, how you were raised.

You aren’t one to cause trouble, you rather avoid conflict at all cost—but it’s not like you ever had a chance to be rebellious either. You always stick to your parents, like when you visit the nearby town, or even when you try to sell some of your own harvest on your little stand at the agricultural fair. You were never allowed to get too close to people, it’s been that way ever since you were in elementary school—where you didn’t have friends like other kids did, you just had acquaintances.

And although you have the most fun when you spend time with your animal friends at your heavenly farm, you can’t help but want a little more.

“Y/N, get here, sweetie!”

You yelp at the thunderous voice of your mom resonating outside the house.

You take off your oven mittens and set them on the counter, heading to the door and stepping out. Your boots slide across the dirt with a bouncy pace, walking past your little garden—where you have the liberty to plant whatever you want, since you aren’t allowed to do it near the crops.

“What is it, momma?” You smile at her, waiting for her directions with your hands behind your back. You don’t really help around the farm unless your parents specifically tell you to. If they don’t give you the precise instructions of what to do, then you just…keep to yourself. You’ve lived on this farm your whole life, and you’re pretty grown now, but you still don’t trust yourself fully with these things.

“Your daddy’s fixin’ the tractor, the Fletchers took Luisa to the vet, and I need to change the water heater,” She explains quickly, carrying a rag in one hand and a tool box on the other. “So that only leaves you to feed the hungry beasts.”

“Alright, momma.” You nod briefly, as you both start to walk, heading to opposite directions. “Oh! I left a pie in the oven, could you take it out for me?”

“Sure, sweetie!” She shouts before entering the house.

You love spending time with the animals of the farm. They’re always there for you, the cows always let you hug them and nuzzle them—even if it gets kinda annoying after a while; the sheep cuddle with you on the barn on the afternoons when you got nothing else to do; and the chickens are like feathered puppies that you can pet whenever you want. They’re your truest friends!

People tend to think that living in a secluded farm is ‘lonely’ and ‘depressing’, but, boy, are they wrong! You don’t only got your cattle and herd to keep you company, the workers that come to help from time to time are quite friendly too.

And, sure. Your parents don’t exactly approve of you spending time with them, but how can you avoid them when they’re the ones who purposefully seek you out?

Like right now.

“Whatcha doin’, sugar?”

Your breath hitches in anticipation as you recognise the familiar presence, making you halt in your actions. Now—with the trough filled with food for the sheep—you set your bucket down and turn to greet the newfound company.

“Elliot!” You beam with joy, practically throwing yourself at him and wrapping your arms around his neck—standing on your tiptoes to get to his level.

Elliot. Your Elliot. Oh, how empty would your life be without him.

Elliot Halls. Your dear neighbor. The one man that your dad trusts the most. He’s your parents’ business partner, always helping around the farm, whether it's with the management stuff, or the manual one. 

You didn’t really interact with him much until up to two years ago. You were always so busy with school and house chores, and when you finished school, you finally had time to…socialize a bit.

And now you two are basically best friends! He’s the only person that your parents fully trust you around, and—although you love spending time with the animals—you think he might be your favorite person ever!

He’s just so fun, and sweet—and he doesn’t mind hearing you ramble about your interests, or the little things that you find charming, like sunsets or lilies; he lends you a hand when you work, no matter what it is, or if you can do it on your own; he gives you tips for your garden; he brings you stuff you like from when he stops by in town.

“Momma told me to feed the animals, the woolly cuties were the last ones on the list.” You untangle your arms from his neck and take a step back, but he keeps you close to him with a hand on your back. “You usually rest on Thursdays, why are you here?” You tilt your head in confusion.

Elliot grins softly, gently caressing your back over the fabric of your pink overalls. He relishes the sight of you. Your slightly disheveled hair, your favorite overalls—with different embroideries scattered all over it, your smile wrinkles, and that scent—the scent that haunts him in his dreams. The scent that he hopes to find wherever he goes. The scent that clings to your skin.

Cinnamon, carnations, and innocence.

“I heard the tractor needs some fixin’, thought I could stop by and lend a hand.” He explains calmly.

Yeah, cause he totally didn’t come to the farm just to see you, and he totally hasn't been following you around ever since you cooked that apple pie this morning. He would never do such a thing.

Did anybody tell him that the tractor broke down? No. Did he hear your mother mention it while he was watching you? Maybe.

“Oh, but daddy can handle it just fine! Wontcha stay with me instead?” You plead hopefully. “We can go to the lake, or take a stroll. Please!” You knew he had responsibilities. Being the most trusted helper of the farm meant that there were certain things that my parents only trusted him to do, but you just have so much fun when you’re with him!

He gives you a tense smile, trying not to frown in frustration at his own choice. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I should really help your daddy out,” He needed to keep the professional act a bit, stay in your parents’ good graces. If he doesn’t, your parents might not allow you to be around him as much as you do. “But we can do whatever you want after, you just have to be patient.”

You sigh, nodding your head in defeat. Elliot bites his lip, trying to control the cuteness aggression that he gets from looking at you. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you let him, resting your head against his broad chest. You’ve never said no to a warm cuddle from Elliot after all.

While you remain absentmindedly, Elliot feels like he’s about to snap.

You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?

He’s losing his mind, he doesn’t know if he can take much more of…this. He’s the only one that can have precious, little you trapped in his arms like this. So close he can smell your shampoo. So close he can feel your heartbeat. So close he could just…not let you go.

He needs you. He needs to have you. He needs to prevent anyone from getting to you first. He needs to protect your innocence…and keep it for himself.

But he has to be patient, to play his cards right.

And one day…he’ll get to you. Really get to you. Your parents won’t even get to notice before he snatches you from them. Because unlike the poor bastards that want to jump over the walls that your parents have built and get a piece of your delicate flesh, he doesn’t need to intrude.

He’s already inside.

“Try startin’ it now, boss!”

Your dad frowns, Elliot’s said that twice in the past hour. He doesn’t doubt Elliot’s capacities, but after so many failed tries, he’s starting to lose hope on the old tractor.

He shrugs his shoulders with resignation before starting the engine, expecting the same dead silence that he heard all the previous times.

To the men’s surprise, it lets out a whirring sound before finally starting, making both men cheer in pride.

“Bout’ damn time!” Elliot sighs in relief, cleaning his oily hands with a rag.

Your dad smiles softly, patting Elliot’s back as he passes by. He walks towards the tool scattered table, grabbing two beers from the red cooler, and sitting down on a square bale.

He tosses Elliot one of the cans. “You’re a good kid, Halls.” He opens the can and takes a swig. “There aren’t many boys like you nowadays. Boys who help, who respect, who don’t overstep…” He says solemnly with a blank stare, seemingly lost in thought.

Elliot stiffens, but plays it off by taking a cautious sip from the cold beer. He offers his boss a dismissive grin, feigning modesty. “Oh, please, sir. There are other boys who help ‘round the farm too, there's Davis; Thompson; those Fletcher boys—who are a bit troublesome, not gon’ lie, but—”

“You wanna know what they all got in common?” Elliot feels the air in the barn shift, it feels colder, heavy. Now he really gets what ‘walking on thin ice’ means. He bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly hyper aware of the trouble he could be in if he makes a wrong move.

He keeps his gaze steady on his boss and listens.

“They’re vultures.”

Elliot gulps.

“Everytime I turn ‘round they’re there, circling my daughter. Tryin’ to coax her, to lure her, to trick her—and it’s not her fault that she doesn’t notice. How could it be? She doesn’t know what those boys wanna take from her, what they would do to a girl like her...”

Elliot’s jaw clenches at the notion of some boy trying to get their hands on you, taking advantage of your kind heart, consuming you whole—instead of protecting you, taking you away from him. His grip on the can tightens as he takes a confident sip this time.

The older man takes another swig before speaking. “But…I trust you.”

Your dad looks at Elliot, his gaze unwavering, not a trace of doubt in his eyes. “So, while me and the Mrs aren’t ‘round, I want you to take care of my lil’ girl. I want you to keep those vultures in check. I want you to never let her outta your sight, ever.” 

Your dad and Elliot share many things in common, they’re both hardworking country men; they know how hard it is to maintain a farm; they don’t like relying on other people; and they cannot bear the thought of anything bad coming your way. Just the thought of someone hurting you makes them see red. They would do anything to keep you safe, because they know that this world is just too corrupt for your precious self to roam unprotected.

You’ve lived in a shielded bubble of love and untainted sweetness your whole life, and now there are dirty beasts ready to strike, looking to ravish your succulent purity until there’s nothing left.

They can’t allow that. They’ll fight tooth and nail against those parasites, leaving no trace of the dirty vermin, till your bubble gleams and glistens with only your innocent shine.

Elliot holds his gaze, just as intensely. “I understand, sir,” He says with determination. “I’ll never let anything happen to Y/N, I swear on my life.”

The man gives an approving nod, seemingly more at ease now, with a calmer demeanor. “I gotta say, your folks raised you well. Cause you’re no boy, Halls,” Elliot raises an eyebrow in curiosity, urging him to continue.

“You’re a man.”

You could never get tired of afternoons like this.

Walking alongside Elliot as the sun sets in the distance, letting the gentle breeze cool you both, watching the clouds drift away slowly in the sky, chatting about anything and everything. Truly enjoying each other’s presence.

To you, it’s the best way to finish yet another good day.

To Elliot, it’s just like all the other moments he spends with you. Heavenly.

“What?!” The shock that overtakes you almost makes you stop in your tracks. Your eyebrows raise in astonishment, your mouth is agape. You are the spitting image of the word ‘flabbergasted’.

“I’m just sayin’,” He shrugs. “Black licorice isn’t as bad as people say it is.” He repeats with an amused smile, taking in your surprised expression as he keeps walking.

“You have the taste of an old man!” You grimace in disgust, as if the taste itself had settled on your tongue from the mere mention of it.

Elliot laughs, ruffling your hair playfully, which only earns an annoyed grumble from you.

“And you got too much of a sweet tooth, sugar, but you don’t hear me complainin’.” He refutes.

His self control is wearing thin, but he needs to get a hold of himself. He can’t screw this up, he’s gotten so far already!

But you’re so cute. Ugh! Do you seriously don’t know what you’re doing to him?!

You two keep walking through the meadow without a care in the world. You enjoy walking around this part of the farm, it’s quieter, intimate. It’s just you and Elliot. No chores to do, no work to keep you busy, just…peace.

Ahead of you, you can see your house, it looks like a mere speck of color from where you’re standing, but it’s still recognizable. The last time you were in the house today was when you were making your pie, before your mom called you. You appreciate the present distance keeping you away from the residence, you’re not really eager to get back just yet, you want to spend some more time with Elliot.

If only you knew that he felt the same way, just a thousand times more.

“Say, sweetheart…” Elliot begins, breaking the comfortable silence that enveloped you both. “You trust me, right?” He makes sure to say it in a nonchalant manner, masking his real emotions the same way he always does when they get too intense.

You perk up at the unexpected inquiry, slowing your pace until you stop altogether, standing in front of him. You tilt your head at him incredulously.

“Of course I do, Elliot, you’re my best friend!” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. You look up at him with a soft gaze. “How could you even doubt that?” You’re confused. Where did this come from? Why would he ask such a question out of the blue? Does he really doubt how important this friendship is to you?

Elliot has to bite down his lower lip to prevent himself from smirking at your naive charm. He squeezes your hand back, drawing small circles with the pad of his thumb.

His eyes are locked on you, and he’s mesmerized.

The orange glow of the sunset reflects on your skin. Your eyes shine with tender care—care for him. The gentle hold of his hand on yours sends a shiver down his spine.

“Then…promise me,” His voice is sultry, vulnerable, almost begging. “Promise me that you’ll never leave me. No matter who comes into your life. Promise that you’ll stay with me no matter what.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. You just stare at each other, each of you saying a different thing through your eyes. Your gaze remains soft, while his turns dark.

This may seem like no big deal to you, but to Elliot…this is an oath.

He’s already made his own.

He will never let you go. He’ll make sure those boys never get to you. He’ll protect your bubble and never let anything ruin your perfect life. He’ll make you happy, even when he takes you away from your parents. He’ll stay by your side till your old and gray—scratch that. He’ll stay with you till you guys stop breathing, then he’ll chase you up to heaven, and then he’ll be with you for the rest of eternity.

This promise isn’t just words, it isn’t something that you can just break and then carry on with your life.

He can have you either way, he doesn’t need you to promise him this to snatch you away from your life and keep you with him forever.

But he wants you to love him, and to do that he needs you willingly bound to him.

You let the silence hang in the air before speaking, smiling warmly.

“I promise, Elliot.”

Hello, everybody!!! It took me a while, but at last it's here. It was kinda difficult to come up with something for this request, and it's not very long (I'm sorry about that), and it's also kinda cringe. Because, although I received some help with the whole cowboy stuff (thank you, @hysterucall and @0uch1e), it felt kinda wrong to write the dialogues without being a cowboy myself 😣. Either way, I hope that whoever requested this likes it. Let me know if you see any mistakes, and don't be afraid to make another request.

Kisses <3

[serpentandlily]

Arcane - Azriel x Reader

Azriel x DeathGod!Reader

Summary: Azriel never thought he’d find his mate, was convinced the Mother hadn’t even given him one because he was unworthy. That is, until he stumbles upon his mate while looking for the most unusual ally.

Based on this request.

Warnings: very brief illusion to past SA

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Rhys declared, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m afraid another war is on the horizon. Koschei cannot be dealt with alone.”

“I don’t understand. The weaver and the bone carver were able to be killed,” Cassian interjected. “Why is it impossible for us to find a way to kill Koschei?”

“It took the might of the cauldron to defeat them,” Rhys explained.

“Well, then let’s ask Miriam and Drakon if we can use the cauldron,” Cassian replied, giving the obvious answer.

“It would be no use,” Feyre sighed. “I destroyed the book. We’d have no idea how to cast the spell the King of Hybern used that day. And we risk Koschei, himself, getting his hands on the cauldron.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Mor chimed in. “Something, someone, that could be as powerful as the sorcerer himself. He wasn’t the only God that found their way to Prythian.”

“Most of them are locked up in the Prison,” Rhys said. “And the Prison would not allow us to free any of them even if we wanted to.”

“Az, how has your search for Bryaxis been going?” Feyre asked.

“Not good,” Azriel answered honestly. “It’s like that thing disappeared from Prythian entirely.”

The room was silent for a moment until Amren sat up straight. “Wait, there is someone we could go to for help. As a last resort.”

Rhys lifted his head, staring at her with a heavy resolve. “No, absolutely not. It is too dangerous.”

“You said it yourself, we’re out of options!”

“What are you two talking about?” Feyre asked, looking between them.

Rhys let out a long breath. “Bryaxis…had a sibling. If you could even call her that. Someone who also came from wherever he slipped through from.”

“And why haven’t you mentioned this before?” Mor asked with a glare, crossing her arms.

“Because,” Rhys started. “Like I said, it’s too dangerous to get into contact with her. She’s…well, to be honest, no one really knows much about her. She keeps herself in a dark cave somewhere in the middle. Likes the darkness as much as Bryaxis does.”

“If no one knows much about her, then how do you know she’s dangerous?” Feyre asked. “Everyone was scared of Bryaxis until I went down there and was helped by it.”

“I’ve been told stories of her from my father,” Rhys explained. “How in the past, long before any of us were born, she could cause the fall of entire armies. Could level any court into rubble and dust.”

“And if that’s true, then doesn’t it speak to her character that she hasn’t done any of that? Maybe she is good of heart,” Mor suggested.

“We’re out of options, Rhys,” Amren said. “She might be our last hope.”

“Fine,” Rhys sighed. “I guess we better get ready for a trip to the middle.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Alright, maybe this was a bad idea.”

Azriel glanced at Cassian to see him frowning as they stood in front of the dark cave. It was just him, Cass and Rhys who had come here to try and find this creature to ask for help. But it seemed Cassian was already losing his nerve.

“I tried to tell you,” Rhys muttered under his breath. “Azriel, can you scout ahead with your shadows?”

As soon as those words left Rhysand’s mouth, Azriel’s shadows darted ahead, trailing into the cave in a flurry. Azriel’s eyes widened as he was left standing completely bare, exposed. Not a single shadow had stayed with him, which was unusual. He tried to brush it off, tried to hide how uncomfortable he felt without them.

They waited expectantly but his shadows never returned. Azriel’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I can’t call them back,” he said to his two brothers watching him. “They aren’t listening to me.”

“That’s…unusual,” Rhysand said, stroking his jaw.

Nothing more was said as the darkness in the cave seemed to grow and grow, almost extending out towards them despite the sun overhead.

“Who are you?”

The feminine voice was sensual yet sweet, playful almost. Nothing like he had been expecting. It struck something inside of Azriel, making his chest ache. Rhysand stood up straight, switching from brother to the High Lord in a mere second.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” Rhys answered, plucking a piece of lint from his coat. “If my sources are right, I believe you are y/n, sister of Bryaxis.”

“That I am,” the voice answered. “Why are you here? No one ever dares come here.”

Those words might’ve seemed like a threat, but her tone was light, curious.

“We’ve come to beg a boon,” Rhysand answered honestly. “There is another Death God who threatens war. We have been unable to stop his efforts.”

“Nobody has ever asked for my help before,” the voice said back in that same curious tone. “And what of Bryaxis. Will they help as well?”

“Bryaxis…Bryaxis was freed by my High Lady. We have been unable to find them.”

A step in the darkness. Another. Light footsteps came closer and closer to the edge of the cave. Azriel’s heart rate picked up, his hand falling to truth-teller. Cassian’s face was white and he looked ready to flee.

“You are afraid.”

It was not a question. Just a statement. But Rhysand answered it like it was.

“Bryaxis is made of nightmares,” he explained. “Something so terrifying to us. Perhaps you do not see it the same way but I imagine you are much the same and that is why we are…nervous.”

A laugh. A light, lilting laugh. Something sparked in Azriel’s chest.

“Me and Bryaxis are not made of the same thing, but opposite. A balance for our world,” the voice said. “Bryaxis is made of nightmares but I am made of dreams.

“Then why do you hide in the shadows?” The question came out of Azriel’s mouth before he even realized he was speaking. He could see his own shadows now, twirling in the darkness as if they were home.

“When we were captured, Bryaxis caused them fear so they were locked below the earth.” Her voice was sadder now, more serious and Azriel found himself hating that. “But I-I caused them…something different than fear. So they kept me locked in their bed chambers for decades, centuries, until I was able to escape. But then I learned those that did not desire me, feared me instead for the same reason. I was either caged or hunted. That is why I hide here.”

A shiver ran down Azriel’s spine. His face hardened at what she was implying. The fae who had captured the two Gods had locked one beneath the library and had used the other for…He felt sick to his stomach.

“If you are to help us,” Rhysand spoke, “I can promise you that we have no intention of keeping you locked up at all.”

“I do not trust the fae. Bind your words to magic and perhaps I will help you in return.”

“What is it that you want from us?”

It was silent for a moment, as if she were pondering.

“A place to stay. A place to live. Somewhere safe from being hunted or kept as a prisoner. A chance to live in this world, outside of this cave. To get to experience all that you do. That is what I wish for.”

Azriel knew that wish. Knew it all too well. For it was one he had for years while being locked in his father’s dungeon. So maybe that is why he found himself stepping closer to the cave, found himself unafraid of the darkness that had captured his own shadows.

Maybe that was why those words slipped out of his mouth before he could think of the repercussions, before he could be held back by one of his brothers.

“I will promise you that, y/n. I will promise you the opportunity to experience life outside of this cage, outside of the darkness.”

He could feel the heavy stares from his brothers on his back but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look anywhere but that darkness, even though he felt so exposed without his shadows.

Another footstep.

And another.

Until a figure began to emerge from the darkness, finally stepping into the light.

Azriel’s breathed hitched, his eyes widening in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.

Because before him now stood the most beautiful female he had ever seen. The type of beauty only a Goddess could possess. The type of beauty that had his head spinning, had his heart palpitating in his chest.

She smiled and he felt the whole world pause in that moment. It was a sight that would bring any male to his knees. A sight that could start wars.

She held out a small, delicate hand.

“Then I will help you, shadowsinger,” she said.

He mindlessly took her hand in his, shaking it as the sting of magic burned on both of their skin forming a bargain tattoo on the inner wrist. He looked down at it to see what the magic had created out of their promise to each other.

Swirls of shadows with a small lunar moth emerging at the end. A creature that sought light, finally leaving the darkness.

When he met her eyes again, those beautiful expressive eyes, he stumbled back a step. Stumbled as a golden thread unwound itself in his chest and pierced straight through the universe to the female standing before him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The battle lasted thirty-seven days. Koschei was defeated, the females he had spelled were freed. Beron had been exposed for helping him and was killed by Eris finally, bringing a new leader to Autumn.

And things were finally at peace.

“What are these again?”

Your index finger poked at the spongy thing on your plate. It smelled sweet, good. And it was warm to the touch. You glanced up to see the shadowsinger watching you, amused.

“Those are pancakes,” Azriel answered with a chuckle.

“Pancakes,” you repeated, slowly, testing the word on your tongue. “I thought cakes were desserts. Not breakfast.”

“They are a bit different from cake. Made in a pan instead of baked in the oven, hence the name,” Azriel explained.

You hummed in response, taking a bite out of one of the pancakes. “Hm, just as sweet as cake.”

“I might’ve added a bit more sugar than normal to them,” Azriel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “To satisfy that raging sweet tooth of yours.”

Your cheeks heated, that ticklish feeling in your stomach came again. A feeling you had never felt before this month and still had yet to make sense of. It made something in your chest ache when you looked at Azriel.

“You made these?”

Azriel nodded. “Someone slept through breakfast with the others.”

Your cheeks turned even redder.

“You should’ve woken me up,” you muttered before stuffing more bits of pancake into your mouth.

“You deserve to rest, y/n.” Azriel was still watching you with that little glint in his eyes. “After everything, you deserve to rest.”

Since coming to Velaris to help with Koschei, Azriel had been the one to show you around, to help you learn the customs of the fae. He had so much patience for you and your endless amounts of questions.

The others had helped you as well, had welcomed you into their home with open arms, but there was just something special about Azriel. You felt some sort of pull towards him. As if the darkness inside of you called to his.

He was beautiful, more than any God or male you’d ever seen before. And beneath his icy exterior, he was sweet and kind. Thoughtful. Witty.

You enjoyed being with the others but you preferred times like this, when it was just the two of you. He was less shy, more at ease, when it was just you. And something about that made you happy.

Seeing him smile, even when it was just the faintest expression, brought you joy like you’ve never felt before.

And Gods, he brought out so many emotions you had not felt in a very long time, some you hadn’t even known you could feel. You had begun to crave his presence. Desire it. You wondered if he felt the same.

“Did you still want to come with me to the city today?”

Azriel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. That’s right, Azriel had cryptically told you he needed to pick something up from Velaris today. When you had asked him what he was getting, he had refused to answer.

“Yes, I would like to.”

“We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

An hour later, you found yourself in Azriel’s arms, flying down to the city. Your heart was pounding in your chest at how closely he held you, like he was afraid you’d suddenly fall from his arms. You kept your own arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

You still remembered the few hours after the last battle. The showdown with Koschei had left you depleted, covered in wounds, but otherwise okay. Still, Azriel had burst into your tent with panicked eyes and only seemed to be calmed when you had let him tend to you like a mother hen.

You didn’t know what to make of his behavior. But you did know that being in his arms made you feel safe.

“Can we get more of those honey mooncakes on the way back?” you asked, trying to distract yourself from the ticklish feeling in your stomach again.

Azriel laughed, his chest rumbling against your body as he tightened his grip on you. “That sweet tooth of yours really is insatiable.”

“I didn’t get to finish mine from last time,” you said in defense for yourself. “Cassian got to them before me!”

“Well, next time tell Cassian to go get his own,” Azriel said. His breath ghosted against the tip of your ear, causing a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “I buy them for you, not him.”

Once again, you found yourself with red cheeks and a swelling heart. Ever since he had discovered your sweet tooth, Azriel had a habit of leaving sweet treats out for you. At first, he found it hilarious that a Death Goddess craved pastries of all things. But now he found it just downright adorable.

When the two of you returned to the House of Wind, you found Feyre and Mor waiting for you. You barely got out a small goodbye to Azriel before they were pulling you away, telling you it was time to start getting ready for the night.

Tonight was Starfall. Something you hadn’t seen in centuries. The girls helped you get ready as day turned to dusk and finally night.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Mor giggled, leading all of you out of the room and up to the main balcony. You could already hear the crowd and the music.

You felt nervous as you reached the top, your eyes instantly darting around to find that one person you were always looking for these days.

Azriel stood with Rhysand and Cassian, dressed in all black, finely tailored pants and a matching coat. He looked handsome, yet still beautifully lethal. The darkness and light bounced off the elegant planes of his face, causing his hazel eyes to glow golden.

When he caught sight of you, those eyes widened and you felt them roam your entire body. You’d always hated being looked at in such a way, but not with Azriel. Never with him.

In fact, you found yourself getting heated under his stare.

Rhysand and Cassian moved to their respective mates, leaving you to greet Azriel alone. He took your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You are stunning,” he whispered. “Absolutely stunning. Happy Starfall.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

Azriel gave you a rare smile that had your heart pounding. You peered at the crowd, watching the faeries enjoying their evening. Azriel stood with you, his fingers brushing against yours in a comforting gesture. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, not when your presence was met with so many stares of both fear and desire.

“What are they doing?” You looked at the crowd of faeries that seemed to all be paired off, moving to the music from the band.

Azriel’s lips twitched, like they always did when you asked him a question like this. “They’re dancing.”

“Dancing,” you repeated. The word sounded familiar, like something you had known in a past life. You had spent so many years in that cave, you had turned into a mere shadow of who you used to be.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel had turned to look down at you, running a hand through his hair. His shadows curled around his wings.

“I don’t think I know how,” you whispered.

He held out his hand to you. “That’s alright. You can follow me lead.”

You bit your lip but decided to take his hand. He had promised you a chance of experiencing the world as it should be. He hadn’t led you astray yet.

He pulled you to the dance floor and you mimicked the other pairs, keeping one hand in his and placing the other on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist, yanking you closer to him.

The music started up again and Azriel began to lead you through the dance. It was easier than you thought it would be or perhaps he was just a good lead. Still, it wasn’t long before you were smiling and being twirled around in his arms.

You danced like that for a while, basking in the feeling. The soft music, the laughter, the gentle faelights above you. You had never felt so alive. And it was all thanks to the male who held you in his arms.

A slower song came on, some pairs leaving the dance floor. You looked around in question until you realized the pairs who had remained held a more intimate position. You copied them, placing your arms around Azriel’s neck.

Both of his arms wrapped around you now, resting on your lower back.

“Is this okay?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

You nodded, letting him drag you even closer until your bodies were pressed together. The dress you were wearing was thin and you could feel all of him through it. His hard chest, his sculpted muscles.

Azriel swallowed audibly, swaying you gently to the music. You laid your head on his chest, letting him rest his chin on top of your head. Every inch of you that touched him was on fire.

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel this, embrace it. You’d never felt like this before. So warm and light. It felt like it was just you and him that existed.

That is until you opened your eyes. You suddenly felt overwhelmed as you noticed lingering stares. A lot of them. You felt uncomfortable under the weight of them.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel had some sort of sixth sense when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you were feeling before you said anything.

“Everyone’s looking at me,” you muttered under your breath, staring up at him.

He raised his head, looking around with narrowed eyes. That caused most of them to look away, not wanting to risk the shadowsinger’s wrath.

“Come on,” Azriel whispered. “I know somewhere we can go that’s more private.”

He enveloped you in his shadows until you were stepping out of the darkness and into a rounded alcove somewhere else on the balcony. Vines dangled down from the roof, trailing down the pillars holding it up.

You stepped forward, placing your hands against the stone railing. You could see the crowd below, the one you had just been in. Still hear the music and still see the night sky. You turned to face Azriel.

“Thank you,” you said. “I-I just hate it when they stare. Like I’m some weird creature.”

Azriel stalked forward until he was right in front of you, so close you had to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.

“They don’t stare at you because they think you’re weird,” Azriel replied. “They stare at you because you are beautiful.”

His hand rose and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat. Your mouth parted to say something but a roar of cheers cut you off. You whirled around to see thousands and thousands of stars beginning to soar through the sky.

Your mouth dropped open. It was more beautiful than you remembered. The stars kept falling and falling, like cascading fireworks. So bright and breathtaking. You couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped your mouth, standing on your tippy toes to lean over the balcony as if you’d be able to reach the stars.

An arm circled your waist and Azriel’s front was pressed against your back as he held onto you.

“Careful,” he whispered in your ear, scared you were going to tip right over the edge and fall down the steep mountain.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, staring up at the stars. “Oh, it’s so much better than I remembered it from all those years ago.”

“It never stops amazing me,” Azriel said. “No matter how many times I watch it.”

You both watched in silence for a little longer, letting the music and laughter and cheers fill the space. Eventually, you turned in his arms, now pressed against the railing.

“Thank you,” you said again, “for bringing me here.”

“Anything for you,” Azriel whispered, raising a hand to rest on your cheek. His eyes were filled with a reverence that stole your breath away.

A brush of magic zipped by in the air and you gasped, raising up your wrist. The tattoo was gone. The bargain had been fulfilled. You had defeated Koschei and Azriel had given you the opportunity to live a life more than you had dreamed. That chance at life was in your hands now.

“The tattoo is gone,” you said, grasping his arm and pulling back his sleeve.

Your eyes widened to see his tattoo still there. The lunar moth emerging from the swirls of shadow.

“Wha—”

“I got it tattooed,” Azriel cut in. “Permanently.”

You glanced up at him in question. “Why?”

“Because I always want a reminder of what I promised you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “What I still promise you, y/n. A life worth living. I want to continue showing you the world, to be there when you experience new things.”

You were speechless. Completely, utterly speechless.

No one had ever shown such devotion to you, such care and love. Your heart swelled up, your chest ached.

“Azriel,” you stuttered out. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied. “I was trapped in the darkness once too. I know what that’s like and I never want you to fall back into it. I don’t need anything from you, just the chance to be there with you while you learn, while you feel.”

Something was building inside of you, building and building until it was ready to break out. You rubbed at your chest, at the unusual feeling.

“I feel this…I feel this thing inside,” You said, gesturing to your chest. “Do you know what this is? Do you know why I feel this way?”

Azriel grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, in the exact same spot yours ached.

“It is the mating bond,” Azriel answered, softly. “I feel it too. Right here. I have since the day I met you.”

His shadows swirled around like they had been waiting for this. You felt your own darkness rise in response until the two had joined together, watching together from the dark crevices.

“A mating bond,” you repeated.

Something snapped the moment you said it out loud. As if a question you had been asking your whole life had finally been answered. A gold thread was woven between the two of you, a beacon of light in the darkness. A place for that moth to call home.

You gasped looking back up at Azriel. Now that you recognized the bond, it grew more taut. You stumbled closer to him, fisting his coat in your hands.

“A mate,” you whispered. “You're my mate. I..I didn’t even know Gods could have mates.”

“Say it again.” Azriel’s voice was as dark as the shadows. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Huh?”

“Say it. Say that I’m your mate again.”

“You’re my mate,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. “My mate.”

A quiet whine came from the back of Azriel’s throat that sent heat between your legs. Your eyes widened. A muscle in his jaw clenched. The air around you was charged and you felt like you had been set on fire.

“And you are mine,” Azriel growled. “My mate.”

His possessive tone only made that heat grow. Your lips parted, a small breath leaving your lungs. His eyes glanced down to your lips, hungrily. You gave him the smallest dip of the head, the permission he was waiting for.

Azriel surged forward and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled, your backside hitting the stone railing behind you. You met his vigor with your own.

His lips were soft and warm. And his kiss felt like heaven and hell all mixed in one.

He groaned as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head back to give him more access. You yanked him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. You never craved someone as much as you craved him.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you opened for him, letting him claim your mouth. His scent was intoxicating, he tasted like pure sin. You could drown yourself in him.

Your hands trailed up from his chest to circle around his neck. His own hands were holding you by the waist, pulling your hips into his. They traveled down your thighs until he was lifting you up, seating you on the stone railing, never pulled away from your kiss.

You parted your legs, letting Azriel step even closer as he finally pulled away, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. You whimpered at the feeling of his canines grazing the sensitive skin.

His nose traced the column of your throat before he rested his forehead against yours. You were both panting, both completely lost within each other.

“Wait,” Azriel breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I got you something. I don’t want to forget to give it to you.”

Because he would. He would forget his own name as long as the sweet scent of your arousal filled the air. Would forget the whole world existed if you kept staring at him like you were.

He pulled a small black box from his pocket, handing it over to you.

You opened it, gasping at the beautiful ring displayed inside. It was made of gold with a mesmerizing amethyst gem in the shape of a teardrop, accentuated by crescent moons on both sides and tiny stars.

“Azriel,” you breathed out. “This is beautiful.”

A small smile ghosted his lips.

“May I?”

You held out your hand and he pulled the ring out of the box before sliding it onto your ring finger. It was the perfect fit. You admired it, twisting it under the faelights to see the gem glow.

“It’s perfect,” you sighed.

“I had it made just for you,” Azriel said. “It’s what I had to pick up in the city today.”

“I-I really don’t know what to say, Azriel.”

Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “Just say it again. Tell me you feel this too. I’ve been searching for you for over five hundred years now and I just need to hear you say it. Again and again. Until I can wrap my head around it. Until I realize I’m not dreaming.”

You smiled, lifting up to press a small kiss against his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, at the realization of why exactly the bargain had been fulfilled. You had asked for someplace to be safe, for a home, a chance to live. Azriel was giving you all of that and more.

“You are my mate. And I am yours,” you murmured against his lips. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was to find somewhere to call home. Being with you, being in your arms—that feels like home to me, Azriel. The one I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

Azriel’s eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to find the lie in your words. But there was none. Of course there was none. You were falling in love with him.

“Does this mean you want it?”

“It means I want you. I want all of you, everything.”

Azriel smiled and the sight nearly blew you away. You giggled as he held you close to him, buried his face in the crook of your neck. He kissed your throat once, twice.

“Then I think we’re due for a long vacation,” he murmured against your skin.

You knew what he was referring to. The frenzy that would come with this. Just that thought alone caused a tantalizing ache between your thighs.

“I think so too,” you whispered back as Azriel pressed kisses up your neck and jaw.

He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your skin as he stared into your eyes. His gaze was filled with so much promise, so much love. And then he kissed you again and everything felt right in the world. You were home.

[sapphicjackal]

Bingyuan Soulmate au 1

Bingyuan soulmates au

The modern world has soulmates, with the function that anything written on your skin appears on your soulmate. Only soulmates can see the writing of their soulmate, nobody else can see what is written on your skin. The words are visible to your soulmate as well. Language barriers don’t affect communication because it's the communication between souls through the medium of flesh, you will always see your soulmate's words in your own language.

PIDW is a work of fiction within the genre of “no soulmates/alternate soulmates”, it operates on the invisible red string of fate, and not everyone has someone attached to their string. Only certain people like Madam Meiyn can see the string, which means that soulmates are practically a myth within PIDW.

Shen Yuan has been studiously writing to his soulmate since the moment he was old enough to read, cheerfully hoping for his pretty soulmate to write back to him. He was disappointed when years went by without a response, but his parents told him that it happens when your soulmate is younger than you and either hasn't been born yet or can’t read yet.

It took until Shen Yuan was 15 years old to receive his first response from his soulmate. He was both overjoyed and mildly worried and disappointed. He can finally connect with his soulmate, but they're far younger than him. They probably aren’t romantic soulmates which is sad, but Shen Yuan will love them anyway!

Shen Yuan had taken to the habit of writing a short message to his soulmate every morning, even when he was in the hospital. He made sure that each message was unique, and that it told his soulmate that he cared about them. Sometimes he left little stories when interesting things happened and he wanted to share it with someone.

He was delighted when he felt tingling on his forearm, the strokes were far broader than the felt tipped markers that were commonly sold in stores to write to soulmates. It felt kind of like a brush, which Shen Yuan was familiar with writing from his classes on the 4 arts.

“I hope you have a wonderful day that brings you joy.” The words that Shen Yuan wrote this morning.

“Who are you?” 

Came the messy calligraphy painted onto his skin, alongside the words he could feel the phantom emotion in the lettering. It felt like curiosity and confusion, laced with wariness.

Shen Yuan sat up in his bed and grabbed the felt marker from his bedside table, “I’m your soulmate! It’s nice to meet you.” he responded swiftly, watching his arm in anticipation. 

Stroke by stroke came the reply from his soulmate, still with the same calligraphy brush as before. “Soulmate? This one has never heard of words on skin happening with soulmates." The feelings accompanying it were skeptical with an underlying stirring of hope.

“How old are you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard of soulmates, everyone has one. Only soulmates can see each other’s words, but everybody gets them. Unless their soulmate isn’t born or has died.” Shen Yuan explained to his young soulmate, curious as to why his soulmate hadn’t heard of it before. 

Soulmates were ingrained into culture to the point that ignorance of the mechanics was near incomprehensible to Shen Yuan. It was like someone not knowing that there were stars in the sky or that the sun rose in the morning. It was just something that everyone knew, and something that everyone was taught. 

“This one is 10.” came his soulmate's reply. 

Oh, they weren’t as young as Shen Yuan thought. Maybe they came from a more rural place with lower literacy, or lived somewhere less privileged with education. In that case, Shen Yuan should do his best to help educate his soulmate and help them in any way that he can. He cares for his soulmate and he won’t let whatever circumstances they have dictate the rest of their life.

“I’m 15, and I’ll help you with anything you need. Let me know anything you struggle with learning and I’ll try to help you.” Shen Yuan wrote before wiping away his earlier messages to make more room.

“Really?” wrote his soulmate, full of hope and wariness, something so earnest yet fragile that it broke his heart to feel. His soulmate must lack support for them to feel so tentative about genuine help.

“Yuan-ge will help you with anything. I promise.” he wrote, firm with his conviction and affection, hoping that it would transfer to the other.

“Yuan-ge?” asked his soulmate, full with giddy happiness and anticipation.

Shen Yuan smiled, happy that his soulmate was less scared and wary. He wanted his soulmate to be nothing but happy.

“My name is Shen Yuan,” he introduced.

He waited for a few minutes before he felt brush strokes again.

“This one is Luo Binghe.”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[sweetcherriexs]

die; b.e.

Ever feel like you’ve done absolutely nothing right in your life? Like anything you did, said or thought was wrong. You couldn't ever do anything right. Like you were never meant to feel okay. Like every single thing you’ve ever accomplished was… out of pure pity from God? 

It’s the worst fucking feeling.

You can’t be dead because that’s unfair to people who love you. You can’t be dead because you’d seem pathetic. You can’t be dead because you’re a fucking coward. 

But you can’t exactly be alive either because why the fuck did you exist? Like genuinely… why on earth were you born? If only to suffer and suffer until you finally break down and crumble.

You’re too selfless for your own good but you’re also the most selfish person on earth. You don’t deserve the love you receive. You don’t deserve anything good because the moment you have it, it’s right in your hands and then your drop it, scrambling to catch it but you’re too late and now it’s broken and you’ve lost it.

No one believes you when you tell them you’re a bad person. No… how could they? You’re so sweet, aren’t you? So loving and sweet and kind, huh?

But nobody sees or hears the thoughts in your head. God you’re a horrible person. You fuck up everything, every good thing coming your way because you too damn desperate to be loved. But you don’t get it, do you? Nobody will ever love you. You’ll always doubt every ‘I love you’ said to you. You’ll never feel the love that is given to you and it rips you apart from the inside out but there is nothing you can do.

You’ve given up. There is no escape. Only acceptance that you’re broken. And you can’t be fixed. But do you even want to be fixed? Do you want to be okay? Will anyone care when you’re finally okay? Will you be able to love as hard when you’re okay?

Will you want to live? Will you be able to confidently admit that you don’t want to take your last breath? You don’t know and it scared you.

Maybe you’re getting worse and worse on purpose. You’re doing this to yourself so you get attention from people that are just trying to survive. God, why can’t they just hate you? Hate you so you don’t have to explain the mess that is in your head. It’s such a dark place and most of the time you just wanna take a gun and pull the trigger. God, it would feel so good. To you…

But what about the people you’ve fooled? What about them? How will they know your true self? Who you really are and what’s really going through your mind every second of the day.

There were so many times you’ve thought you’re getting better, but, no, it was just another person your heart longed for that you've fooled because they cared…. They loved you and-

“Hey, babe” 

Your head shot up from staring at the ground, your fingers stopping their fidgeting on your lap as you’re met with your girlfriend’s eyes staring at you. 

“You okay?” 

You stayed silent for another second before breathing out. “Yeah uh… I’m fine” 

Billie swallowed harshly at your vague answer and pursed her lips. “Mrs. Harris called” She mumbled, sitting beside you on the sofa with a sigh. “Said you haven’t been going to your sessions” 

You took in a sharp breath then looked at her. “Yeah… I don’t need them” 

She looked at you with soft eyes and you wanted to puke. PLEASE PLEASE DONT FUCKING PITY ME. Your throat closed up and you looked away from her, squeezing your hands into fists. 

“Baby…” Billie starts but you cut her off.

“I can’t be fixed, Billie. I’m past fucking repair” You muttered harshly “honestly I don’t even know why you care!” 

Billie straightened up at your words with a frown on her face. “The fuck? I care because I love you!” You let out a loud scoff at her words and shook your head. “What? What now?” Billie grumbled.

“You don’t love me! You say you do because you want me to be okay but I’m never gonna be okay! I don’t want to be okay!”

Billie froze, staring at you with disbelief etched on her face.

“Just go! Leave me before I rope you into my endless hurt and suffering!”

“Baby, I’m not gonna-” 

“I said fucking go!” You shouted, bringing your knees up to your chest and curling into a ball and you screwed your eyes shut.

Billie pressed her lips together as she looked at you. She felt her chest tighten and her eyes watered. She moved closer to you. “Don’t do this…. You’re gonna be okay, okay? I’m here, my love” She placed a head on your back and your whole being broke at the soft touch, sobs rocking your body. “Sh sh sh” She shushes you gently, grabbing your shoulders and bringing you to face her.

“I know, baby, I know. It hurts I know, don’t listen to those thoughts, okay? Just feel my love for you” She murmured, bringing you to her chest as she stroked your back. You sobbed and gripped her shirt in your hands.

“I–.. d-don’t-.... deserve—..” 

Billie soothed you once more, pressing her lips to the crown of your head as her own tears fell on your hair. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that” She whispered, her voice breaking as she held your shaking body in her arms. “I love you, I love you so much” She lets out.

And though she said it… you couldn’t believe her. You wanted to. Oh if only anyone knew how bad you wanted to but you just couldn’t. It hurt your chest and you couldn't breathe.  

She doesn’t care

She doesn’t love you

She hates you

God she hates you so much

She wants you gone

You're a burden to her

A broken thing she has to take care of

You should just kill yourself

You shouldn’t be alive

You don’t deserve this beautiful life

You don’t deserve her care

You don’t deserve her love

Why can’t you just die?

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt 5

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst. Pregnancy.

See my Masterlist Here

Part 4

“Pregnant? How did this happen? I mean, I know how it happened but - Wow!” He runs over to you, placing one large had on your nonexistent bump. “I can’t believe we are pregnant. How far along are we?” Anger and disbelief surge through you.

“First of all, I am pregnant. Me, not you.” Spencer’s smile drops, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You sigh, this was a better reaction than you were expecting. You thought he would freak out. Although, you aren’t sure why. Spencer loves kids. He was never mean to you before. He wasn’t like the guys you normally dated.

“No, I’m sorry. These hormones are ridiculous. I know what you meant. And to answer your other question, the doctor said about six weeks. But, that was over a week ago. I’m probably almost eight weeks now. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the end of the week if you would like to come with me.” He looks hopeful, nodding his head as his smile widens. “Of course I would love to go. This is great. I gotta call my mom. I’ll clean out my spare bedroom so we can turn it into a nursery. I’ll need help moving some of my things into storage so we will have room for your stuff too. Maybe Morgan will help.”

“Wait, my stuff?” You ask, interrupting his rambling. “Yeah, you’ll be bringing your stuff too. You can put what we don’t have room for in storage with my things.” You cross your arms, preparing to argue. “Why would I bring my stuff to your place?” Spencer scrunches up his nose, “Because you’ll be living there?” He looks just as confused as you are.

“I’m not moving in with you, Spencer. Your spare bedroom is too small for me and the baby. There’s not enough room. Plus, you don’t need me there with our baby. That would be so hard to explain when you bring women home.” You mentioned other women because you were fairly certain his relationship with Ashley wouldn’t last. You place your hands on your hips, trying to understand his silly logic.

“I thought you could sleep with me, and the baby would have their own room. Why would I bring women home when I’m dating you?” Your eyes feel like they are going to pop out of your head. “Spencer, we aren’t dating.”

“But, I thought we would be a family now that you’re pregnant.” He explains. “We will be a family, but one that coparents. You’re going to be a great dad, Spence. I would never keep your baby from you. But, this doesn’t change anything between us. You didn’t want me before, and I don’t like that you only want me now because you got me pregnant.”

“But that’s not why I-“ “I don’t want to argue about this. We are really good friends and I would like it to stay that way for the baby.” “Okay.” He agrees, but you can tell you hurt his feelings, so you change the subject to what you will need for the baby.

You make a list, putting double the items down since Spencer will keep them at his apartment too. He’s going to ask for a leave for the first two months after the baby is born so he doesn’t miss anything. He will be staying at your apartment during those months. When he’s comfortable enough to have the baby alone, you will work out a new schedule.

Spencer orders some parenting books for the both of you online. He is so excited. You’re thankful that he’s the father, he’s a great guy. You just wish it could have worked between the two of you. “How are you going to tell Ashley? I don’t think it will go well.” You tell him, scrunching your face up. His face falls, “I forgot about Ashley.”

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelyygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop

[black-dhalias]

As I Am

Emmett Cullen X Rosalie Hale X Poly!Reader

Was definitely surprised to get two requests for this over the last few months, so I figured I should post them back to back.

There is no such thing as an easy life, but you always felt that you were under the spectrum of simple: not because you had money, but because your family had a position. People flocked to the family step, believing that if they curry favor then they suddenly hold the same position, but that is not how it works. It has never worked like that. You know who is there as a friend, and those who are phonies. No matter what, you will never accept strangers into your way of life-- they can bring as many gifts, propose in the most extravagant ways, but you will never see them as equals. No way to forget what you already know-- that they are just there to earn the right to be a part of your world.

“Y/N?” You glance upwards, placing your spoon onto the table as you smile up at your father.

“Yes?” There is a moment of hesitation, you watch his eyes flicker upwards and then back towards you-- the apple of his eye and only daughter. Yes, he has three sons who are all very successful in there fields, but it is you who brings him joy.

“Since you turned seventeen-” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you breathe in deeply, completely sure of one thing as your corset tightens as your lungs expand-- that he wants you to do the one thing you don’t want to do. “It is time for you to marry.” With that, you stand abruptly, dress moving and swishing with your movement as he places both hands on the table.

“You cannot expect-” He cuts you off, silencing you with his dark gaze-- disappointed, angry, emotions that you had never seen him express towards you. Then you are gone, unable to speak or force the words out of your throat. Unable to face him, so you disappear into the courtyard and into the night.

Bella stares at you with perplexion as you whisper out the words, it has been well over four hundred years—you were born in the early 16th century, in the center of Italian society. With time, you were able to move forward with your new immortal life, however, there will always be pain. You never got to apologize, or see your father again. You never saw your brothers. After that night, all you knew was the Volturi and their cruelty.

“Demetri was drawn to my gift.” You pause, trying to find the right words to explain what happened to you. How it changed you into the person you are today. “When I entered the courtyard, I thought about the possibility of marriage—I thought I wasn’t ready to give up my freedom, but I wanted to make my father proud. I was about to re-enter my house when I was grabbed, I couldn’t scream or breathe.” You purse your lips together tightly, trying to imagine a darker time in your existence than those first hundred years.

“Bella, I spent two decades trapped with the Volturi--just two… But I spent the next century rampaging through Europe and then the Americas. I wish I could say I didn’t remember, but I do--” You pause, your eyes flashing darkly as memories of your Ripper years invade your mind. “I was a Ripper. I didn’t kill to feed, I killed to kill. The hunt was fun, and the blood was just blood.” You shrug, even heavily pregnant—you can see Bella shifting as you speak hushly.

“I was worse than James.” You the knowing look in her eyes as she recalls one of the scariest moments, the fear. The way you knew how he thought, because it was you. It made sense.

“And we never thought twice.” Her sweet voice is soft, tender and loving—more kind than she’s with anyone else, but you aren’t just anyone.

“I’m not telling this to scare you, but you need to know what you’re getting yourself into. The risk that comes from being a vampire and the truth that you might not be epic like everyone else.” You pause, your gift is not unique but it does harness enough power. It’s a form of manipulation, you can say anything and it just sounds so true. So convincing, as long as you touch them. Your white gloved hands look so pristine against the dark blue of your pants. “You could be a Ripper. You could be anything, and I can’t let you believe that this is going to be easy.” Rosalie keeps you close, chin resting on your shoulder as your voice trails off and leaves Bella sullen, Edward will probably smack you upside the head later for scaring her, but it's the truth.

There’s comfort as you walk away from Bella, following the gentle tugs of Rosalie as she takes you towards the bedroom. She doesn’t say a word because that’s a part of the agreement, no one gets to say a word about the pain or the bad things you’ve done. You three decided that a long time ago, before Bella and before Forks.

Even as the door shuts, the click that eases your mind as she finally meets your eye. You imagine she had beautiful eyes as a human, violet as she called them, but you imagine them as gems. Too rare to be labeled with such an average color, because it's Rosalie. Your Rose. She smiles, you see the ghost of your past and the guilt rises until you are forced to look away.

Yet she does not keep your eyes linger on the floor for long as she lifts your chin so you look her in the eye, to her--you are beautiful. Her smile is not so sad, but it has warmed and that warmth attracts your hands to her waist. Beautiful. You trace her hips, fingers trailing as you imagine loving a more beautiful creature.

The innocence of touch.

You had thought it would be easy to forget the way her touch felt, to wallow in your self-pity a few minutes more, but she doesn’t let you. She never has. Her thumbs rest on the highest point of your cheeks and it silences the voices, and you cave. Your eyes shutting tightly as you learn into her touch, grabbing her tight and pulling her close. She sets you on fire, and you try to remember what it feels like to cry because that’s what you would be doing right now.

“I love you, Y/N.” She makes all the voices go quiet, “Us finding you was never a mistake.”

Your chest heaves, but it is. You are tainted, burned and scarred, skin raised from the abuse of your existence. Every fiber of your essence is stained red, it bleeds into your palms and now you’re this. The silent stoic. Rose is frigid. And Emmett, he’s just the purest form of all the good in the world. What a group you make… Such a broken mismatch trio, but it worked--they made you feel something.

Emmett’s arms sneak around the pair, his grasp is tight as he buries his face in your hair--pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then leaning over to press a kiss to Rose’s. “If I had known you both would be in your feels before I got back, I wouldn’t have left at all.” His voice is not judgemental or harsh, but it flows off his tongue and lulls your fear. It tucks it all away into a box and the lightness to his tone.

“Y/N told Bella.” He breathes out an ‘oh’: these are his girls, his beautiful and amazing wonders that sit before him every day. The ones that choose him everyday despite them being two gorgeous creatures that could run off together, but they don’t.

“I had to. She has to know.” Ripper’s aren’t rare at all, usually the Volturi takes care of them, but sometimes they don't. Sometimes they just let things fall as they do, and hope they don’t take it too far.

“Well we love you as you are.” Emmett doesn’t hesitate, and you smile reciting the mantra back.

“As I am.”

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal- Part 19

WC: 2134, Masterpost

Danny sit up straighter in his chair as he states his name, but Wally can see the wince that Danny tries to hide. Absently, Wally runs through Danny’s schedule of care and when the other will be able to have more pain medication.

“Were you born with powers?” Bruce continues.

“No.”

Wally wants to go to Danny. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Danny has powers. It doesn’t mater how he got them. It doesn’t matter that Wally didn’t know. None of it matters to Wally; he’s just glad that Danny is still here.

“Are you comfortable explaining how did you got your powers?”

Danny runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “Some of it. The broad strokes. It was a lab accident, because of course there was. My parents are ecto scientists, they study ghosts. They’re not… let’s just say don’t read their research into ghostly behavior. They are brilliant engineers though. They managed to build a portal to the Infinite Realms—”

“Minging knobheads,” John curses quietly.

“—and I was sorta in the portal when it turned on. Which, um, killed me and revived me at the same time. I was electrocuted while my system was flooded with ectoplasm.”

Killed.

Danny had— Danny had died. Again, before, Danny had died. Wally closed his eyes and swallowed around the catch in his throat. He almost never got the chance to know Danny. A hand fit into his and Wally knows instantly that it’s Dick’s. He grips it back tightly. At least he isn’t listening to this alone.

“It’s not so much that I got powers, as that because I’m half dead, I’m half ghost and I can do the things that ghosts can do. Invisibility, intangibility, flight… things like that. Long story short, someone had to stop the ghosts that the portal let through—”

John is up and pacing now. Zatanna doesn’t even try to stop him.

“—so I sort of became the town hero. I went by Phantom. It was… well, you’ve all been there.”

God, Wally wishes Danny didn’t know how that was.

“Kid… did you even have anyone to help you?” Barry asks.

Danny shrugs. “Two friends and eventually Ja… my older sister.. There are a few ghosts that were sometimes allies but ghosts…”

“Ghosts aren’t good or evil, they’ve got obsessions,” John explains into the silence. “Sometimes those obsessions motivate the ghosts in a way that seems one way or another. It only works out for you as long as your needs aligns with their obsession.”

Wally’s mind spins.

“Danny,” Bruce asks with very careful words, “do you have an obsession?”

He searches back through his memories of Danny.

“Yes.”

It couldn’t be anything anyone would see as bad or dangerous.

“Protection. My obsession is protection. It’s not as compelling to me as it is for a full ghost. For me it’s more like a hunger craving or itch, but it is there. It’s a good part of why I became a paramedic.”

Oh. That made so much sense.

“That’s our Danny,” Danna says, softly, from in their group.

“Why did you not simply join us as a hero?” Diana asks.

“Before, well, things were… complicated? There’s this government agency that considers ghosts non-sentient and—”

Danny jerks back in his chair at all the exclamations that rang out in the room at that. It isn’t just a reaction to the sudden noise, Wally realizes, Danny looks startled at being defended.

It breaks Wally’s heart.

“It’s okay!” Danny says over the din. “They were always pretty incompetent, really, even when working with my parents. I never even ended up vivisected or anything!”

Gar clamps a hand over his mouth and mutters. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Danny,” Dianna says his name gently, “have your parents ever attacked you?”

“They don’t know I’m a halfa. They don’t know I’m Phantom,” Danny says. There’s a pleading note to his voice that makes Wally agree with Gar; he’s going to be sick.

“But they’ve attacked Phantom,” Dianna says. It’s not a question, but Danny nods anyways. “Danny, do we need to set up protection for you from your parents?”

“They don’t know—”

“Kid,” Barry interrupts, “what you did was on the news. Like, every news station across the world. I think they know now.”

Danny sits back in his chair. He picks at the already frayed edge of the hoodie. Suddenly he looks small in a way that Wally’s only seen when Danny’s been in the middle of a panic attack. Any strength Danny’s gathered the last few days seems to leave him as his shoulders slump. “Maybe. I guess… I don’t know how they’ll take the news. It’s… maybe. We’ll, um, more than that someone needs to make sure the portal stays closed down. If the ghosts start coming through again…”

The hand Danny presses against his chest shakes. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know if my powers will come back still or if this… is what I am now, but my core is weaker than it used to be. If this the way I’ll be now, I won’t be able to fight them off.”

“Are they dangerous?” Bruce asks. “Beyond the morality of their obsession, are they actively dangerous to you?”

“That’s not an easy question. Mostly the ghosts used Amity Park as a new way to fulfill their obsessions. Lunch Lady wants to feed people, which is good, but if you don’t want to eat things can get nasty. Obsessions are like that, they can twist quickly. The ghosts also just like to brawl, a lot of them at least. Some of them would understand if I can’t and back off, but there are others… take Skulker,” Danny says with a wave of his hand, “his obsession is hunting rare game and, well, I’m rare game. He wants to mount my pelt to his wall.”

With an unpleasant noise, Gar dashes from the room. It makes Danny wince and mumble an apology.

Wally is already mentally calling favors to call in to safeguard their apartment, not that he thinks anyone will say no to protecting Danny.

“We’ll make checking on the portal a priority as soon as this meeting is done,” Bruce assures Danny.

“Thank you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt if it gets turned back on.”

“Why has it been off? If it’s off, why would they turn it back on now?” John asks, still pacing.

Danny looks away from the table again. “Because they remember now.”

“The curse?” John asks at the same time Bary asks, “What do you mean remember?”

“I mean they forgot, because, yeah, the curse,” Danny says. He’s back to picking at his sleeve. Everyone gives him time to try and find his words, which he does with a wet laugh. “I was stupid. I mean, I was young, but I still should have known better. I was just… I was having a hard time. My parents were working on a new GIW contract and my friends… team were going off to college… I was going to be alone to deal with the ghosts. I still should have known better. I just wished I could be normal.”

“That’s not wrong, Danny,” Barry says. “We’ve all felt that sometime…”

Danny’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t wish in Amity Park.”

“Because of this Desiree?” Zatanna asks.

“Because of Desiree,” Danny confirms. “Some ghosts have very specific powers and those are usually strong powers. For Desiree, it’s… it was reality altering based on wishes. I forgot to never say ‘I wish’.”

After a moment of comprehending silence, Diana asks, “She had the power to make you fully human?”

“No, even borrowing power like I think she did, Desiree couldn’t do that. But that’s not what she needed to do. Normal isn’t a real thing, it’s just societal, you know? She just had to make sure no one remembered I was half dead and, tada, I had a normal life.”

John finally stops pacing and leans against the back of his chair. His cigarette is a mangled mess dangling from his lips. “What was the catch?”

“I wanted to be normal, so I had to stay normal. I couldn’t be noticed using any of my powers or being too ghostly or tell anyone I had died or what things used to be like. If I did— well you all saw what happened,” Danny looks up, finally, right at Wally. “It’s why I couldn’t tell any of you, even if I wanted too. It’s why I couldn’t use my powers to help. As soon as I did, I was good as dead.”

More than ever Wally wants to rush over to Danny’s side. He wants to let Danny know it’s alright that he kept this secret. It doesn’t matter. He settles for what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“I still don’t know how I survived. As soon as Desiree appeared and took my powers, that should have been it for me. My ghost half can’t survive without them and my human half isn’t alive enough to last by itself. It would be like cutting off a normal person’s oxygen. I should have been ended.”

“We overloaded her,” Zatanna explains.

“Forced all your power— which there was a fucking lot of it— into her at once,” John finished. “She popped like a balloon with too much air.”

“Did you have to describe it that way?” Hal grumbles.

“Oh.” Danny blinks a few times as he took that in. “I guess, okay. I mean, yeah, I was more powerful than a lot of ghosts; something about being a halfa and my state being mutable still. I didn’t think though… right, okay. But how am I still here?”

“When she popped,” John says with a smirk towards Hal, “the air was full of ambient ectoplasm. Flash zapped you, re-started your heart, and the cloud went up like a match in a fart.”

Danny’s face wrinkled up at that. “Ew. But, alright. I mean it was my power first. I guess that…” Danny’s hand comes up to press over his sternum. “I guess that means this is my power level now.”

“And the rest of the curse?” Zatanna asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“Gone. People remember now.”

Wally thought to all the phone messages Danny had been getting in a new light.

“That’s why we need to make sure the portal is closed.”

“As well as that the GIW are shut down and that your parents do not try to harm you,” Diana says with that firm certainty of hers.

“Right,” Danny says after a beat. It’s hard to see how clearly Danny doesn’t consider himself a priority. “And… for the rest of it all?”

Diana tilts her head in question. “The rest of it?”

“I didn’t tell anyone my status. I lied to some of you. Is that…”

“You did what you needed to stay alive and hurt no one.” She holds up a hand to stop any protests from Danny. “While I have no doubt with your heart as it is you do not wish you could have done more, it would have never been asked of you at the cost of your life. You are a hero, Danny, and have been since you joined the Response Team in Central City. You have only continued to prove it by your willingness to act and the honor with which you did so. The Justice League is proud to still have you as your post, as soon as you are recovered.”

Finally the last of the tension drains Danny’s shoulders. “I’ll be happy to get back to it.”

Wally tunes Diana out as she wraps up the meeting.

“I’m going to ask him,” Wally says to Dick, who still has his hand.

“What? Now?” Dick hisses.

Wally watches as Danny shakes Clark’s hand. “Why not? Everyone’s here, like you said had to be.”

“Because it’s a debrief! That’s not exactly the most romantic moment.”

The other Titans are standing around them, waiting for their chance to see Danny. Even Gar is back.

“I almost missed my chance, N. I almost never got to ask,” Wally pleads. “I don’t want to miss it again.”

Dick just sighs and pulls a small case out of his belt. He presses it into their clasped hands before releasing his grip

Wally can feel the smile stretching across his face. “You know me so well.”

Dick just shoves Wally off his chair. “Go get your man. Ghost? Man ghost.”

Laughing, Wally fumbles to his feet and towards Danny.

“Danny!”

Danny who’s still here and alive.

Who smiles like the sun as he turns towards Wally.

“Yes?”

---

AN: I don't know, is it too cruel to end right there? 😇 Don't worry, we'll get an epilogue to hopefully tie the loose ends up in a bow! But this is the last half of the last full chapter! They know! And they still respect and love Danny. He can stop worrying~

You can subscribe to the masterpost here.

[bradleybeachbabe]

The Chair

pairing: Cowboy!Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie meets you for the first time while he’s out at a bar

warnings: mention of bar, mention of drinking, mention of alcohol, flirting, eddie calling the reader ‘baby,’ fast burn, catching feelings, cute first meet, kissing, eddie and the reader acting like a couple even though they aren’t together

word count: 1.6k+

a/n: just for clarification, the title is a country song, but in the fic, eddie and the reader are dancing to a whole different song. i totally recommend listening to the song, so then you can get the whole idea of what i mean by that! also i did add my own little details/plot in the fic, but overall, the fic is still pretty much following the whole story in the song! and if you know me well enough, you know how much i love country music!

Eddie was glad that it was the end of the week. That means he can just relax for the next few days, and not worry about work until the new week arrives. Since it was finally the weekend, he decided to head into town and hang out at the local bar.

When Eddie entered the bar, it was already packed, even though it was only a little past seven. He made his way to the bar and ordered himself a beer. When he got his beer, he walked away. He told the bartender to keep his tab open.

Eddie was heading over to the usual place where he sits every time he comes to the bar, but when he came into view of the seat. He noticed that it was taken. It was taken by someone who he had never seen before. Eddie was stunned by this someone. Since Eddie was stunned by this someone, he decided to take the chance and just walk up, sit down, and start a conversation.

“Excuse me? Is this seat taken?” He asked when he walked up.

“Oh! Not at all,” you said. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Eddie took a seat in the empty chair next to you, “Could I buy you a drink? If you don’t mind," He asked.

“I don't mind at all. Also, I’m fine with anything, just in case you're wondering,” you informed Eddie.

“Perfect,” Eddie said as he got up from his seat. He walked over to the bar to order a drink. Once Eddie got your drink he walked back to where you were sitting.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” He said when he came back and handed you the same beer that he was drinking.

“Y/N,” You smiled.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Eddie smiled as he sat down back in his chair that was next to you.

“You too,” you smiled.

You were hoping that this conversation would go further with Eddie. Granted, you just met him, you thought he was pretty handsome.

“Are you meeting anyone here?” Eddie all of a sudden asked you. When Eddie asked you that question, it took you by surprise.

“No, I’m not,” you shook your head. “I decided to just come out here tonight all by myself.”

“Well, that makes two of us then,” Eddie told you.

You just smiled at Eddie.

“So? Are you from the area?” Eddie then asked you. Eddie thought it was cliché asking you that question, but there was something in him that wanted to know about you.

“I am,” you nodded. “Dallas, to be exact. What about you?” you asked.

“El Paso,” Eddie responded.

“Woah! That’s pretty far from here. What brings you out here?”

“Well, I don’t live too far from here. I moved out of El Paso not too long after I graduated from high school, which was roughly nineteen years ago. And so, when I did, I decided to take a different path at things, and get my hands on owning a ranch and raising farm animals,” Eddie explained to you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “So, how is that going for you then?”

“It’s going pretty well,” Eddie nodded his head. “I love it. I’m so glad that I went down that path nineteen years ago because I can’t imagine doing anything else,” Eddie said. “What about you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I was born and raised here in Dallas. I graduated from high school around seventeen years ago, and straight out of high school, I went to college,” you explained to Eddie.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you go to college for?” He asked you.

“For Sports Journalism,” you said.

Eddie was impressed by your answer.

“Oh wow, that’s pretty neat!” Eddie cheered.

“Yep,” you nodded your head. “I’m so happy that I went down that career path. I love doing what I do.”

———

You and Eddie have been talking for the past hour. In the past hour, you have learned so much about him. He learned so much about you too.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” Eddie randomly asked you after he was done talking about his son, Christopher to you. Dancing wasn’t really on your mind since you were so caught up in getting to know about Eddie, but you thought it wouldn’t hurt to dance with him.

“Of course!”

Eddie extended his hand to you to grab. You grabbed his hand, and you two made your way to the dance floor. The band was singing one of your favorite songs, which was the perfect song to dance to.

Eddie placed one of his hands on your waist and held the other. You two were just swaying around to the music. Once in a while, Eddie would spin you around in a circle.

“You have no idea how much I love this song,” you smiled.

The song that the band was singing was One Night At A Time by George Strait. And it was true, you do love the song. You even grew up listening to every song by George Strait, and it was because of your parents. Both of them enjoyed his music very much. So, that’s how you ended up loving his music too.

“Oh really?” Eddie smiled. “Because I love this song too. It reminds me of you and me, baby”

You felt butterflies in your stomach when Eddie said that to you. You have been called ‘baby’ before, but there was something about Eddie calling you that, that made you feel so happy inside.

“You’re such a flirt,” you teased.

“Oh, I know!” Eddie shrugged his shoulders playfully.

———

You and Eddie were still dancing with one another. The band was now playing more of a slow song, so you were just swaying back and forth with each other.

“Hey, I have a question?” Eddie asked out of nowhere.

“What’s your question?” you looked up at Eddie.

“Do you think there’s a chance that later on I could drive you home? If you don’t mind," he asked.

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

“Perfect.”

———

You and Eddie were the last ones out of the bar. You two got so caught up in getting to know each other and dancing together, that you two lost track of time and didn’t realize how late it was until the bartender yelled out the last call for drinks.

Eddie was driving you back home. Luckily, your house was in the same direction as his, so he didn’t have to drive in the opposite direction to drop you off.

“Thank you so much for everything. I had such a fun time with you tonight,” you smiled as Eddie pulled up in front of your house.

“I had a fun time with you too,” Eddie said. Eddie wanted to say more just than that. He wanted to say something along the lines that he hopes to see you again soon, or that you’re beautiful, or better yet, kiss you.

“Goodnight,” you said to Eddie as you got out of his truck. You closed the door behind you and walked up to the driveway of your house.

Eddie didn’t drive off yet. He was waiting for you to get into your house safely. While he was waiting for you to do, he just decided to park his truck and get out. He knew that if he didn’t say or do anything, he was going to regret it when he got back home.

“Y/N,” he spoke as he walked up your driveway to get your attention.

“Yeah?” you said when you turned around.

“There’s been something I have been wanting to do ever since I met you earlier tonight,” Eddie said when he approached you.

“What is it?”

“It’s this,” and that’s when Eddie put both hands on each cheek of yours and leaned into you and kissed you. You happily kissed him back.

You pulled apart from the kiss, “I’m so happy you did that because you have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you ever since we were back at the bar, but I was too scared to make the first move,” you smiled as you wrapped your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Well, luckily, your wish came true,” Eddie said.

“I’ll see you around, Eddie,” you said when you unwrapped your arms from his neck.

“How about the same place tomorrow?” Eddie asked you.

“Or maybe you could take me out on a date instead?” you suggested.

“I like the sound of that. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six then?” Eddie asked.

“Six is fine with me.”

“It’s a date then.”

go follow @bradleybeachbabe-library to be notified when i post any new fics!

[lalune9x]

S-Classes ‘Side Story’ chapter 124 spoilers under the cut…

god I love this novel so much, it’s so funny and ridiculously endearing lmaooo 😭 (sorry I’m on mobile and don’t know how to format indented text)

—-

“Normally, I shouldn’t interfere. But since my partner has requested it…”

With those words, Sung Hyunje appeared.

“I have no choice but to comply.”

He was tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, and had fairy wings. It was a form I had seen once before, but still…

“…Why are you in this state again?”

Aren’t you about to turn forty? Actually, at this point, aren’t you already in your mid-forties? A man nearing fifty was fluttering around with shiny wings, claiming ‘I’m the Sesung Guild Leader~��� If he were a complete stranger, I would’ve said that people in this world had all sorts of preferences and left it at that. But unfortunately, this person happened to be my partner.

Amidst everyone’s gaze, Sung Hyunje-ssi landed on my palm. For a moment, I had the urge to clench my fist and shake it. Would sparks fly if I grabbed him?

[…]

“So that’s why you came with wings,” I said.

“The wings are because I felt Han Yoojin-gun’s interest in me has been waning a bit. I just spruced myself up a little.”

… What nonsense. When people said they wanted to spruce up, they usually changed their hairstyle, put on nice clothes, or added accessories. Why on earth would you suddenly add wings?

“… Anyway, we can explain publicly that the Sesung Guildmaster shrank due to a curse. As long as we get cooperation from the current Sesung Guildmaster, Hunter Kang Soyoung, it shouldn’t be too hard to bring Sesung Guild in line with its current state.”

“Um, excuse me.”

At that moment, Soyoung-ssi raised one arm with a serious expression. She glanced between the tiny Sung Hyunje in my palm and me before speaking.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but… in the end, the person who was a mermaid, then a captain, and now a fairy—is my boss?”

“Uh… yes? I suppose so.”

“And that thing… I mean, this person, needs to become the Sesung Guildmaster? No, wait, the original Guildmaster was… Why did I even join Sesung Guild under this person in the first place? Director Han Yoojin raised my dragon, didn’t he? And more importantly… Is that person really the Sesung Guildmaster?”

Soyoung-ssi clutched her head, looking confused. It seemed like her gradually returning memories were clashing with her current reality. Or maybe she just couldn’t accept that Sung Hyunje was her boss.

“Kang Soyoung-gun,” Sung Hyunje spoke softly to the bewildered Soyoung.

Since he was the guildmaster, maybe he would give some comforting advice to his young guild member…

“I’m a fairy dragon,” he said.

But no—he lied without even batting an eye. Had he lost his mind?

Kang Soyoung’s eyes widened as she stared at him. “You’re a dragon? For real?”

“Yes. Gyeol was born due to my influence as a fairy dragon. Don’t we even look alike?”

The self-proclaimed fairy dragon spun slowly once in my palm to display himself. Appearance-wise… he clearly did look like Gyeol. I felt sorry for Gyeol, but what Sung Hyunje-ssi said wasn’t entirely wrong. And now that he had fairy wings, his nonsense actually sounded somewhat plausible.

“So that’s…!”

Kang Soyoung cried out in awe and astonishment. Her expression went through a number of complex changes for a moment, but then she quickly calmed down and nodded firmly.

“I understand everything now.”

…Really? That was all it took?

“It all makes sense. It’s perfect. Yes! I love Sesung Guild and our Guildmaster!” Soyoung-ssi shouted with eyes full of guild pride…

Was this really okay? Sung Hyunje-ssi, didn’t you feel guilty at all? We did need to finish this mission and get out quickly, but this seemed too shameless.

[simonsrosebud]

my aftg fox children headcannons (guys be nice to them okay)

Dan & Matt:

They have two boys, Jace and Abram Boyd, one year apart (Abram wasn’t planned hehe) by the time Dan is 32.

Dan/Matt aren’t religious, but they still assign godparents to their kids. Jace’s godparents are Wymack and Abby, Abram’s are Neil and Renee.

At first Neil said no. He didn’t think that responsibility was something he could handle until he eventually got a call from Renee. “I know why you’re calling me” “I figured you would. I warned Matt and Dan that you may not respond in the way they wish, they don’t take it personally,” she’d said. Neil knew it wasn’t personal, but he admitted he also didn’t see the point and couldn’t be cut out for that. “I think you may misunderstand their intentions, may I try to clear it up?” Renee explained that, really, it was only a title, a glorified uncle of sorts, since the boys weren’t getting baptized and they weren’t putting their godparents in their will’s like old tradition did. “It’s a way to showcase the love and trust they have in others; you, me, Coach Wymack and Abby”. “It is an excuse to spoil them rotten,” Andrew had added when he talked to Neil. Renee told Matt to wait a bit, not to push, and a week later when Neil was randomly on the phone w Matt he said “I’ll do it, by the way. The kid thing- The godfather thing.”

Naming Abram was a struggle. They wanted something meaningful since Jace’s middle name was David. It wasn’t until Dan asked Matt what Neil’s middle name was that they got cookin. Neil was in the off season when he was born, so he drove out (accompanied by Andrew) to Atlanta from Columbia and they asked Neil when he got there.

Their backup name was Joshua (aka Josten) in case Neil wasn’t comfortable with Abram. Luckily it only took a few minutes of blue-screening for Neil to shake it off and allow it. Abram was Neil’s one real name, the one thing he’d kept all those years, the thing that made him feel grounded and safe. But Neil was 27. He hadn’t needed the name since he first moved away from PSU at 23 and was alone again. The kid deserved something safe.

ANYWAY. Jace is a certified hetero and goes to University of Miami for college. He grew up playing exy and baseball but once he was a sophomore in high school he quit exy and stuck to baseball all through high school. He’s 5’10.

Abram plays midfielder for soccer and used to play backliner for exy. Abram goes to PSU and rooms with Elliot (Andriel’s adopted kid, just wait it’ll make sense i promise), joins a campus soccer team, then makes the PSU team his sophomore year as a walk on.

Abram is 6’1. Has massive game but doesn’t use it bc he’s kinda oblivious. Very silly and energetic and comes off flirty sometimes when he’s just being nice and goofy. He later attributes it to the fact that he didn’t know he was bisexual until senior year of high school.

Abram fucking fawns over Elliot 3 months into living together bc he realizes he’s kinda in love with him. Never lets it show bc he won’t ruin their friendship and plus they share a room tg. Def foams at the mouth when Elliot comes back sweaty and shirtless from runs. Once Elliot is eating a banana and out of nowhere says “You ever eat a banana and wonder how the fuck girls suck dicks?” in the dining hall and Abram chokes on his drink so bad it comes out of his nose. Horrified.

Neil & Andrew (ik hold on):

Blake (f) and Elliot (m) Nelson.

Andriel had no intention of ever having kids bc no.

However, when Andrew and Neil are 42/43 and living in South Carolina again, Andrew notices that there are footprints in Neil’s garden. Then he sees it again and sees that the footprints continue towards the shed in the backyard. He checks their cameras to see that it’s a young girl coming and going with Neil’s electric bike a few nights a week from 12am-4am. The third time he waits inside the shed and promptly scares the living shit out of her.

QUICK VERSION: Andrew catches Blake sneaking into their backyard shed and borrowing Neil’s electric bike at night a few times a week, lets her use Neil’s old raggedy bike that hasn’t seen the light of day in years, turns a blind eye when she returns it run over, gives her bus money instead, goes back and forth with her for like 1.5 months, points out the bruise & bandages she shows up with one night while he’s sitting outside at 12am (insomnia), doesn’t see her for 2 months, shows up at the 24 hour CVS she works at 3-4 nights a week and sees the bruises on her hand and throat through her turtleneck while she thought no one was looking, threatens to call the police post-shift at 4am and sits with her through a panic attack bc “He’ll- I’m only 15, they’ll make me quit my job and we can’t to afford- and they’ll split us up, and he- Elliot won’t- he can’t- oh my god” and then takes her to his house w consent, briefs Neil bc those kids need to get out of that house but they’re not staying here, Neil who somehow takes it all without a second thought and says “well not forever, but definitely for the night”, takes Blake and Neil (awk first meeting) to Blake’s house and gets Elliot out of the house while their dad is gone (Elliot has a black eye and bruises from rough fingers on his forearm and says dad left in a rampage when he saw u were gone, and i told you that job wasn’t fucking worth it).

Elliot doesn’t trust either of the men after what his sister protected him from and doesn’t know wtf is happening bc he thought Blake had been borrowing her friend’s bike. They stay in Andriel’s guest bedroom for the day, Abby is retired by now but only lives 45 minutes away. Neil takes charge of calling her despite Andrew thinking there’s more pressing matters like kidnapping 2 teenagers. “You didn’t kidnap us, idiot, we came with you” Blake says.

Long story short, the siblings end up staying with them longer than they thought due to lawyers and police and safety.

It becomes kind of a lost and found situation. What was once “while we get legalities figured out” became “until your father’s trial is over”, which stretched into “no way they’re getting sent to XYZ” and “until they can find someone competent enough to handle trainwreck’s, they’re stuck here” and “Dan won’t care if we bring them to Thanksgiving, right?” “Amalia’s been playing exy since she could walk, Kevin, Elliot started a year ago” “Elliot knows Santa isn’t real, right? That stops at, like, 12?” “I’m not teaching her to drive, I’ll get myself killed” “If your mouth gets you kicked out of school, don’t come crying to me” “Addie & Annie keep telling Blake to spend a weekend in Atlanta” “I’m not telling her not to date, she scares me” “Just because your mother wasn’t worse doesn’t mean she was good”

Until one day, two and a half years later, Blake hands Neil an application for adoption, who tilts it towards Andrew, who silently takes it and begins to fill it out.

Blake is 5’0, Elliot is 5’9. Blake is blonde and Elliot has light brown hair, and while they’re not ghostly pale, both of them burn in the sun in .2 seconds.

Elliot does cross country and was training for a 10k when they left their dad so Neil gladly continues that. He’s in awe when he finds out who Andrew and Neil really are, not because he knows their names but bc once he watches their old games it’s like watching gods to him. He’s a true golden retriever which isn’t helped by his ADHD, anxiety and mild dyslexia, which he doesn’t get medicated for until he’s 16.

When Elliot was 13 he almost drowned in a lake bc he was never taught how to swim. When their dad found out he took him back to the lake against his will and kept tossing him in the lake until he kept himself afloat enough to pull himself up onto the dock, nearly coughing up water. It was so traumatic to a young kid that Elliot had a problem with bodies of water after that. Instead of being fine just not going in, he avoids pools or lakes entirely. Beaches are give or take since he can sit far up on the sand.

Elliot watches exy with Neil and feels cool about it; latches onto King instantly and vice versa bc she’s an ESA and his anxiety is through the roof half the time.

Elliot gels very quickly with Jace and Abram when Andriel brings them to Thanksgiving at the Boyd’s house. Once he gets the boys’ numbers they add him and Blake to the groupchat they have with Kateaaron’s, Kevin’s, and Allison’s kids.

Later, when Elliot goes to college at PSU, he and Abram room together. They become even more attached at the hip (impossible) and Elliot becomes infatuated with Abram in a totally normal way that he eventually figures out by spring break is definitely bc he wants to fuck him. But Elliot is chaotic and too anxiety ridden to ever make a move so he bides his time being innocently flirty that comes off as being silly, and doesn’t complain when Abram wraps his arms around him or lets him sleep back to back in Abram’s bed after Elliot has a bad nightmare or can’t turn his brain off at night.

Eventually, sophomore year when they live in a house with 3 other guys, Elliot climbs into Abram’s bed face down after a night out, almost half on top of Abram. They’re literally both so drunk. “You’re in my bed,” Elliot slurs. “S’my bed, babe”. Elliot lifts himself up on his elbow over Abram’s (warm and shirtless) chest. “Who you callin babe?” Abram giggles lowly and Elliot leans down and kisses his cheek, “You can be my babe, babe” he boops Abram’s nose and giggles drunkenly, and his head is dipped low already when he lets his lips lightly press down on Abram’s chin, simply touching, before actually pressing a kiss there after a second. Abram’s hand comes up just as he presses that second kiss down, tangling into Elliot’s hair, and when Elliot pulls his head back up Abram’s grip tightens. Abram tilts his chin up and kisses just beside Elliot’s mouth, pulling him down fully and kissing him deep after the two pause against each other for less than a moment.

Aka, they hardcore make out. We’re talking ass grabbing, lib biting, neck sucking, Elliot straddling Abram, a bit of dry humping, Abram pressing him down into the mattress and moving down to-

Anyway, when they wake up Elliot runs to the bathroom connected to Abram’s room to throw up, and when he notices Abram come to the doorway he says “Dude, you sucked my dick” into the toilet bowl “you’re, like, really good at it, too” immediately wretches again. And it’s probs the hazy hangovers, but Abram says, “Yeah, been wanting to do that for a while” “Thank god, I’ve been dreaming about you doing that since last year… Hey, B?” Abram hums and Elliot doesn’t even lift his face from his arms over the toilet seat before asking “Wanna go out with me?” cue gagging, but luckily Abram splashes his face w water and leans down to just kiss the back of Elliot’s neck “oh that was hot” Elliot mumbles. “Yes, I’ll go out with you” “Thanks… Hey B?” another hum “Can you start the shower and also kill me while you’re at it?” “Whatever you want, babe”

Junior year Abram has to live at Fox Tower but Elliot and the other 3 guys stick together. Except Abram is closer with these guys so he ends up sleeping in Elliot’s bed like 4-5 nights a week. Elliot is an absolute THEIF of clothes too, like if Abram comes over he’s going home without a hoodie.

Elliot calls him B or Bram, most recently babe. Abram calls him baby, El, and sometimes sugar when they’re alone.

Blake is queer too which Neil gets really relieved by because how tf do u give a girl the talk. Turns out Andrew had already done it bluntly and against her will when she first went on a date at 16.

Blake doesn’t go to uni but gets her associates at a community college and Allison somehow gets her an internship with a PR agency, shocking considering her no-filter and sailors mouth.

Aaron & Katelyn:

They have identical twin girls: Annalise and Addison.

The twins are… not planned… they’re 26 and Aaron’s in his last semester of med school while Katelyn is nearing the end of her first year of residency (bc exy players 5th year). Thankfully Aaron had already been matched with the hospital Katelyn was at for his residency.

Aaron gets genuinely terrified when she tells him over the phone like 3 days before he was due to visit. He calls Andrew bc it’s too soon and this isn’t supposed to happen and he doesn’t know how to be a parent when the only one he had was a piece of shit and it’s the first time Andrew hears him audibly diss Tilda without adding “but she was my mom”. Andrew doesn’t say much, but he does say “You had a terrible childhood, yes?” “I mean, yeah” “Good. Don’t replicate it, and maybe yours won’t hate you.” and it’s enough.

All of this is thrown out the window when they find out they’re having twins. Aaron almost faints.

Annalise’s nickname is Annie and sometimes Anna by school friends. She has zero preference between the three options.

Addison rarely gets called her full name other than teachers, gets called Addie.

Andrew calls them both by their full names.

Katelyn has no middle name, so when her and Aaron get married she made Mackenzie her middle name and took Aaron’s surname.

Aaron calls his girls Ad/Addie-baby and Anna-bear.

Addie’s middle name is Mackenzie, Annie’s is Nichola…. you know why🥹

When Katelyn has to full name them she’ll typically yell “Annalise Nick!” and “Mackenzie!”

Aaron didn’t like the nickname Annie bc she’s a redhead and “orphan annie” felt weird bc he and Andrew are orphans. But Katelyn loved the name and it came naturally from others so he got over it.

Addie is bisexual aromantic. Annie is straight.

Addie goes to University of Georgia, and Annie goes to PSU for their really good speech pathology program (the twins are a year older than Jace/Blake and 2 years older than Abram/Elliot so Annie was the first kid to go to PSU).

The twins grew up in Chicago until they were 11, then moved to Atlanta, Georgia. Since they’re close to U Georgia, Addie tells her parents they’re only allowed to visit when she says so she’s not suffocated. Annie is more of a homebody so she not only loves that Dan is at PSU, but would let Kateaaron visit every weekend if they wanted (daddy’s girl).

Allison:

Maybe she gets married maybe she doesn’t, regardless I like to think she doesn’t for a while and ends up adopting a 3 year old named Sabrina.

Sabrina grows up to be a natural honey blonde just like Allison and coincidentally has her same smokey grey eyes.

Queen of nicknames: Sab, Bri, Brina, Briners, Reynolds.

Sabrina never puts a label on her sexuality and is pretty fluid with it, just doesn’t rlly give a fuck.

Grows up in Miami but they go to NYC every winter break and normally 1-2 times every summer. Grew up traveling with Allison but not enough that it affects her childhood.

Goes to NYU. Eventually helps Allison run, design, model for her fashion empire.

Has like a million followers on Instagram, has modeled for Victoria Secret, has been a brand ambassador for Moschino and goes to Paris fashion week w Allison every year once she’s 16.

Since the Foxes go on vacation every summer together, Sabrina grows up very close with the twin girls since they’re the same age. Brina and Addie *experimented* together when they were younger bc they didn’t wanna go to college not knowing anything. Since then, every time they see each other they end up hooking up. They’re very touchy feely with one another, but Brina is kinda like that anyway. Addie only tolerates her and Annie being like that.

They jokingly call their situation “best friends who bone”. Realistically, they’re in a (long distance lol) queerplatonic relationship that just includes sex. Annie secretly thinks Sabrina is aro as well but keeps it to herself bc it doesn’t matter to label it.

Kevin & Thea:

Amalia Day🫶🏼

Youngest of the kids, 3 years younger than Abram/Elliot. They weren’t necessarily concerned with the prospect of kids, so she isn’t born until Kevin is 32 and Thea is 36, not even a full year after she retires due to one too many knee injuries. She goes to Kevin one day after practice and kinda straight up says, “I want a child- No” she cuts him off “I’m 36, I want to be a mother, I want to be a mother with you, and I don’t want to be seventy when she goes off to college” but Kevin just says “She?” “Yes, I’m not bringing another spitting image of Kevin Day into this world”.

Clearly, they do have a girl. Despite Thea’s blunt and sometimes abrasive approach to some things, she takes to being a mother with all the gentle-ness that Kevin remembers of his own, and it’s enough to calm him about being a father (bc we all know Kevin was shitting his pants the whole time).

Amalia is tanner than Kayleigh was, but it’s unnerving how similar she looks to Kayleigh. It makes Wymack a complete pushover for her (though he always says no at first just to say he did).

Amalia grows up playing exy, of course, but also soccer and dance which pains Kevin and Thea reminds him to stfu. Thankfully for him, she’s really fucking good at Exy and gives up dance by the time she’s 8 and soccer by 11.

Plays for the US Teen Exy All Stars team (idk made it up). She plays offensive dealer. Her playing becomes Kevin’s dare I say obsession, but he becomes good (by force of Wymack, Thea, Andrew and surprisingly Jean) at being normal about it- not forcing exy down her throat and pressuring her. It’s good that she’s not a striker living up to Kevin’s legacy.

Amalia makes a Twitter when she’s 16 and it lasts about 3 weeks until Kevin finds out and makes her give him her password to monitor the account. Smart, giving the family’s status and her age, but she acts like it’s the end of the world.

If it wasn’t for Wymack, she would probably be an entitled brat. He keeps her humble along with the other kids.

Terrible fucking driver. Like holy shit.

Thea learned French over the years, so they raise her speaking English and French. As a teen she says she wishes she spoke German instead since Andrew, Aaron, Neil, Nicky, Erik, Annie, Addie, and Blake (eventually) all speak it.

She eventually goes to play for USC Trojans, plays pro, and goes to the Olympics as a 4th year senior in college.

Ages:

Sabrina Reynolds, the twins

Blake/Jace

Elliot/Abram

Amalia

All the kids are one year apart, with Amalia the youngest at 3 years younger than the boys and 5 years younger than Sabrina.

That’s all folks holy shit this was long. Maybe I’ll expand on it soon

[scenequeenwritingmachine]

Just for Tonight

Pairing: Genma Shiranui x Fem Reader (Smut)

WC: 7k

Summary: You run into an old friend, he invites you to come over and get high like old times.

Warnings Under the Cut

Warnings: mildly dubious consent (they're both high), porn with feelings, body worship, fingering, blow jobs, p in v, riding, floor sex, extremely light angst, friends to lovers

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

“Funny seeing you here,” a voice rang out behind you, “it’s been a while.”

You turned around, a gentle smile spread on your face when you saw him.

“Yeah, it has, Genma.”

You never would’ve expected to see him at the market, you had hardly seen him at all over the past couple years. Things weren’t like they were when you were teenagers anymore, you had both grown up and were now in your early thirties, basically living in different worlds at this point. You mostly worked at the academy training the next generation of ninja, hardly going out into the field anymore. You wanted to settle down and start a family, while he remained one of the most active shinobi in Konoha. You had never even given thought to the idea of him grocery shopping, with how little he was around. You figured he just lived off of the rations and food pills he received on missions. Yet here he was.

He stood in casual attire, simple black pants and a turtleneck. You didn’t think you had seen him like this since your early twenties. He still wore his bandana with his signature senbon hanging from his lips, though. He hardly looked like he had aged at all, his face was still smooth and youthful, unaffected by the stress of the job. He looked at you with soft eyes and a relaxed smile.

“It’s the first time I’ve gotten a couple days off in forever, so I figured I’d run some errands like a normal person,” he let out a slight chuckle. “I know it’s been a long time, but I couldn’t resist the urge to say hi to an old friend, so,” he trailed off, “hi.”

“Hi,” you replied. You couldn't help but fall into his charm.

“So, how has the academy been treating you?” he asked. “I know kids can be a handful, so I applaud you for putting up with them,” his tone was lighthearted, a bit more sweet than you’re used to with him.

“I’ve been doing fine with the kids,” you chuckled, “you’re right, they can be a handful at times, but these children really are incredible. I can already tell the future of our village is in good hands.”

“Well, you have always liked kids, I’m surprised you don’t have any of your own yet,” he remarked.

“I would if I could, but I haven’t found the right guy yet,” you explained, “ I wanna do it right, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I know you’re the type of woman who would do anything to give your children a good life, I guess making sure you find a good dad for them is pretty damn important,” he replied.

You wondered if Genma ever thought about having a family. He always struck you as the lifelong bachelor type, never settling down. He seemed to really care about his job, always active and busy, but he never seemed too stressed. He liked helping people and protecting the village, he was born to be a ninja.

“I think you’ll find him though,” Genma continued, “I think any man would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks Gen, I appreciate it,” you smiled. You didn’t expect him to ever say anything like that, but his words warmed your heart. He had always been a genuine guy, but he tended to be a bit more of a smartass. Maybe it was the casual setting, but you liked this side of him.

“I’ve got a few more errands to run and I know you have to get your groceries home, but I was wondering,” he trailed off for a moment. “If you aren’t busy, do you wanna come over to my place and light one up like old times?” he asked. “I still live in the same apartment,” he added.

You thought about it for a moment.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” you replied, “just give me a time and I’ll be there.”

“How ‘bout 8?” he suggested.

“Yeah, that’s good for me.”

It had only been around 1pm when you ran into him, but something made you want to finish your shopping and get home as soon as possible. Somehow, seven hours didn’t feel like enough time to get ready. Maybe you were just excited to go to an old friend’s house and hang out, not confined to the setting of a mission. You hadn’t been to his apartment in almost ten years. Sure, you had seen him plenty of times since then, you had often been assigned on missions together. You really only stopped seeing him over the past two years, since that was when you transferred to the academy. It was only natural that forgetting about the stresses of life and relaxing with a friend sounded appealing, but you couldn’t help the way your heart rate picked up thinking about it. After all, when you were younger you’d hang out with all of your friends at his apartment, but now it would just be you and him.

Once you got home and put away your groceries, you headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower. You spent a bit longer than you usually would, but you were basically operating on autopilot with your shave-day routine. After you finished in the shower, you got out and put on a nice outfit, then you proceeded to dry and style your hair. Finally, you finished up by applying your usual makeup. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel pretty.

It was still only 6:30 by the time you finished getting ready, so you cooked up a light dinner and ate. You knew that you and Genma would be having snacks later, so you didn’t want to overdo it. After you finished eating, you checked yourself in the mirror one more time, smiling. You looked at the clock, it was 7:30, exactly the time you needed to leave to arrive at his place by 8. You were a very punctual person, after all.

You felt nostalgic as you walked the familiar streets. You reminisced about your younger days when you and all of your friends would head to Genma’s to get high after a night of bar hopping. The next day when you showed up to get your mission briefing, you’d all be hungover. The Hokage would always chastise you all for your irresponsibility, yet you’d always end up doing it again. Eventually though, you did end up quieting down and everyone found their niche. You don’t remember when it happened, but one day everyone just got too busy to hang out, all of the shared meals, cheerful banter, and partying just stopped.

‘I guess we all had to grow up someday’ you thought to yourself.

Soon, Genma’s apartment building came into view. You didn’t know why, but nervous butterflies started flying around in the pit of your stomach. You approached his door and knocked. After a few beats, he opened it.

“Perfectly on time as always, come in,” he invited, stepping to the side so you could pass him. His tone was relaxed and casual as usual, with a slight drawl.

You smiled at him and stepped in. His apartment hadn’t changed at all in the past decade. It still had the same posters and artworks covering the walls, you wondered if he just never had the time to change the place up since your early twenties. He had the lights dimmed with the radio playing quietly in the background, it was the same atmosphere that always made his apartment the best place to get faded.

“I’m sure you already have some, but after I ran into you, I decided to buy some extra snacks. I know you always get the munchies really bad, so I hope your favorites haven’t changed in the past ten years,” you laughed.

He smiled, shaking his head to signify that they hadn’t changed. He then gestured to the kitchen bar for you to put down the grocery bag you brought.

“Thanks,” he said, adding in your name, “feel free to make yourself comfortable while I roll up.”

You nodded, complying. You walked over towards his bed, sitting on the floor with your back against it. Somehow, the floor always felt the most comfortable. You watched as he walked over to the desk under his window, opening the drawer. After all this time, he still kept his weed in the same place. He proceeded to grind up the flower and then expertly rolled up the joint. It reminded you of the time when you asked him to teach you, but your sad attempt of a joint ended up just falling apart. You tried again and again, but eventually decided to suck it up and let him keep doing it. You never quite got the hang of rolling.

You studied him as he placed his senbon on the desk and picked up the joint, bringing the paper to his mouth. You were hypnotized by the way he darted his tongue out to lick the edge, adhering the rolled joint together. A slight flush rose to your cheeks, but you shook your head to snap out of your trance before he turned around to come sit by you. Once he settled on the floor to your left, he set the ashtray that had previously been on his desk between you and passed you the unlit joint.

“What a gentleman,” you teased.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he smirked, lifting his lighter to the end of the joint between your fingers.

After it was lit, you dropped your head against the bed, brought it to your lips, and took a long drag. You felt the tension that had been plaguing your body lift as you exhaled the smoke. You were beginning to feel the most relaxed you had in a long time. Then, you smiled over at Genma and passed him the joint.

You watched as he angled his head back against the bed the same way you had to take his own drag of smoke. He had heavy lids and his jawline was partially obscured by the hair that his ears separated from the back of his head. He was the embodiment of relaxation, perpetually in a calm mood, even before feeling the effects of the weed. He pulled the joint away from his mouth, and after a beat, he parted his lips, blowing out the smoke towards the ceiling.

After he handed the joint back to you, Genma got up, heading to the kitchen. He grabbed the family size bag of chips from the bag of snacks you brought and opened it, eating a couple as he walked back to join you on the floor again. You took your drag, and then he traded you for the bag. You weren’t too hungry, so you didn’t eat any of the chips, but you still accepted it to free up his hands.

After a couple more puffs each, you guys finally began loosening up, transitioning into lively chatter. You told funny stories about your experiences at the academy, like all of the times your students said wildly inappropriate things. You explained how hard it was to reprimand them, since it took all of your effort to not just burst into laughter.

“Damn, kids really do say the darndest things,” he chuckled, “where do you think they’re learning how to talk like that?”

“I have no idea,” you shrugged. “I guess we weren’t too much better in our academy years, but it does seem they’re learning more and more over time. I don’t think we were that bad, though,” you added, with extra emphasis on ‘that.’

He then told you about the time he was sent on a mission to take care of an old lady in one of the neighboring villages while her family was traveling.

“It was the worst. She was pretty easy to take care of, but I did have to bathe her and help her dress. She just wouldn’t stop flirting with me,” Genma explained, “you thought the mouth on those kids was bad? That’s not even a fraction of what this woman was like. Imagine me trying to do my job and put clothes on a fully nude 85 year old who won’t stop talking dirty and ‘flaunting’ her body at me.” You were trying so hard to hold in your laughter. ”’Oh, you’re such a handsome boy, and a ninja?! I bet you have a great body under there’,” he mocked in his best old lady voice, “‘I bet big boy Mr. Ninja could make ‘ole granny feel like a young woman again.’” You were practically rolling with laughter. “She’d be running her old lady hands up and down my vest while batting her eyelashes. Do you know how hard it was to get a bra on her? It was such a nightmare to get her decent, and every time I got something on her, she’d try to pull it off again, like I’d fall in love with her or something if I saw her naked constantly. Now that I think about it, maybe she was just an exhibitionist. The worst part was, before her family left after I arrived and when they returned, she’d revert to this quiet, helpless, sweet old granny persona. They had no idea what she was really like!”

There were tears of laughter beginning to well up in your bloodshot eyes. “I forgot that for as many dangerous missions there are, there are even more silly and mundane ones.”

He took another hit and smiled. “Yeah,” he sighed, “I want to say it’s not what I signed up for, but sadly, it is.”

The joint was starting to burn too low now, so Genma snuffed it out in the ashtray he placed between you earlier. He got up and walked to the kitchen again, this time pouring you each a glass of water. He passed you one of the glasses and walked back over to the desk to roll another joint. There was an unspoken vibe between the two of you that you both wanted to get too high to worry about anything else.

“Thanks, Genma,” you praised, raising the glass to your mouth for a sip.

He hummed in acknowledgment as he worked. His back was turned to you, but you were still captivated by his movements. Your mind wandered in your haze, thinking about nothing and everything all at once. You were too spaced out to notice when he walked back over to you.

“Here,” he spoke up, catching your attention.

In the time your mind was wandering, he had already sat down and lit the joint. Now, he held it up to you. Instead of taking it with your own fingers, you just leaned into his and took a hit. You were a bit too dazed to really pay attention to your actions, not noticing as he watched you with heavy lids and a lazy smirk. You weren’t looking at him, just gazing at the wall across from you. Once you were done and exhaled the smoke, he leaned back and did the same thing.

“Thanks for inviting me over, Genma,” you mumbled, “you’re really sweet, I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“Always,” he replied, a smile evident in his tone.

It wasn't long before you began rambling about your life, the things you wished you did with your friends, your worries, your dreams. The weed was making it too hard to shut up, you just had to get out everything that was on your mind. You both stared blankly at the wall, but Genma still listened to you intently.

After a bit, you decided you had enough and stopped smoking, but he continued to smoke a bit longer. Once he felt satisfied, he set the joint on the ashtray between you. You don’t know how long you were rambling to him, but eventually you stopped and fell into a comfortable silence.

Neither of you knew how long you sat in your shared daze, just slowly blinking at the wall. At some point, you rolled your head to the right and saw the clock above his stove. You could at least make out a 1, but you weren’t sure if it was midnight or 1am.

After you stared at the clock for a while, you slowly rolled your head back over to the left and looked at Genma. He felt your eyes on him and soon, rolled his head to look at you as well.

Your heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes made contact and you studied each other. You had no idea what he was thinking, but you couldn’t help but admire him. His pretty, brown hair fell around his face perfectly, his soft skin was illuminated by a beam of moonlight that escaped through a gap in his drawn blinds, his expression was completely neutral, but it still managed to draw you in.

He began to slightly lean in towards you, you wouldn’t have even noticed the fraction of an inch closer he got if you weren’t paying extremely close attention. Your heart fluttered and picked up a beat, but you couldn’t stop yourself from mimicking his movement, leaning in a tiny bit closer to him.

The tension in the air was so thick, you could hardly breathe, but you were too high to get flustered. He leaned in another fraction of an inch, and so did you.

His face was expressionless, but you didn’t need to read his face, you could practically hear his thoughts.

You glanced at his lips for a second as he leaned closer and you realized how bad you wanted this. Your heart was pounding in your ears, but you moved your gaze back up to his. His look said it all.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you both leaned in, closing the gap.

The second his lips met yours, a jolt of electricity buzzed through your skin. Maybe it was the weed making you sensitive or maybe it was because Genma was the person you were kissing, all you knew was that it felt like heaven.

He leaned further into you, deepening the kiss while bracing himself with his right palm on the floor behind the ashtray. He reached his left hand across his body and cupped your cheek, fingers threading their way into your hair. Soon, he nipped at your bottom lip. You opened your mouth for him in response, allowing his tongue to meet yours. The smell of weed and the taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You wanted more and more, but you didn’t know if it was possible to get enough.

Genma reveled in the sweet little sounds you made as he made out with you. He slowly began to push you back, gently moving towards laying you down parallel to the bed so he could crawl over you. However, before he could get very far, you put your palm on his chest to stop him.

He pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips to his. He gave you the cutest confused look you’ve ever seen in your life, but you just gave him a sweet smile in response.

Slowly, you began pushing him back towards his original seat against the bed. He allowed you to move his body freely. Once he was in position, you crawled over to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Then, you put your hands on his shoulders for support and lifted your right leg to swing it over his lower body. Now, you were straddling him.

Genma looked up at you, a cocky grin spreading across his handsome face. You lifted your hands from his shoulder to the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss. He could feel the happy grin on your lips as you kissed him and he couldn’t help but smile back into you. He moved his hands to rest on your hips, thumbs dipping up under your shirt and rubbing soothing circles against your skin.

Genma couldn’t believe how right your lips felt against his, it was like you were made for him. You’ve known each other for over two decades now, how did it possibly take you guys this long?

You had been straddling him with your knees rigid. Your hips had been hovering above his as you held yourself up, but you decided it was time to lower yourself down. Butterflies shot up through your stomach and you let out a soft sigh as you felt his erection against you.

Genma couldn’t help but use his hands on your hips to help guide you back and forth against him, letting out his own little groans of pleasure as you continued to kiss him deeply.

Your fingers slowly moved themselves up from the nape of his neck into his hair, one hand reaching up to slide his bandana off his head. He didn’t mind as it fell off and onto the bed behind him. His hair was disheveled, but you didn’t care. You figured it would only continue to get messier.

As you continued to lazily grind against him, Genma pulled away from your mouth. He then leaned in to start leaving love bites across the column of your neck. In response, you angled your head up to give him easier access. You moaned out as you felt his teeth graze against your skin, your fingers fully entangling into his hair.

You felt so warm. Every single one of his touches sent sparks across your skin. You could only imagine how wet you were getting as his clothed cock rubbed against you. You were trying to remember if a man had ever made you feel this good before, but you couldn't think of any times. Genma has barely touched you and it already feels like he’s the only other person in the world, like he was made for you.

Once he was satisfied with his work on your throat, he moved one of his hands from your hip to up to pull the neck of your shirt to the side. His lips met the junction between your throat and shoulder and he began to bite and suck there. You didn’t care that he was stretching out the neckline of your shirt, and you didn’t care if he left visible marks on you for all to see. All that mattered was feeling him against you.

The hand that remained on your hip moved further up under your shirt and he began gently rubbing up and down across the warm skin of your side, his fingertips grazing the bottom of your bra.

After a moment, Genma decided that he was satisfied with the purple bruises he littered across your neck and shoulder. He moved his fingertips to the hem of your shirt and tugged. You got the message and stopped grinding your hips against his, finding balance. You untangled your fingers from his hair and lifted your arms up, allowing him to slowly lift your top over your head. He dropped your shirt and rested his hands back on your hips, looking up at you with lust-blown pupils as you straddled him in only your bra. You needed him to touch you, you needed to get rid of the barriers between you, so you brought your arms behind you and unclasped your bra, allowing it to fall from your shoulders onto his lap. You quickly reached down, grabbing it and then tossing it into a random section of the room.

“So pretty,” he praised, once again sliding his hands up your bare skin. He now allowed them to rest on the underside of your breasts, thumbs grazing over your hard nipples. “Can’t believe it took this long…” he trailed off.

“Genma, please,” you don’t know what you were asking him for, you just needed more.

He leaned into the apex of your right breast, latching onto your nipple. He gently massaged the area around it with his hand, kneading your other breast with his other hand as well.

You cried out as he sucked, your hips again jolting into his. He couldn’t help but meet you with tiny thrusts of his own. You couldn’t believe how collected he appeared, you were falling apart over him and he didn’t even seem to mind how little you were touching him. If only you knew how much worshiping you got him off.

Eventually, he decided your right breast had enough attention for the time being and he switched to the left. His fingers slid easily across the spit-soaked skin of your right breast as he moved to knead it. You could hardly handle the feeling as he rolled your abused nipple between his fingertips.

It was all getting to be too much, you had to feel him. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his turtleneck against his back as he sucked you. You needed it off, you needed to touch him.

He soon got the message and pulled off of you, quickly discarding his shirt.

You sat back on his hips as you studied his body. You giggled to yourself, remembering the story he told you about the horny old lady he had to take care of. Her prediction was right, he really did have a perfect body under his baggy clothes. He was lean, not super massive, but still toned and fit. There was a dusting of light freckles across his shoulders and a smattering of tawny hairs down his lower abdomen. He leaned back and gave you another cocky smile with heavy-lidded eyes as you ogled at him. As much as he wanted to take care of you, he didn’t mind the attention.

You reached out and lightly ran your fingers down the contours of his chest. You felt lines of tight scarred skin under your fingertips at points, but his scars were a lot like yours, long since faded. You were so grateful that he didn’t seem to have any recent wounds. You knew it was part of the job, but the idea of him being injured made a tear begin to well up in your eye. Working at the academy, it was rare for you to get injured now. You were really only in danger during emergencies, since of course it was still your responsibility to protect the village as a ninja. But Genma, he was still on active duty, he could be called out on a mission at any time, he could get injured at any time, he could die at any time. He wasn't yours, you had barely even seen him in two years, but you couldn't bear to lose him.

You managed to break yourself out of your negative thoughts almost as quickly as they began. You think Genma noticed the slight falter in your expression, but he didn't say anything. You were usually a pretty positive person, so you attributed the weed to making you a bit more emotional.

You brought your arms to drape around his neck and kissed him again. In response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. As you sat on his lap, chest to chest, heart to heart, your kisses were deep and sensual.

The room was filled with hums and sighs of pleasure, along with the sound of the ambient radio playing in the background. You felt his hands drift under the waistband of your pants and underwear to grope at your ass as he guided you across his clothed erection. It felt so good, your eyes rolled every time you even thought about what was hiding under his pants.

Lucky for him, your waistband was stretchy. Genma didn’t even need to pull your pants down, he just angled his wrists out and they slowly rolled down on their own. Once the entirety of your ass was revealed to the air you lifted your legs up one at a time, allowing him to help you completely discard your pants. After they were fully off, he stopped kissing you and angled his jaw to the side so he could rest his chin on your shoulder. He reached his right hand between your legs from the back and ran a finger through your sopping wet cunt.

“Gen-!” you cried out, practically falling limp against him. You could almost feel the smirk he had on his face as he moved to pump his index and middle finger in and out of you. You couldn't see him, but you knew his mannerisms well enough to get a good idea of what face he was making. His left hand was groping your ass as he worked you with his right. You were involuntarily pushing your hips further onto his fingers, you needed everything he could give you.

“You're doing so well for me,” he purred, his voice low and erotic.

You were quiet, biting your lip as you tried to muffle your squeaks of pleasure. Your hands were buried in his hair as if it was the only thing grounding you. Your nipples were being stimulated as they rubbed against his bare chest, blessing you with yet another wonderful sensation.

After a few moments, he pulled his fingers out of you. You whined in annoyance, but he gently shushed you, kissing your shoulder in comfort. He then reached further under you until his middle finger came in contact with your clit, his thumb now replacing where it had been previously.

You sobbed out a high pitch moan as he rubbed circles around your clit. He found the perfect angle and you could feel your impending orgasm bubble up. You were panting and mewling as he worked you.

Genma knew you were getting close by the way you were squirming against him, it only egged him on. He kept a steady pace as he rubbed gentle circles around your clit, knowing consistency was the easiest way to make a woman cum. He had found the perfect angle for you and he wasn’t going to waste it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he whispered into your ear, enunciating your name at the end. “It’s okay, sweet girl, you can cum for me.”

You nodded your head vigorously

“Wanna cum for you, Genma. Wanna be your good girl,” you babbled between moans.

Your heavy panting soon picked up speed and you stopped being able to hear anything over the beating of your heart. Your body was already trembling as you approached your climax.

Genma continued to praise and coo at you, he knew this was it.

“Gen-, gonna-,” was the last thing you managed to get out before your orgasm hit you. You let out a choked scream as your eyes rolled back. You saw stars as Genma worked you through your climax with more gentle circles on your clit. Soon though, you started trembling really hard and you were beginning to get overstimulated. Genma didn’t want to be mean, so he pulled his hand away from you and you slumped against him.

Now it was his turn to groan as he felt your bare, soaked pussy land atop the outline of his clothed cock. He knew how ready you were for him, your slick had dripped down the back of his hand all the way to his wrist as he fingered you earlier. He could hardly wait to feel you around him.

Genma lightly held you, bringing his right hand up to pet your hair. He didn't even care that he was getting it sticky with the release you dripped onto his hand earlier.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, coaxing you out of your slump.

You pulled away from him and looked up at him with your pretty, bloodshot eyes. You backed up off of his lap, fully nude and perfect. Genma was entranced by your beauty, his high making you seem nothing short of a goddess. He watched as you reached out and placed your hand over his cock. He groaned out and lightly bucked up into you as you palmed him.

“Genma, I wanna see,” you drawled.

“Anything for you,” he smiled in response.

He moved to hook his hands under the waistband of his pants, lifting his hips to roll them down. You watched him intently, slowly blinking as he revealed the rest of his body to you. He was absolutely perfect.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him. His hair was disheveled and sticking to various parts of his flushed face, his chest was rising and falling with heavy inhales, and his perfect, thick cock bobbed against his lower abdomen. He swallowed as he watched a drip of slick from your cunt roll down your inner thigh.

You reached your right hand out and wrapped your fingers around his cock, rubbing small circles over the head. His cock was heavy and warm with a drop of precum threatening to roll down the tip. Genma groaned and sighed as you familiarized yourself with it.

You leaned over, maneuvering yourself to rest on your stomach. You couldn't bear to not taste him, so you allowed your tongue to lick over the tip, picking up the bead of precum that had been resting there. He tasted absolutely divine.

You gently wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock, licking and sucking the tip. Your hand pumped the lower part of his shaft. Your movements were slow and lazy, his panting and groaning encouraging you. You knew you could easily stay here, sucking his delicious cock for hours, but today wasn't the day.

Genma moved his fingers to your head, lifting you off of him. He proceeded to guide your lips up to his again and you crawled up to meet him.

His kisses were so soft and deep, you never thought he would be such a sensual lover. You always figured he'd be more of a player, quick and rough, just from his personality. But he never actually talked about his sexual exploits, not even when you and your friends were all young and horny. Right now, he was treating you like he loved you, it warmed your heart and broke it all at once.

Now you were straddling Genma again, this time the both of you were fully nude. Your slick pussy caught against his cock every once in a while as you moved against him. His hands came down to rest on your waist, helping guide your hips back and forth over him.

Soon, you began getting impatient. You reached between your bodies and grabbed his cock, angling it towards your cunt. But before you could sink down on him, he stopped you. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

“I-,” he stuttered out, “I don't know if I could ever be the man you're looking for, the man you deserve,” he trailed off, “but maybe just for tonight.”

His words made your bloodshot eyes well up with tears. You just smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him again. He brought one of his hands to your cheek and wiped away the stray tear droplets.

As you kissed Genma, you still held his cock angled towards your core. You sank down on it, and both of you sighing in relief as he bottomed out. He filled you up so perfectly, stretching you in all the right ways.

You pulled away from the kiss and wiped the stray strands of hair away from his pretty face. His eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed as you began riding him, small moans were escaping his mouth.

You were letting out sounds of pleasure as he ran his hands across your body. Everything felt absolutely perfect, and your shared high made you so sensitive, increasing your pleasure exponentially.

Genma soon opened his eyes as he guided you up and down. He noticed your gaze was fixed, watching his cock disappear in and out of you. Eventually your eyes made their way back up, locking with his.

In that moment, a wave of images flashed through Genma’s eyes. He saw how you looked when you first met, how you teased him growing up, even though he only ever played along, never giving you the satisfaction of successfully messing with him. He saw your pretty smile when you and your friends went on a picnic, he spent that whole day trying not to let it slip that he was absolutely enamored by the beauty you exuded in your sundress. He thought of the way you laughed loudly when you were high, not caring about anything else. He saw the bittersweet expression you gave him the day you told him that you were going to transfer to the academy, no longer joining him on missions. He even saw memories of things that never happened. He saw you on your wedding day as you walked down the aisle towards him, he saw you pregnant with his baby, and he saw you surrounded by your shared children.

Genma was absolutely in love with you. He wanted to be the man you chose to spend your life with, but right now he didn’t have a life to give you. It hurt, the idea of you settling down with someone else, but he couldn’t hold you back for his own selfish reasons. He had to let you fly free and make your own choices, it wouldn't be fair to prevent you from building a family now by making you wait for him.

His face wasn’t showing the complex emotions he was feeling, it just conveyed the pleasure of great sex. Genma couldn't help but pull you flush against him again. If he couldn't have you forever, if this was his only chance, he needed to feel all of you right now.

You were mewling and whimpering against him, pussy tightening as he thrust up into you. He felt so amazing and you couldn't get enough.

Genma began peppering kisses against you, against your face, your neck, your shoulder. He then brought a hand between you and started rubbing circles around your clit again.

You were practically sobbing against him as you bounced on his cock. He knew he wasn't going to last long either. Your name escaped his mouth, and his escaped yours. You were babbling praises and he was showering you with affection.

“Where do you want it?” he asked as he strained against you.

“Inside, Gen, please I need it inside,” you cried out.

“Are you sure? I won't do it if you aren't sure,” he choked out.

“Yes Genma- please, I need it, I trust you,” you responded.

His heart fluttered at the sound.

The feeling of him inside of you and the pressure he was putting on your clit was too much, you were about to cum. You could tell that he was about to as well.

You screamed out as your orgasm hit you, his hitting at the same time. He pulled your body as tightly against him as possible as he milked himself into you, letting out a mixture of praises, expletives, and your name.

He couldn't remember the last time he came this hard, and neither could you.

As you came down from your shared high, your heartbeats slowed and your bodies relaxed. He hugged you and rubbed soothing circles on your back.

He wanted to tell you he loved you, but he knew he couldn't. He knew saying it would come with expectations, expectations he couldn't meet. The last thing he wanted to do was break your heart and hold you back from your dreams.

You leaned back, pulling Genma in for another deep kiss, his cock still buried inside you. This kiss was gentle, it wasn't a kiss of lust, but one of pure love.

He melted into you, smiling.

“Genma, thank you, thank you for taking care of me,” you praised. You wanted to tell him you loved him, but you knew it would only put a pressure on him that he didn't need. You really had always loved him, but you never acted on it. You knew he would always be just out of reach.

Eventually, you began to get up, smiling at him as you pulled off. You found your panties and pulled them on, along with your shirt. Once you were slightly decent, you walked over to his bathroom to go take your post-sex pee and freshen up.

As the bathroom door closed, he got up and found his briefs, pulling them on. He picked up the ashtray with the half smoked joint and put it on his desk, he also cleared away both of your discarded water cups.

He was undeniably tired, the late hour mixed with the weed was starting to hit him. So, he crawled into his bed.

After a few minutes, you walked out of the bathroom and saw him in his bed, pressed up next to the wall. He left his covers folded over, inviting you to get in.

“Come here,” he smiled, “ I’m not gonna make you walk home at this hour, especially not in the state you’re in.”

Your face lit up with joy and you ran over to crawl into the bed with him, settling with your head against his chest, his arm wrapped around you. You both breathed in a slow, steady rhythm, quickly drifting off to sleep.

You woke up with sunlight filtering through the gaps in Genma’s closed blinds. For a moment, you forgot where you were, but you quickly remembered. You were engulfed by Genma’s scent, his heart was beating under your ear, and his arm was still wrapped around you. You smiled to yourself as you blinked away the sleep.

You slowly angled your head up to look at him and his eyes met yours, he was already awake. He smiled at you with pure adoration.

Looking at you waking up next to him, Genma swore to himself that if you still weren't married by the time he was ready to settle down, he would do it himself.

[genoskissors]

Finally done! Thank you everyone for your patience!

Principal Monokuma’s Room Check!

Trigger Happy Havoc Boys

THH Girls Rooms

There are a few notes throughout to explain some things I thought most would not know (like Japanese traditions) or just to clarify things changed in localization.

Naegi-kun’s Room Edition

Sigh. It’s the private room where a high school boy spends his agonizing nights, even so, what’s with this plainness!? Why don’t you have something more shameful or embarrassing!? Naegi-kun, I’m disappointed in you!

Checkpoints: A: It’s the memo pad I prepared. It would be nice if it had Hope’s Peak Academy’s school emblem on it, to give it a rich feeling.

B: This is the key to the room. It has a key holder with the appropriate name on it. It cannot be bought and is very sophisticated, so improper usage is prohibited!

C: It’s a mock sword that was kept on the display shelf. Even though it was only decoration, it was carefully displayed, so an incident happened. Upupupu.

D: I heard that mysterious curly hair grows in boys’ rooms. An adhesive lint roller is useful for frequent cleaning! I’m so attentive! Note: Don't really know what this means, I think it might be referencing Junko's hair.

Ishimaru-kun’s Room Edition

It’s a room filled with study materials and is well organized, just as one would expect from a serious person like Ishimaru-kun’s room. Hmm~ If you spend all your energy on this, you won’t be able to focus on the killing game!

Checkpoints: A: Dictionaries and reference books are the most exciting when lined up neatly on your desk. Huh? Are you using them properly? Hee~...

B: He irons his uniform every day. Also, the armbands as well, so you know he really likes this things.

C: A New Year’s tradition, Kakizome. I suggest “In early spring, be careful of bears, as they can get ferocious!” Huh? Aren’t you going to start writing?

D: What kind of guy likes to swing around a bamboo sword even though he isn’t part of the kendo club? Do you stand on the ground, put your forehead on it, and spin around to split a watermelon? Note: This is a Japanese game called Suikawari.

Togami-kun’s Room Edition

Genuine rich people tend to seek a more modest sense of luxury rather than those who are nouveau riche. I have no clue how much Togami-kun’s room actually costs. Note: “Nouveau riche” refers to people who become rich themselves and “genuine rich people” refers to people who were born into a rich family, like Byakuya.

Checkpoints: A: It’s a violin or something. Famous ones can be worth billions. That’s more expensive than the famous Chinese medicine, bear bile, which is very pricey, roar! Note: Based on the phrase "violin or something" it's likely a viola. That's just my theory though.

B: There is nothing more difficult than determining the value of a painting. In many cases, collecting these masterpieces is not about appreciating art, but investing in it.

C: Ahaha! A red carpet laid out from the entrance, Togami-kun must be kidding me! That’s what the life of stardom is about!

D: The famous line “I will kill you, without fail!” is what makes Togami’s glasses indispensable! I can’t believe he has 10 of them, that’s quite a thorough preparation!

Oowada-kun’s Room Edition

I believe that biker gangs are a style and a fashion. That’s why it’s necessary for those who call themselves bikers to have an easy-to-understand logo or item that appeals to everyone. Upupu.

Checkpoints: A: These are the big flags put on the back of bikes, aren’t they? I always wonder if they are safe from being blown away by the wind.

B: These are all motorcycle magazines, right? I’m not going to go as far as suggesting philosophy books or economic magazines, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to open a textbook once in a while?

C: Are you really satisfied with the 5G “ Cypress Stick”? Isn’t the 1500G “Steel Broadsword” the catharsis? Note: I’m pretty sure this is a Dragon Quest reference.

D: This is the colorful banner of Oowada’s gang, “Crazy Diamonds”. Hmm, you’re only really good at difficult kanji.

Kuwata-kun’s Room Edition

Hey, Kuwata-kun, baseball doesn't even have a “ya” character! I know you don't like it, but now that you're at our school, maybe you could try to act like a baseball player, even if it's a front? Note: The Japanese word for baseball, Yakyuu (野球), has a “ya” in it, so I think Monokuma is just saying this to see if Leon will even care enough to react to his statement.

Checkpoints: A: Why do self-proclaimed punk fans like human skulls? A sea bream head has another sea bream inside, right? That's even more favorable! Note: I'm not gonna lie, I have no clue what that second sentence means. I think it relates to the saying “鯛の尾より鰯の頭”, but I still don't know how it correlates.

B: I want CDs and DVDs to come in splendid limited edition packaging, but they don’t fit neatly like this. How troubling.

C: Carrying your guitar case on your back and feeling tired as you walk around town is super cool. There was a time when I thought that way too.

D: In order to stand out and be popular, you need to have vocals. Kuwata-kun's purity is manly in a sense. I would like to hear his beautiful voice. Upupu.

Yamada-kun’s Room Edition

A utopia making the world’s geeks water at the mouth, the pink love nest of Buuko and Yamada-kun. As a despair maniac, I am driven by a desire for a room devoted solely to my hobby. Note: Buuko is Princess Piggles in the localization.

Checkpoints: A: Hey, I’m giving it everything I got to ask this question, is this what Yamada-kun is wearing? Isn’t it self-indulgent to wear it on his 170cm and 155kg body!?

B: “MARTIAL ARTS LADIES”, “This time, I’ll punish you on the mat!”.  I don’t understand why martial arts cosplay makes your heart pound.

C: Some people say these sheets and body pillow are perverted, but the desire for skin contact is neither two-dimensional nor three-dimensional.

D: Three-dimensional objects have a sense of unity because they are equipped with a three-dimensional concept. The shading of light and the convergence of existence are astonishing (The following is omitted). Note: “The following is omitted” is just a way of saying Monokuma kept rambling.

Yasuhiro-kun's Room Edition

Hagakure-kun’s love of fortune-telling is, quite honestly, shady, right? Even though he has all these tools, he still uses intuition to tell fortunes, doesn’t he? So, what in the world are these piles of junk for!?

Checkpoints: A: People with extremely dry skin tend to have a lot of wrinkles on their palms, which makes palm readers cry. It’s hard to even do fortune-telling these days.

B: Fortune-telling cards are great for mysteries and romance. If I sold "Monokuma’s Carefully Made Pure Gold Tarot", maybe I could make a profit. Upupupu.

C: If anything, Hagakure-kun has more of an oriental divination image. When I see tools like this, I want to display them in an alcove or something.

D: Come on! How many times do I have to say this!? When buying fortune-telling goods online, do not cash on delivery! This time, I was the one who paid for it too!

Fujisaki-kun’s Room Edition

Even though he’s the Super High School Level Programmer, Fujisaki-kun actually has a variety of hobbies. That’s good, science... a science student! I want to learn many things from him.

Checkpoints: A: Three monitors and a luxurious-looking executive chair. He looks like a young company president or day trader. A serious side profile would be wonderful!

B: I don’t know what this is, but it looks amazing anyway! It looks like an ancient map or some other geeky item.

C: After people learn how to interact with the romantic hyperspace of the universe, their outlook on life changes drastically. That’s what I thought just now.

D: Tada! There are hand grips on the bed! It makes me tear up to know he was secretly training.

[weewookinard]

if you aren’t big on mpreg then just ignore this but for the fluffy headcanon is that buck loves talk to the baby that tommy is growing.

Fun fact, I used to be anti mpreg before I entered this fandom but now I'm as obsessed as everyone else!

Tommy being the one pregnant is so important to me. He always thought he was not worthy of love and happiness and is now growing the fruit of his perfect love and he's beaming with pride and joy. He adores it, even the worst parts of pregnancy, because it's a reminder of how lucky he is to have this perfect life.

And we know Evan is a yapper, and Tommy loves it. He would be okay with only listening to Evan for the rest of his life -well, he was before he saw the pregnancy test showing two bars- and never tells him to shut up. Evan is so interesting, either he's talking about work and how they saved everyone, or when he explains to him all the new things he learned while deep diving on wikipedia. Tommy can remember everything Evan says to him which is a gift for Evan who cannot stress enough how lucky he is to have found such a perfect match. A match who is growing their babies.

So, when he learned that babies could hear what happened outside, he started talking to them. At first it was about how excited he was to meet them, and how happy he was to create a family with the love of his life. He told them about Tommy, how they met, how hard they fell for each other. He told them about uncle Eddie and aunt Maddie and Grandpa Bobby and everyone waiting with excitement for them to arrive.

Then, he starts talking about calls, trying not to get too dark and detailed though. He tells them about his deep dives too, and how he can't wait to teach them about the world. He tell them not to listen while they're having sex, making Tommy laugh. One day he learns that babies can have accents and he tries different ones, all so bad that Tommy can help but laugh more until he cries.

When finally the twins are born it's an effusion of love and words. Tommy is tired but he smiles because Evan is here, talking to their babies, telling them how beautiful they are and how lucky him and Papa are. A few hours later Tommy is fast asleep and one of the twins starts crying. Evan is quick to take him in his arms and tells him, voice low but full of adoration. "Stop crying sweetheart." And the baby stops because he recognizes this voice and knows he's safe in his daddy's arms. And maybe it makes Evan cry a lot.

Send me more cute headcanon about them and I'll yap about it! ❤️