#an expression of frustration and discomfort

[aventurineswife]

OMG OMG SO IMAGINW

dan heng gepard jiaoqiu and aven with a super sneaky, smart, and mischievous reader who like likes to randomly smalc their butt?? Like not in a weird way she just likes to smack them and then run off

she also likes pranking them and sometimes puts weird stuff in their food…

and then after she pranks you or whatever youll find her peeking at you from afar, wondering if youre gonna tru to get her back or if youll just move on

also bonus but imagine she is also in love with spice and her jiaoqiu would just be, terrorizing his patients

and for everyone else she’ll force them to eat spicy food and if they dont shes breaking up with them

also could you pretend jiaoqiu didnt turn blind

OKEY TYYY POOKS STAY HYDRATED

Can't Help Falling In Love

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Gepard x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Female!Reader, Fluff, Humor, Playful teasing, Light-hearted pranks, Affection, Mischievous behavior, Spicy food, Clinginess, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Mild suggestive content (slapping butt/read), Spicy food pranks (potential for discomfort), Playful teasing that may border on embarrassment for characters, Light physical affection, Jiaoqiu's not blind.

A/N: I forgot what I was writing by the second part of each characters so uh... Yeah 🧍‍♀️

The atmosphere aboard the Astral Express was quiet, as usual, save for the soft hum of the engines and the occasional chatter of the crew. Dan Heng sat at his usual post in the observation deck, his spear resting beside him as he stared out into the vastness of space. His mind wandered, as it often did, lost in the weight of his thoughts. Yet, there was a familiar feeling creeping at the edges of his awareness—a playful energy that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

He didn’t need to look up to know who was approaching.

Smack!

The sudden sound of a playful slap on his rear (more like his butt but ahem) broke his concentration. His eyes narrowed as he shot a glance over his shoulder, but by the time he did, the mischievous culprit was already disappearing around the corner.

“You’re getting bolder every day,” he muttered under his breath, feeling his cheeks flush slightly despite himself.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened. In fact, it had become almost a routine—one that he both dreaded and… tolerated. He wasn’t sure which emotion he felt more.

Dan Heng sighed, his hand unconsciously brushing the spot where you had smacked him. He could already picture you, your smile full of mischief as you ran off, knowing full well that he wouldn’t chase after you. That was his nature—calm, stoic, always in control. Yet, you seemed to be the one person who managed to get under his skin, even if just a little.

As if on cue, he heard the soft sound of light footsteps behind him. He knew it was you before he even turned around. There you were, peeking from around the corner, eyes glinting with curiosity as you waited to see if he’d retaliate or simply move on.

He did nothing, just resumed his position at the window, pretending not to notice you staring at him. That always seemed to frustrate you, but it was the only way he knew how to deal with your antics. If he acknowledged you too much, it would only encourage you.

But that didn’t stop you from testing his limits.

Later that day, at dinner, Dan Heng sat down at the table, ready to focus on his meal and avoid distractions. But, as he dug into his food, a familiar heat started to build in his mouth. He paused, his brow furrowing as he realized what had happened.

"Did you…?" he began, but the question caught in his throat as his mouth burned.

You were sitting across from him, acting completely innocent as you shoved another bite of your own food into your mouth.

“What?” you said with a shrug, though your eyes were bright with mischief. “I don’t know what you're talking about."

Dan Heng’s face turned slightly red as he pushed his plate away, reaching for his water, but it did nothing to quell the spice that was taking over his senses.

He glanced at you, giving you a deadpan stare. "I can’t believe you put ghost peppers in my food."

“Oh, you don’t like it?” you asked with a dramatic pout, though there was a glint of amusement in your eyes. "Maybe you need to learn to love spicy food, or... we’re through!"

Dan Heng stared at you for a long moment, his usual cool demeanor cracking just a little. "I… don’t think that’s how relationships work."

You gasped in mock horror. “What? Are you saying that you won’t even try for me? I put all this effort into making it spicy, and this is how you repay me?!”

Dan Heng could feel the heat of both the spices and your teasing gaze, and he sighed, rubbing his temples. He would never win this. It was like every moment with you was a new battle of wits and antics. You were relentless, always coming up with new ways to make him squirm, to make him react.

But despite his frustrations, despite how you managed to get under his skin, Dan Heng had to admit—there was something comforting about your presence. Your clinginess, your incessant affection, even your mischievous ways.

You were always by his side, always demanding his attention, and somehow, despite everything, he found himself drawn to you. Maybe it was the way you never gave up, how you insisted on showing him affection even when he didn’t quite know how to return it. He’d never admit it to you, of course, but it meant more to him than he let on.

That evening, after another of your pranks had gone off without a hitch, he found you in your usual spot—peeking from behind a corner, eyes wide and curious, waiting for him to either retaliate or, more likely, ignore it completely.

Dan Heng sighed and stood up, moving toward you.

You blinked, startled, as he stopped right in front of you, his expression unreadable. "You’ve been getting bold," he said softly, his gaze softening slightly.

You grinned widely, ready for another playful retort, but before you could speak, Dan Heng did something unexpected. He placed a hand on the small of your back, a soft, almost hesitant touch, and leaned in slightly, just close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Just don’t do that again,” he murmured, his voice low, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You froze, eyes wide, a feeling of warmth spreading through you at the unexpected affection.

“W-What was that?” you stammered, still in shock.

Dan Heng smirked slightly, his usual stoic expression returning. "You’ve been pranking me all day. I figured it was time I… responded."

Before you could react further, he walked away, leaving you standing there with a racing heart. The sting of his words, the heat of his touch, was enough to leave you speechless.

But you weren’t about to give up. You’d just have to find new ways to get him to crack.

And deep down, you knew one thing: as much as Dan Heng pretended not to care, he was already wrapped around your finger.

It was a quiet afternoon in the Silvermane Guards’ barracks when Gepard found himself walking through the corridors, his usual stoic expression softened by the gentle breeze that blew through the open windows. He had just finished his rounds and was heading back to his office, when a sudden, playful smack resounded through the hall.

His face flushed a deep crimson as he spun around, eyes narrowing as they landed on the culprit—a woman who was already darting away, her laughter echoing in the distance. It was you, of course. No one else had the audacity to sneak up on him like that and get away with it.

“[Name]!” he called after you, though his voice held no real anger. The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, even as he shook his head.

You, however, were too quick, disappearing around a corner before he could even close the distance. Your mischievous antics had become a near-daily occurrence, and despite the way they often disrupted his serious demeanor, Gepard couldn't help but enjoy them—though he'd never admit it aloud.

You weren't just a pranker, either. You were a master of subtlety. From switching his morning coffee with tea to putting an extra spicy ingredient in his lunch that nearly had him choking in front of his soldiers, you were always finding new ways to make his life... interesting. It was all harmless fun, of course, but it did keep him on his toes.

That day, however, there was a new twist. You had a habit of waiting for his reaction after a prank, often peeking at him from a distance to see whether he'd retaliate or simply let it go. You knew that Gepard, for all his nobility and military rigor, wasn’t the type to be easily angered—yet you couldn’t resist seeing if he'd ever break that calm and stoic exterior.

And sure enough, after lunch, you watched from behind a pillar as he took his first bite of the meal you had carefully prepared. His eyes widened, and he quickly took a gulp of water. The corners of your lips curled into a wicked grin, waiting for his response.

“I see what you did,” Gepard muttered, turning his gaze toward the far-off corner where you were hiding. His eyes were no longer filled with annoyance, but rather amusement, as he realized what you had done to his food.

You stepped out from your hiding spot with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe you noticed so soon!” You pouted, walking over to him. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“You know how much I despise surprises,” he replied dryly, but his tone was gentle. He could never stay mad at you for long, no matter how much you tested his patience.

“You’re so boring, Gepard. Spices are life!” You huffed, crossing your arms and jutting your lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “If you don’t eat spicy food, I’m breaking up with you. It’s just a fact.”

Gepard raised an eyebrow, looking down at you with a resigned yet fond smile. He always knew you’d say something like that. You were, after all, utterly clingy and full of contradictions.

“You know that’s not how relationships work, right?” he said with an amused glint in his eyes. “And I don’t think you’re really ready to break up with me.” His voice held a playful edge now, teasing you gently.

Your pout deepened. “I am! But if you love me, you’ll suffer through this—for me,” you whined, your voice taking on that all-too-familiar clingy tone that always made his heart skip a beat.

It wasn’t that he minded; he liked it, even if it made him feel a bit overwhelmed at times. You were just... you. A mischievous, spicy-loving whirlwind who knew exactly how to get under his skin. And despite the pranks, the playful slaps, the whining, and the teasing, Gepard loved you—maybe even more than he cared to admit.

With a sigh, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. You win.”

Your eyes lit up with joy, and before you could even say another word, you were already clinging to his arm, pulling him closer, your mischievous eyes gleaming as you nuzzled into his side. “See? Told you.”

“You’re lucky I’m too fond of you to resist,” Gepard muttered, though his heart warmed at the closeness. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to feel so vulnerable, but with you, it felt... natural.

You smirked, but your teasing glimmer faded for a moment as you leaned up to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “And you’re lucky you’re so easy to love, Captain,” you whispered sweetly, your voice filled with sincerity.

Gepard didn’t respond right away, his face flushed from the sudden affection. His breath caught in his throat, and for a split second, the reality of how much you meant to him felt almost overwhelming. He didn’t know if he could ever keep up with your antics, but one thing was certain: he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“You know,” he said, his voice a little hoarse, “I think I might just have to get you back for all those pranks.”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. “What? Nooooo!” You pulled away from him, pretending to be horrified, but your lips betrayed you as they curved into a playful smile.

“You’re not getting away that easily.” Gepard said, his voice low with a hint of challenge.

You took a step back, your mischievous grin returning as you started to edge toward the door. “You’ll never catch me, Captain! I’m too quick!”

Gepard took a step forward, his hand outstretched. “Oh, I’ll catch you, [Name]. And when I do...”

The rest of his words were lost to the sound of your laughter as you darted out of the room, but the promise lingered in the air, between the two of you—playful, full of affection, and undeniably full of love.

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind getting pranked a little more often.

Aventurine had always been a man who thrived in control—be it his strategies, his reputation, or even his carefully constructed relationships. But as he stood in the middle of their shared space, adjusting his blazer and waiting for the latest in his long series of meetings, he knew one thing for sure: he could never predict what you would do next.

And that was perhaps the most maddening—yet undeniably thrilling—thing about you.

You were sneaky, playful, and mischievous in ways that left him both exhausted and charmed. He could feel your presence before he even saw you, the air shifting when you crept into the room, your footsteps light and daring. And then—

SMACK!

You slapped his butt, not even bothering to hide the gleam of mischief in your eyes as you zipped past him with a speed that only your teasing nature could muster. Aventurine, for all his intellect, had barely reacted in time, his heart racing as he whipped around, eyes narrowing.

"Really?" he drawled, voice smooth, though the corners of his lips curled upward, revealing a hint of the smile that was never far from his face.

But you were already halfway across the room, laughing under your breath, eyes sparkling with the satisfaction of your victory. "I’ll be over there, love. You know... you’re just too easy."

He stood there, frozen in place for a moment longer, before he composed himself. There was something so infuriatingly right about this dynamic. He couldn’t help but adore how you always pushed him to the edge of his patience, never quite crossing the line, but always dancing dangerously close to it. It was a game, a dance—and one he rarely had the upper hand in.

"You really think you can just get away with that?" he said in a tone that was half teasing, half warning, as he started toward you with an easy, confident stride.

Before he could take another step, you spun around dramatically, holding your hands up in mock surrender. "Oh, come on, Aventurine. You know you love it."

He couldn’t suppress the laughter bubbling up inside him, despite himself. You were so... you. There was no faking it when it came to you. Your affection, your pranks, your relentless clinginess—it was all genuine. But more often than not, your pranks had a very specific twist to them: they always involved food. And not just any food.

You walked over to the table, where a bowl of what appeared to be pasta sat, an innocently delicious aroma filling the room. Aventurine’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t trust anything that came out of your kitchen. Not anymore.

He stood still, arms crossed, as you gestured for him to try it.

"Go ahead. It’s not too spicy this time," you said with a wink, your tone dripping with playful malice.

Aventurine arched an eyebrow, still unsure. You had slipped in spicy chilies into every dish for the past week, and each time, he’d had to force himself to take it—though he would never admit to you how much he secretly enjoyed your antics. "Spicy?" he asked, testing you.

You pouted, though you could never quite hide the mischievous glint in your eyes. "If you don’t eat it, I’m breaking up with you."

His jaw dropped slightly, half in surprise, half in exasperation. You were serious. Of course, you were.

"Not this again," he muttered, rolling his eyes, though there was no mistaking the amusement flickering in his magenta eyes.

You crossed your arms in mock defiance, giving him an exaggerated side-eye. "I’m serious, Aventurine."

With a resigned sigh, he grabbed the fork and scooped up a bite, eyeing the dish cautiously. He could practically hear you watching him, waiting for his reaction. He chewed, swallowing slowly as the heat began to take hold.

It burned. It burned. But there was something else too: the sweetness of your challenge, the intoxicating way you made him feel so alive, even if it came with a side of agony. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and he set the fork down, casually wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Not bad,” he said, his tone light. “You’ve managed to hit the sweet spot.”

You couldn’t hide your grin as you leaned in, too close for comfort, your lips pouting in a display of mock frustration. “You better not act like you love it, Aventurine. Or else I’ll have to cook for you every day.”

“You’ll do that anyway,” he replied with a teasing smile.

Before you could respond, he took a step closer, your breath catching as his presence filled the space between you. His hand slid to your wrist, gently pulling you into him, and he leaned down, brushing a kiss to your forehead.

“You know, for all your games, I really do love you,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the playful exterior faded. You looked up at him, your gaze softening as you reached up to trace his jawline.

“I love you too,” you whispered, though the words came out muffled by your sudden self-consciousness. It wasn’t easy for you to receive his affection, but there was no denying it now.

Aventurine’s smirk turned into a full, genuine smile. "Good," he said, his voice warm. "Now, as for your next prank—"

But you interrupted him, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that spoke volumes about what words couldn’t convey. And in that moment, despite the teasing and games, you both knew: the connection between you was the most thrilling gamble of all.

The evening light filtered softly through the windows of the small, cozy room that Jiaoqiu and you shared. The warmth of the setting sun cast long shadows across the wooden floor, and the soft scent of herbs and alchemical oils lingered in the air. It was a peaceful moment, but you weren’t about to let it stay that way for long.

You crept up behind Jiaoqiu as he carefully mixed ingredients in a bowl, his concentration apparent in the gentle furrow of his brow. His hair swayed with each motion, and his fox ears twitched as he hummed softly to himself. His attention was fully on his task, leaving him unaware of your sneaky movements.

Without warning, you raised your hand and slapped his backside with a mischievous grin, then darted away before he could react. You barely made it to the door before bursting into a fit of giggles. But as you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jiaoqiu’s eyes narrow, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

He sighed, shaking his head with a slight exasperation, but his voice carried a hint of warmth. “Really, [Name]? How many times have I told you not to do that?”

You grinned wider, sticking your tongue out playfully. “You’re too serious! Come on, lighten up a little!”

But Jiaoqiu didn’t chase after you immediately. Instead, he reached for his feather fan, tapping it thoughtfully against his palm. “I suppose I’ll have to think of a proper punishment for you then.” His tone was calm, but there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

You immediately froze, but before you could run again, he casually flicked his fan, catching you off guard. “I’m not done with you yet,” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying the quiet authority of someone who had been around the block enough to know how to handle a troublemaker.

As you looked at him, you couldn’t help but admire the way he balanced being both elegant and terrifying at once. But despite his composed demeanor, you knew he secretly enjoyed your antics. Deep down, you could see it in the way his lips curled slightly whenever you made him laugh. You were his puzzle, and he was determined to figure you out, but you had to admit—he was rather good at keeping you on your toes.

After a brief, playful standoff, you resumed your usual routine of pranking him. This time, you sneaked into the kitchen while Jiaoqiu was distracted with paperwork, slyly adding a bizarre combination of spices to his dinner. You just couldn’t resist watching his reaction when he took a bite, savoring the moment when he realized what you’d done.

When you finally brought the food to the table, he raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, he ate the meal with a composed elegance, never betraying any sign of discomfort. But his eyes followed you carefully, watching your every move.

You couldn’t help but giggle nervously, stealing glances at him as you waited for the inevitable. Then, the corner of his lips twitched, and he put his fork down with a sigh.

“Spicy, isn’t it?” Jiaoqiu said softly, his voice a mix of amusement and mild disapproval. “Are you trying to burn my tongue off, or is this your idea of an apology for earlier?”

Before you could respond, you caught sight of his gentle yet slightly teasing smile. He wasn’t upset, but you could tell that he’d caught onto your game. He leaned back in his chair, watching you closely as if waiting for you to make the next move.

But, as usual, you couldn’t help it. You darted off to hide behind the wall, peeking your head around it just enough to see if he would chase you—or if he would simply let you have your fun and move on. You’d learned a long time ago that Jiaoqiu didn’t rush to exact revenge, but he was always thinking, always plotting.

Sure enough, his gaze drifted to the door, and when his eyes locked with yours, a silent understanding passed between you. He wouldn’t retaliate in the way you expected. Instead, he would wait for you to come to him.

You stood there for a moment, debating whether to get closer, but before you could decide, his voice called out softly from the table. “Come here, [Name]. I’m waiting.”

A soft blush crept up your cheeks, your heart fluttering with affection as you hesitated. Jiaoqiu always knew how to draw you in, but it was that tenderness, that quiet understanding between the two of you, that made your heart race.

You were ready to move forward when you suddenly felt a familiar warmth pressing against your side, pulling you closer. Jiaoqiu wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his voice gentle but laced with something far more comforting. “Don’t hide from me. You know you’re the one I always wait for.”

You melted into his embrace, letting him pull you closer, despite the playful teasing. Your usual mischievous grin softened into a shy smile as you leaned your head against his chest. You loved giving affection, but receiving it back, even from someone as calm and composed as Jiaoqiu, made your heart flutter with an intensity you could never quite describe.

As he stroked your hair, his other hand resting casually on your back, you felt that moment of peace—the one you both shared, amidst all the pranks and playfulness. For all the chaos of your mischievous ways, Jiaoqiu was a steady presence, balancing you out in ways you couldn’t have imagined.

“I suppose I’ll have to get back at you later,” he murmured, though there was no hint of malice in his voice. “But for now… let me spoil you a little, hm?”

You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace lull you into a gentle calm. You might have been mischievous, and he might have been a strategist with a sharp mind, but in moments like this, you knew you had found something much deeper. Something that could withstand any prank, any spice, or any challenge.

You pressed your face into his chest, letting out a soft sigh. "Spoil me all you want, Jiaoqiu. But just don't leave me, okay?"

His response was a quiet chuckle as he held you tighter. "You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll always be here for you."

And just like that, in the comfort of his arms, surrounded by the peaceful rhythm of your shared life, you knew—there was no one else you’d rather prank or cling to than him.

[mrsmadlove]

⋆｡𖦹 Being with hbk in the 90s ✮

There were sticky substances like chewing gum, shoe glue, and caramels, but none of them could compare to the intensity with which Shawn clung to you. He wanted to be with you 24/7, every day of the week. Unfortunately, his work schedule and yours didn't allow for that luxury, but when they were together, whether at the company or at his house during his free time, Shawn became your shadowf. He hugged you with a force that left you breathless, needing to inhale the scent of your neck every five seconds. His arms wrapped around you like a warm and protective blanket, and his soft breathing made you feel safe and loved. Although you loved his touch and the sense of security he provided, there were moments when you needed some space for yourself. That's why you sometimes locked the bathroom door. Lol.

His possessiveness was one hundred percent, although not in a toxic way. He wasn't bothered by you wearing short dresses or revealing clothing; in fact, he loved it. He saw you as the most beautiful woman in the world, and his ego soared knowing you were exclusively his. However, there was a corner of his being that harbored jealousy when he saw you near another man. Every time you struck up a casual conversation with a guy, a pang of discomfort invaded him, although he refused to admit it. You possessed a flirtatious and seductive aura, something that had always characterized you, but not something you did intentionally to make him uncomfortable. It was simply part of your essence, something you shared between the two of you. Nevertheless, he couldn't bear the thought of you gazing at another man. That feeling transformed him into a spoiled child, eager to capture your attention, to make you look only at him. His behavior was both amusing and frustrating, but you couldn't help feeling flattered by his devotion.

Every five minutes, his lips whispered 'I love you', regardless of who was nearby to hear it. He had no shame in showing his love for you in public, and he made sure to flaunt you at every opportunity that arose. Whether it was during an interview with the press or a live speech in front of a crowd, he always found a way to mention you and express his admiration for you.

His bad mood was like a storm that passed quickly, as long as it wasn't directed at you. When he got angry about something, whether it was because his fireworks weren't ready on time or because there was a problem with the production, you were the one who could calm him down with ease. A few cuddles and caresses from you were enough to dispel his anger. A single word from you, spoken with love and tenderness, could make his bad mood disappear like magic. But when his anger was directed at you, the situation was completely different. In those moments, you felt like you were navigating a sea of honey, trying to find a way to calm him down without drowning in the process. Usually, he would give you the silent treatment, acting like an immature child. Sometimes, you simply gave up and ignored him, but most of the time, you begged for his displays of affection, eager to see his smile and feel his warmth again.

He wants to devour you every hour, every minute, in every imaginable moment: in the locker room, in the bathroom, under the shower, in the car, in an open field, at the movies, and even with the Kliq members sleeping beside him, when they had to share hotel rooms. The atmosphere was charged with palpable sensuality, and you didn't hold back either. Shawn's chiseled body was a spectacle that left you speechless, causing you to drool liters on the floor. He, with his almost sculptural beauty, moved with a confidence that left you breathless.

—Since day one, he's wanted to marry you.

[ignitesthestxrs]

there's something about the way people talk about john gaius (incl the way the author writes him) that is like. so absent of any connection to te ao māori that it's really discomforting. like even in posts that acknowledge him as not being white, they still talk about him like a white, american leftist guy in a way that makes it clear people just AREN'T perceiving him as a māori man from aotearoa.

and it's just really serves to hammer home how powerful and pervasive whiteness and american hegemony is. because TLT is probably the single most Kiwi series in years to explode on the global stage, and all the things i find fraught about it as a pākehā woman reading a series by a pākehā author are illegible to a greater fandom of americans discoursing about whether or not memes are a valid way of portraying queer love.

idk the part of my brain that lights up every time i see a capital Z printed somewhere because of the New Zealand Mentioned??? instinct will always be proud of these books and muir. but i find myself caught in this midpoint of excitement and validation over my culture finding a place on the global stage, frustration at how kiwi humour and means of conveying emotion is misinterpreted or declared facile by an international audience, frustrated also by how that international audience runs the characters in this book through a filter of american whiteness before it bothers to interpret them, and ESPECIALLY frustrated by how muir has done a pretty middling job of portraying te ao māori and the māoriness of her characters, but tht conversation doesn't circulate in the same way* because a big part of the audience doesn't even realise the conversation is there to be had.

which is not to say that muir has done a huge glaring racism that non-kiwis haven't noticed or anything, but rather that there are very definitely things that she has done well, things that she has done poorly, things that she didn't think about in the first book that she has tacked on or expanded upon in the later books, that are all worthy of discussion and critique that can't happen when the popular posts that float past my dash are about how this indigenous man is 'guy who won't shut up about having gone to oxford'

*to be clear here, i'm not saying these conversations have never happened, just that in terms of like, ambient posts that float round my very dykey dash, the discussions and meta that circulate on this the lesbian social media, are overwhelmingly stripped of any connection to aotearoa in general, let alone te ao māori in specific. and because of the nature of american internet hegemony this just,,,isn't noticed, because how does a fish know it's in the ocean u know? i have seen discussions along these lines come up, and it's there if i specifically go looking for it, but it's not present in the bulk of tlt content that has its own circulatory life and i jut find that grim and a part of why the fandom is difficult to engage with.

[lokh]

LISTEN... for all that shuro is frustrated by him he really Gets who laios is. it's because he understands him so well that he felt bad about being frustrated for so long

[ghosts-and-glory]

I know you've previously said that you don't like anyone misgendering Shamura, but what if it's in a flashback? Like Shamura used to be male/female and then transitioned to they/them pronouns.

Would that be an acceptable form of misgendering, since it would be backstory for explaining how Shamura is now they/them?

Y’all really do just want any excuse to disrespect non-binary people huh?

I really like how the idea of Shamura having a binary sex is stated as a fact/sar. As if cult of the lamb has any references to binary sex. This also assumes that I’m the ultimate authority on Shamura’s gender. “Acceptable form of misgendering,” Jesus.

[pastmuse]

The girl I work with on wednesdays and saturdays pisses me off so bad lol .. I actually like my job but she makes me wanna go home -_-

[imtheiliad]

Anyway, just a reminder, that having anon on is not an open invitation to bitch and moan in someone’s inbox 🩷

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[aventurineswife]

Dan heng aven and jiaoqiu with fem lover who is an extremely wild sleeper

Like shell go to bed under the blankets with her night gown on

And then the next morning shell be in the farthest corner of the room, wrapped up like a hotdog in the blanket with her gown of the floor and char be like wth

Tangled Sheets and Silent Words

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Romantic Humor, Sleep Disorder (Wild Sleeper), Playful Dynamic, Comfort, Affectionate Behavior, Character Growth (for Jiaoqiu's internal development), Slow Burn (in terms of emotional closeness).

Warnings: Mild Humor (due to wild sleeping habits), Some Mature Themes (light teasing, some suggestive undertones), Injury/Discomfort Mentions (Jiaoqiu's blindness and minor struggles with his trauma), Fluff Heavy.

Dan Heng had always been a man of precision, of careful routines and steady habits. So, when he first started sharing a bed with you, your unrestrained sleep patterns were a source of endless confusion and mild frustration.

It started innocently enough. You’d both prepare for bed, winding down after a long day aboard the Astral Express. Dan Heng would usually settle into his side of the bed with a book or in quiet reflection, and you’d do the same. But then, as sleep claimed you, all semblance of composure vanished.

Every morning, without fail, Dan Heng would awaken to find the bed in disarray. Where you had once been peacefully resting beside him, you were now tangled in the sheets, half of your nightgown missing, and your body sprawled out in the farthest corner of the room as if some invisible force had tried to pull you there. It was always a spectacle, like an oddly endearing disaster.

The first time it happened, he found you in a ball of blankets, your gown discarded on the floor and your hair a mess. His brow furrowed in confusion as he made his way to you, carefully untangling the fabric from your limbs. "What the hell...?" he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the disarray.

You stirred, blinking sleepily, unaware of the chaos your nocturnal adventures had caused. "Did I... do it again?" you asked, your voice barely audible but tinged with amusement.

Dan Heng sighed, kneeling beside you, his voice soft despite the bemusement. "You’ve practically destroyed the bed again." He helped you back to your feet, his hands gently guiding you as you adjusted your disheveled nightgown.

"I can’t help it," you said with a teasing smile, trying to pull the gown back up. "I sleep... wild."

"I can see that," he replied, shaking his head but secretly finding it endearing. "Just... try to stay in the bed next time, please."

You smiled up at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "No promises."

Aventurine always seemed to know what to expect. But he never anticipated this.

It was an unspoken rule between you two that after long days of business meetings, adventures, and playing the high-stakes game that was your life, there would be quiet moments when you could relax together, unwind, and sleep. And, despite his experience in strategy and manipulation, Aventurine had not calculated your nocturnal escapades.

The first time it happened, Aventurine awoke to the sound of rustling. He thought maybe you had simply turned in your sleep. But when he looked over, he saw you had somehow managed to roll halfway across the room, tightly wrapped in the blanket, only your feet sticking out like a little hotdog.

His usual calm demeanor cracked. “What the hell…?” His voice, though smooth and collected, held a tinge of disbelief. He stood, crossing the room to unravel you from your blanket cocoon, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "You... don’t you sleep like a normal person?"

You looked up at him, eyes heavy with sleep, and gave him an innocent smile. “Did I do it again?” you mumbled, barely comprehending your surroundings.

Aventurine sighed, crouching down to gently pull you back into bed, his hand brushing over your hair with an almost tender touch. "You seem to think sleep is some sort of adventure."

"I suppose it is,” you teased, trying to adjust the blanket, which was tangled like a web around your body. “I just like to... keep things interesting."

He chuckled softly, more to himself than anything. “Well, you’ve certainly done that.”

Aventurine climbed back into bed, adjusting the blankets around you. His smile was faint but sincere as he pulled you close, despite your wild sleeping habits. “Let’s keep the games to the waking hours, yes?”

"Only if you insist," you replied, your voice dripping with playfulness.

Jiaoqiu’s life had never been easy. He’d seen enough suffering in his life to know that peace was fleeting, and yet, in the quiet of his chambers, there was one thing he always looked forward to—his time with you.

Despite his blindness, Jiaoqiu’s awareness of the world around him was incredibly sharp. He could hear the rustling of fabric as you settled into bed, the soft sigh of contentment as sleep overtook you. And yet, every single night, it was the same thing: you would somehow wriggle free of the covers, your nightgown tangled in the sheets, and end up in the farthest corner of the room, wrapped like a hotdog.

The first time it happened, Jiaoqiu had been lying awake, feeling your presence beside him. But then, as the hours passed, he felt the bed shift, heard the rustle of fabric moving with you. He held his breath, sensing the impending chaos.

By morning, he was greeted with the unmistakable sound of your movements, a tangled mess of blankets, your gown slipping from your body. He chuckled softly to himself, despite the slight frustration bubbling up. "What the hell...?" he muttered under his breath, though the slight amusement in his tone made it clear he wasn’t truly upset.

His fingers carefully reached out, brushing against the blanket that encased you like a cocoon. "You always end up like this, don’t you?" he asked with a knowing smile, though his voice was soft.

You stirred, blinking sleepily and letting out a small, apologetic laugh. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a wild sleeper…”

Jiaoqiu had long since memorized the sound of your voice and the little nuances of your actions. He carefully helped you untangle yourself from the blankets, his hands gentle as they guided you back into bed.

“Perhaps,” he began softly, his voice laced with a mix of affection and exhaustion, “we should find a way to keep you in the bed tonight.”

You smiled playfully, wrapping your arms around him, “Maybe, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Jiaoqiu let out a soft laugh, his fingers gently brushing your hair as he settled back into bed. "I’ll take that as a challenge."

Despite the chaos of your sleep, he couldn’t help but find comfort in the unpredictability. It was a reminder that, even in the wildest of times, he wasn’t truly alone.

[unboundprompts]

body language descriptions please?

(eg: she cocked her head)

thank you 💗💗💗

Body Language Descriptions

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Anxiety/Nervousness

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers tugging nervously at the fabric as she struggled to find the right words.

They bit their lower lip.

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze, a clear indication of his guilt.

She absentmindedly rubbed her neck.

He chewed his nails, a nervous habit that he couldn't seem to quit.

They rubbed their hands together nervously.

He tightened his jaw.

She felt beads of sweat forming on her brow, betraying her calm facade as her heart raced.

Frustration/Impatience

Their fists clenched at their sides.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table, a clear sign of impatience as he waited for her to finish.

He rolled his eyes, the gesture full of exasperation as he dismissed her words.

She let out a heavy sigh, the sound heavy with resignation as she faced the inevitable.

He threw his hands up in defeat.

Curiosity

He leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear more, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical as she questioned his intentions.

She tilted her head slightly.

He watched intently, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in every detail of her story.

Confidence/Assertiveness

He stood tall with his shoulders back, projecting confidence even in the face of uncertainty.

They sat on the edge of their seat.

She gestured wildly, her hands moving animatedly as she tried to express her excitement.

He stood with his hands on his hips, exuding an air of authority and control over the situation.

They held their chin up high, projecting self-assurance even in the face of adversity.

Defensiveness/Resignation

He crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive posture that spoke volumes about his discomfort.

He braced himself against the wall, a protective stance.

She folded her hands in her lap, a sign of restraint as she fought the urge to speak.

They shrank back slightly, their shoulders hunching as if trying to make themselves smaller in the face of criticism.

He held his breath momentarily, steeling himself for the inevitable conflict he sensed was coming.

She covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed by the situation as she tried to block out the world.

Thoughtfulness/Concentration

She furrowed her brow in concentration, her mind clearly racing as she tried to solve the problem at hand.

She nodded slowly, processing the information, her expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He stared blankly into space, lost in thought as he processed what had just been revealed.

He drummed his fingers on the table, the rhythmic sound a sign of his deep contemplation.

She tapped her foot lightly, her mind racing.

Eagerness/Excitement

He paced back and forth, his restless energy manifesting in the constant movement as he considered his options.

She bent forward, her elbows resting on her knees, a sign of intimacy and engagement in the conversation.

She swayed slightly from side to side, a subconscious display of her nervous energy as she waited for the verdict.

He bounced on his toes, his excitement palpable.

She jumped up and down, a spontaneous display of her joy that couldn’t be contained.

[foolinafable]

family matters

Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Synopsis: You and Five return after seven years away in a different timeline- but you don’t return alone Word Count: 1.8k Tags: Fluff, No Lila and Five, Pregnancy, Children, Season 4 fix it (kinda) Note: Got so much love on the last one I wrote this! Try to ignore spelling mistakes it's currently 3am.

Stuck with only your irritable CIA colleague Five Hargreeves was anything but a good time. You both got lost at the godforsaken subway station he mistakenly teleported you both to. Travelling for a year by his side certainly mellowed you out. His personality slowly making you feel comforted as you both explored multiple timelines together trying to find your way home.

Surprisingly, the idea he possessed powers was the easiest thing for you to come to terms with, probably due to your job at the CIA making it seem plausible to you that the government does hide a lot- they’re even hiding the whole science of separate timelines.  After around a year of trying and failing to find your way home, you and Five decided to ease off the vigorous schedule you unwittingly created, finding a timeline safe enough to stay in for a while allowing you both to rest and brainstorm ideas of how you could both find a way home to your families. 

You both made a mistake. Falling to know how long a while would be you find yourselves still in the timeline you chose as your ‘temporary’ home six years later. Finding each other a lot less frustrating than at the start of this. You suppose that’s an understatement as you watched Five play with your child, a girl who possessed brown hair and green eyes not too dissimilar to her father’s. It almost wasn’t fair how much her features favoured his. But, seeing his beauty reflected upon her features could never be something you would complain about. 

“Maybe if we get lucky the next one will resemble you more,” you remember his words from a few days earlier when you started to show a hand placed under your abdomen smiling as if this was the greatest gift he could ever receive. But you don’t think it would matter if this one ended up looking like their older sibling and their father. If anything you would prefer it- not that you would ever admit it.

Picking another fresh strawberry from the greenhouse of the abandoned home you now called your own. You placed it into the basket plans to make jam and jelly already filling your mind when you felt yourself begin to flush from the sweltering heat of the sun beating down upon the glass. Your skin heating up to a point of large discomfort, sweat beginning to gather at your temples. You sighed knowing that you couldn't continue to harvest anything else unless you wanted to face Five’s rath over you overheating again. 

“Mom!” Maxine ran towards you eagerly hands encircling your legs as she got close enough for a welcoming hug. She quickly looked up towards you big green eyes staring at you prettily 

“Hiya munchkin” You stroked the top of her hair as she smiled up at you with glee

“What doing?” the three-year-old questioned head titling as she waited for your response 

“Strawberries” was all you replied grabbing the basket to show her 

“Have one?” she asked pointing at the basket, batting her eyes to try to sway your decision. You simply plucked one out of the basket and gave it to her relishing in the delighted smile she sent your way before biting into the sweet fruit. You smiled at her before looking up to meet the other pair of green eyes that had made their way into the greenhouse. Five watched the interaction of his favourite girls softly only moving closer once you looked at him.

“Everything alright mumma?” he questioned noticing your flustered expression from the moment he and Maxine stepped foot in the conservatory

“A bit hot” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders as he drew closer, trapping Maxine in between the two of you as the back of his hand touched your forehead he hummed in agreement with your words

“Let’s get you inside the house, don’t need you getting heatstroke” You forced down the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics and simply nodded in agreement

“Some cold water and a sit down would be nice.”

He grabbed one of your hands and Maxine’s with the other leading you both back towards the house. After placing the basket of strawberries in the kitchen you quickly sat down on the couch feeling a slight ache in your feet while Five grabbed you a glass of water with more icecubes than you could even count, you smiled in thanks as he passed it to you while Maxine sat next to you, a small children book in hands that she was determined to read to you and her younger sibling as she wanted them to be just as smart as her. 

You could hear Five pattering around the house, tidying up before you could even think about it. Maxine had quickly given up on trying to read, getting bored after two pages and was instead sitting playing with some wooden blocks by your feet. You furrowed your eyebrows when you couldn’t hear Five moving around anymore a stark silence surrounding you now.

“Everything alright?” you shouted trying to figure out where he had gotten to, heart fluttering when there was no reply. Setting your glass down on the table in front of you as you rose from your rather comfortable spot on the couch, you walked into the other room where your lover was his body was stick straight, eyes not daring to leave the notebook in his hand. “What?” you questioned softly walking towards him, eyeing the words on the book as you got close enough.

“This” he began astounded “Is our way home, it’s written by me but I didn’t write this. Another me did.” you simply nodded before smiling  

“Looks like we’re going home.”

── ✧

You and Five found yourselves outside of what he assured you was his brother Diego’s house. Maxine who was resting her head on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his middle looked astounded by the snow while nerves filled you- the last time you saw any of his family was when you were put on the case that got you lost in the timelines to begin with and even then you barely saw his brothers and sister-in-law as they were quickly taken to hq for a show round to get them out of the way. You didn’t even want to think how you would explain this to them let alone to your own family but you guess this is the easier of the two as they all had powers and also been to multiple different timelines. Five set Maxine down next to you as he rapped on the door you quickly grabbed her hand before she could run off into the snow when the door opened 

“You back!” the man, Diego you assumed, smiled as he looked at Five 

“I am” he stared at his brother almost in shock that he had seen him for the first time for him in seven years

“Good” the man confirmed “We were all starting to get worried.” his eyes then turned towards you and the brunette-haired little girl who was trying to hide behind you “And you are?” he questioned and you quickly gave him your name his eyes sparking in recognition for some reason as he crouched to the ground to greet your daughter “And who is this little princess?” he asked quietly as Maxine started at him 

“This is Maxine” is all you said feeling Five’s eyes on you knowing he wanted to wait until you got inside to drop the bomb you could see Diego begin to connect the dots as he introduced himself to you but he was clearly confused because he would know if Five had a child in the last three years in this timeline at least.

“I will explain everything once we get inside- can’t let the missus get cold” is all he said to Diego as the man allowed you into his home. 

He quickly led you to the living room where to sat on the sofa, Maxine being picked up by Five and placed on his lap when she tried to climb onto yours, you turned towards him to complain but quickly stopped when you met his glower instead choosing to put a comforting hand on your tummy a habit you kept from your first pregnancy. Diego called for his wife Lila to come to sit with him when the door opened revealing more of Five’s family he whispered their names to you as they walked in all choosing to sit down when Diego told them that Five was going to explain where he’s been and why his colleague, a word you hadn’t been referred to as in a long time, was here. With most of his family here excluding Ben and Viktor, he cleared his throat to get their attention

“As you all know the marigold has made our powers a little different to what we are used to” They all made sounds of agreement “My blinking takes only to a tube station where each stop is a new timeline and we” gesturing to you “got stuck, unable to find our way back until now. We were away for seven years but for you has only been a few hours” he took their silence as a sign to continue “This is my wife” he spoke your name “And our daughter Maxine.” you sat in silence for a moment.

“Wait! This is the colleague he was always telling us about?” Luther asked excitedly you turned to the larger man confused when Klaus and Allison quickly agreed with him

“I thought he was joking when he said there was a cute girl who he worked cases with” Claire, Alison’s daughter, announced making her mother and uncles laugh

“I can’t believe you have a child” Lila spoke eyes wide

“Well he is going to have another one in a couple of months,” you told the already shocked woman who quickly smiled at the revelation while the others called out congratulations to their brother 

“How far along are you?” Allison asked as she came up to you silently questioning if she could touch the small bump you simply nodded “We think around thirteen weeks” looking to Five who simply nodded

“She only started showing a few days ago”

“I can’t believe it” Luther called out while pulling funny faces making Maxine laugh as she got a little less shy around her family.

You smiled as you watched Maxine get up and walk towards Lilas’ children playing with them as Five’s hand found its way to yours stroking your knuckles. You never thought you could ever get home let alone come back home happier than you had left it. You suppose a thanks was due to your rather irritable husband and his wacky powers.

[dunmesh]

okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.

and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.

i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?

and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.

and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.

so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?

but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.

it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[samimarkart]

One Year

2025, block prints on hand dyed cotton

i finally wrapped up this year long project. i started HRT on december 8th, 2023. i went into it initially scared to death of needles and the concept of self injection. I decided to carve a stamp of my testosterone vial, and add a stamp to fabric after every shot as a sort of gold star “good job!” achievement. after a month, the fear was gone but i continued stamping. this quilt shows the number of shots I took across a 1 year period.

quilting always speaks to me as a trans person. a needle bringing together layers upon layers of fabric, making something new out of something preexisting, the slight discomfort of a finger prick (ow!) that’s easily forgotten when you stand back and see the repetition of stitches has made something you’re excited to see. my art quilts are usually about nature, but I always see myself in them :)

this quilt was initially conceptualized for a way for me to express pain and frustration with the healthcare system, with a physician who had promised me access to HRT when I was ready, only to massively walk her knowledge back when I was ready to start the process. hurtling through what seemed like an endless cycle of referrals, insurance calls, years long waitlists, medication backorders and more, i initially planned on stamping a vial for every week i missed a shot in frustration. i am glad i finally gained access to the miracle that is HRT, but at the same time I feel immense sadness, pain, and fear, both personally and for the rest of the trans community who are unsure of what our access to this miracle will look like in the near future.

i am holding tight to my trans siblings right now. i love you!

[konigsblog]

TW: NON-CON, SOMNOPHILIA, AFAB!F!READER. 18+

Somnophilia with König (🌽 link)

König is a man with needs. He can't go without your sweet, loveable cunt for longer than a day otherwise he's left sexually frustrated and pent up. Your adorable pussy is a coping mechanism for his frustrations and trauma, an outlet for his pleasure, anger, and sadness.

You looked tempting while asleep in bed. König admired the relaxed and calm expression on your face, what he was about to disturb due to his own selfishness. He unfastened his belt slowly, rubbing the your glistening cunt in small circles. You were a fool to fall asleep naked in bed knowing how horny he becomes at the sight of you. it seems that you haven't learnt from your mistake, Engel. He couldn't help himself, he just hopes that you'll understand his desires.

Each thrust feels heavenly. König is left in a state of delirium and confusion as he ruts into your drooling pussy. His fingers grip your hair tightly and angle your face so that he can watch out for discomfort, towering above your bent over figure while carefully watching your facial expressions. He grits his teeth at the tightness of your pulsing walls, cursing himself for being so cruel. “I’m so sorry, Mäuschen. You know I can’t help myself, I’m a pervert” Guilt washes over König who lowers his head in shame as he ploughs his swollen cock into your folds selfishly, too depraved to stop himself.

You're tighter when you're sleeping, it's something he's noticed. You're unaware of how often this happens, how repetitive it is for König. He can't seem to pull out as he continues, growing addicted to the gummy feeling of your insides and the warm slick coat left dripping for his aching dick.

“You’re so adorable, little mouse. Your body knows that it belongs to me, even when you’re asleep.”

[alsofoundinpeas]

No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)

Summary: After JJ's insensitive remarks toward Spencer become too much to ignore, Y/N steps in to comfort him, igniting a friendship that rapidly grows into something more. Though Y/N falls for him first, Spencer soon finds himself falling even harder, realizing no one has ever cared for him the way she does—and he's ready to return it in full.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Oral/Facesitting (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), masturbating (m!only), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex/PinV sex (wrap it before you tap it lovelies pls), c** swallowing (I don't know how else to put that HAHAHA), slight overstim (for both parties), slightly ooc!JJ (for the plot), one brief argument scene between the reader and JJ. Fluff and smut. Coworkers to friends to lovers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader

A/N: I love a little "she fell first, he fell harder" trope, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I am once again pleading my case that I am NOT a JJ hater!! I just saw a clip of this scene from season 3 and was inspired because I too have been in Spencer's shoes and honestly it hurts, so I wanted to change up the outcome a little bit. The title comes from Taylor Swift's "So High School" but the fic isn't necessarily based around the song if that makes sense. As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Y/N had never been particularly fond of JJ. They worked well together, of course—professionalism came first—but there was something about JJ that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt so high school to say, but Y/N had always seen her as a bit of a "mean girl."

Y/N had joined the BAU a year after Spencer, and she’d witnessed firsthand the awkwardness when Spencer, shy and eager, had asked JJ to go to a football game with him as a date after Gideon had given him tickets. A sweet, innocent gesture, only for JJ to show up with Penelope in tow, turning the evening into a humiliating disaster for Spencer. That was just one of the many moments Y/N had found herself bristling at JJ's treatment of him. Despite JJ’s consistent indifference and occasional cruelty, Spencer’s feelings for her had never wavered. 

Until today.

Spencer sat across from JJ on the jet, eager to share his excitement about the book he was reading and its similarities with Pinocchio, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he rambled on. He barely noticed the lack of interest in JJ's eyes, her eyebrows raised in a near-sarcastic expression as she muttered a disinterested "Wow" in the middle of his sentence. She tossed the case file onto the table without a second glance and stood. "Interesting. Coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, her smile a brittle, saccharine mask. 

Spencer froze, his words dying in his throat as she swiftly walked away. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest—an awkward mix of humiliation and disappointment. Was he that annoying? His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the book in his lap, the pages now feeling heavier than they had moments ago. He cleared his throat, but the discomfort lingered, thick in the air.

Y/N had been watching the whole exchange from her spot on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watched JJ throw her head back in a loud laugh at something Morgan had said about “escaping the robot” from across the jet. That was the breaking point. Y/N's stomach twisted with frustration. She was tired—so tired—of watching JJ repeatedly gut the sweet boy simply because he had a hopeless crush on her, one that JJ clearly saw as beneath her.  

Swinging her legs from where they were tucked underneath her, Y/N stood and made her way to the seat JJ had previously been occupying, sliding into it abruptly.

Spencer’s head jerked up as she quickly filled the seat, blinking hard as confusion washed over his features. “Oh! Uh, hey Y/N… was there something you needed?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping back to the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wounded look in his eyes.

“I was listening to your conversation earlier and wanted to ask if you would continue. Please.”

Spencer’s mouth parted in surprise, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. She… wanted to listen to him? He swallowed, his brows furrowing slightly as he hesitated before speaking. “You... you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better, you know.”

Y/N shook her head firmly, her hands coming together on the table as she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Spencer,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’m not asking you to continue because I feel sorry for you. I’m asking because I actually want to hear what you have to say.” Her tone was gentle yet sincere, and there was no mistaking the genuine interest in her words.

Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at her, his mind struggling to catch up with the moment before he finally opened his mouth, stumbling over the words to continue his excited rant from earlier. Spencer felt something shift inside him with every hum of acknowledgment, nod, and occasional question or light joke. It hit him all at once—this was how she always spoke to him: fully engaged, genuinely curious. She didn’t see him as the genius or the outcast. She saw him as... just Spencer. A person. Not a curiosity. Not a burden. Just him.

And for the rest of the flight, Y/N encouraged Spencer to spill every single thought that came to mind, entranced by the sweet boy in front of her for the entire time.

It was late when they finally landed, the team worn out and eager to get home. With quick goodbyes and Hotch’s promise of a day off tomorrow, the group trickled out of the office, one by one. When Spencer was left alone in the bullpen, he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat at his desk under the guise of needing to look for something before leaving. His thoughts kept drifting back to the interaction with Y/N on the jet. He couldn’t shake it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.

It wasn’t like they weren’t already friends—talking to her was nothing out of the ordinary. But something about their interaction today felt different. Maybe it was how quickly she’d stepped in when she saw he was hurt? Then again, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t all that unusual either. He’d often felt out of place—whether it was the team’s teasing that sometimes went too far, JJ’s backhanded compliments that left him more bewildered than flattered, or the officers who looked past him because of his age or appearance.

And every time, without fail, Y/N had been there. She was always the one picking up the pieces of his bruised confidence, offering him quiet support with nothing more than a kind word or a warm smile, never asking for anything in return.

“Spencer?” 

Spencer jumped, the unexpected voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He spun around in his seat, heart racing, to find Y/N standing there, her hands raised in a placating gesture. He’d thought she’d already left with the rest of the team, but apparently, he’d been wrong.  

“Whoa, take it easy—it's just me. Are you okay?” Y/N approached slowly, her expression softening with concern as Spencer took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Uh, yeah! I-I’m fine,” Spencer stammered, wincing as his voice cracked. “I just… I thought everyone had already left.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said with a chuckle, flashing a sheepish grin. “I told Hotch I’d drop everything off in evidence before heading out, but I kind of took my time.” She shrugged, then glanced at him. “What about you? Why are you still here?”

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he thought about her question. What was he still doing here, other than overthinking a simple conversation on the jet? He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk. “I thought I left a certain book here, but... it turns out it’s actually at home.” The weak excuse was followed by a nervous laugh as Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, silently hoping she wouldn’t question him further. 

It seemed luck was on his side, as she nodded slowly—her disbelief clear, but deciding not to press. Instead, she offered a soft smile and tilted her head toward the elevator. “Well, if you're heading out now, would you like to walk with me to my car?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of hope. “I can give you a ride so you don’t have to take the metro so late.”

Spencer was momentarily surprised by the offer, but before he could overanalyze it, he found himself nodding. She’d offered him rides before, and he’d always turned her down, worried he’d be inconveniencing her or that she was just being polite. But tonight, after the grueling case, he felt too drained to talk himself out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t opposed to spending a little more time with her—just the two of them.

“Um… that would be really nice, actually. Thank you.” 

Y/N waved it off with a playful grin. “It’s really no big deal, Spencer. I honestly wish you'd take me up on it more often. I worry about you on those late trains, and I live just five minutes from you. It’d be nice to have some company on the way home.” 

They continued their light conversation the entire way to the parking garage, pausing only when they got to her car. Y/N fumbled with her keys, unlocking the doors quickly before they slid inside.

The first thing Spencer noticed was the sweet fragrance of her perfume, filling the small space around them. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he found himself trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, captivated by the scent and wanting more of it. The smell of her shampoo blended with the fragrance, intensifying as she turned her head to back out of her parking spot. Spencer hadn’t even realized the car had started until that moment.

The next thing he noticed was the sticker on her dash reading Amor Fati. A faint smile curled at his lips as he shifted his gaze to her. He watched her silently for a moment as she focused on the road.

“Lover of fate, huh?”

“Hm?” Y/N frowned in confusion, shooting him a quick sideways glance as she stopped at a red light. It took a moment before she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah. What about it, doc?” She chuckled, her voice light and teasing.

Spencer hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, nothing… But, did you know that Friedrich Nietzsche built most of his philosophy around that phrase?”

They plunged into a lively conversation, exchanging thoughts on various philosophers and their personal interpretations of the phrase. Spencer was captivated. The only other person who had ever indulged him in such “nerdy” discussions was Penelope (mostly about Doctor Who, of course). It was oddly refreshing, but at the same time, it only added fuel to the fire of his overthinking.

What was it that kept him so hopelessly fixated on JJ? She could be a good friend at times—he wouldn’t deny that—but there were moments when he felt like nothing more than a charity case. Like that kid who clings to someone at school, oblivious to the fact that they don’t actually want to talk to them. She was beautiful, of course—anyone could see that. But they didn’t share much in common, and their hobbies barely aligned. So why did he always end up seeking her out, when there were so many other people he could spend time with?

After the incident on the jet, Spencer had made a decision. He was done pouring so much energy into the blonde liaison and instead would focus on building a genuine friendship with Y/N. Not just the casual co-worker relationship they had, but something real. Maybe that’s why her sudden attention on the jet had caught him off guard. Maybe it wasn’t a crush forming, but rather a deep-rooted loneliness, a subconscious desire for a true friend. That had to be it.

The drive to his apartment seemed to fly by, and as Spencer stepped out of the car, he was surprised by the sense of reluctance that settled over him. He murmured his thanks and goodnight to Y/N, offering a shy smile, his thoughts lingering on the brief but unexpected moment of connection.

"Hey, Spencer?" Y/N called just as he was about to close the door. He paused, and she went on, her tone genuine. "I meant what I said. If you ever want to skip the metro and ride with me instead, I’d love the company. Honestly, I enjoyed our drive so much more than the usual Top 40 hits on the radio."

Spencer’s smile grew, a hesitant nod accompanying the soft bite of his lower lip. This was the opportunity to build something real with her, and for once, he decided not to second-guess it. “I’d really like that, actually.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, a blend of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her. A smile spread across her face as she let out a soft breath. "Great. I’m looking forward to it," she said, her voice warm. "Goodnight, Spencer. Enjoy your day off tomorrow."

The first week of Spencer’s newfound behavior had Y/N feeling… disoriented, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. She was genuinely thrilled by the extra attention, but she couldn’t quite figure out what had caused the sudden shift in their dynamic.

Spencer had begun riding home with her after work, both of them quickly growing fond of the newfound companionship. Throughout the day, he found himself gravitating toward her desk more often, offering to help with paperwork or providing a second opinion when she second guessed something. As they spent more time together, their conversations became easier—what had started as awkward exchanges soon evolved into Spencer initiating talks, no longer waiting for her to take the lead.

The irritated huff that escaped JJ’s lips as she stormed past everyone and into her office after Spencer politely declined her offer to sit with her and sort through case files, made it clear—Y/N wasn’t the only one noticing the change.

The next notable shift came when the BAU was called to California for a case. As everyone filed onto the jet and took their usual seats, there was one exception: Spencer Reid. When Y/N settled onto the couch, she was greeted by a soft, uncertain voice.

“Can I join you?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously tugging at the end of his cardigan sleeves as he blinked at her with those sweet, vulnerable brown eyes.

The entire team glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by Spencer's decision not to take his usual spot across from JJ. Y/N, both puzzled and pleased, quickly moved to make space, patting the seat beside her with an encouraging smile.

"Of course, Spence. Go right ahead."

Spencer let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders drooping in relief as he settled into the seat next to Y/N, the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying easing from his body. Ignoring the gawking from the others, he leaned in slightly, feeling more at ease in her presence. As Y/N opened the case file, he glanced at her with a small smile, ready to dive into the work with her by his side.

Morgan chuckled from across the jet, looking at JJ with raised brows as she scoffed to herself. "What'd you do to piss off the kid?"

“I didn’t do anything! And when did she start calling him ‘Spence’?” JJ grumbled, her arms crossed defensively as she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

“Whoa,” Morgan muttered, his smile dropping into a frown. “Didn’t realize I was hitting a sore spot. What’s it matter what she calls him, anyway?”

JJ stiffened, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to respond. Morgan was right—she wasn’t the only one who could give Spencer a nickname. But that was her name for him, and it stung a little more now, given the distance that had been growing between them.

"It’s nothing," JJ replied quickly, forcing a casual shrug. "I was just surprised, that’s all." But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest, unsure why it bothered her so much.

The remainder of the flight was spent with the team discussing the case, Hotch assigning tasks for when they touched down. Once they had gone over everything they could, the conversation tapered off, and silence settled over the cabin. Each team member retreated into their own thoughts, but Y/N and Spencer remained deep in discussion, quietly exchanging ideas about the unsub.

As they leaned in to continue their conversation, they unknowingly inched closer, drawn together by the ease of their shared focus. And when Spencer felt Y/N's knee brush against his, he kept his leg still, savoring the contact in silence—his secret to keep.

It took Spencer just over two months to finally gather the courage to ask Y/N to hang out outside of work or their shared car rides—something he had started contributing to so he could get more comfortable with driving. She’d quickly climbed the ranks of people he favored and felt comfortable with, but the fear of rejection still held him back. He didn’t want to jeopardize the connection they’d built, especially when it felt so important to him.

Spencer’s fear dissolved when he asked Y/N to come over and watch a film he’d picked up at an antique shop. Her excited smile and enthusiastic "Duh, I'd love to!" made him realize that she’d likely been waiting for him to take the first step all along.

He was grateful for how Y/N allowed him to move at his own pace, understanding that his accelerated path through high school and college had made it difficult for him to form connections. She never rushed him, giving him the space to open up when he was ready and letting their relationship develop naturally.

Y/N arrived at Spencer’s apartment, her arms loaded with snacks and dressed in cozy clothes, her excitement palpable. She enjoyed their car rides, of course, but an hour together hardly seemed enough compared to the time she truly longed to spend with him.

Y/N had been captivated by Spencer for years, but the more time they spent together, the harder her heart beat for him—every smile, every laugh, every conversation only added to her growing feelings. She told herself she was content with just being friends, that having him in her life, even in the smallest way, was enough. But deep down, she knew the truth—her heart yearned for something more, something that seemed just out of reach.

"Y/N! Hi, welcome in!"

The door swung open to reveal Spencer, his grin wide with excitement as he motioned for her to step inside. The sight of him—beaming with an almost childlike enthusiasm—made her smile in return. His apartment matched her expectations in the best way possible: shelves overflowing with books and quirky knick-knacks, soft, ambient light spilling from lamps that cast a cozy glow across the room, and a desk strewn with an organized mess of case files and open journals. It was a perfect reflection of Spencer—intellectually chaotic, but with an undeniable charm and warmth.

Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room, and for a moment, he lost track of everything around him. He had always seen her dressed up for work—polished, professional, a perfect image of control. But now, in her casual clothes, with her hair down and no hint of the usual makeup, she looked entirely different.

She was still stunning, but it was a softer kind of beauty, one that crept up on him and left him breathless before he even realized it. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first glance, but once he took her in, he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away. Spencer had always thought he knew Y/N, but this version of her… this version felt like a secret he wasn’t ready to discover yet.

"Where would you like these?" Y/N asked, lifting her arms up with the snacks.

The sound of her voice broke Spencer from his daze, and he quickly moved to help, grabbing a few items to set them down on the coffee table. "Oh, uh, you didn’t have to bring snacks," he stammered, his hands fumbling with the food as he awkwardly rearranged it. "I was just going to order takeout or something. You’re the guest," he added, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. His mind was racing, still caught in the subtle sweetness of her perfume that lingered in the air as he leaned in to grab the bags, making it hard to focus.

Y/N shrugged, a small grin playing on her lips as she set the snacks down. "I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And if you’re still craving takeout later, I won't stop you from ordering it. Sound good?"

He nodded, his nose twitching as he grinned, feeling his tension ease. It was just Y/N, he reminded himself. There was no reason to feel this flustered.

An hour later, with the movie playing and a bag of gummy bears between them, Spencer quickly realized he'd been wrong. He had plenty of reasons to feel flustered.

The film, which had subtitles, was riddled with translation errors. Each time a jumbled sentence appeared, Y/N would lean in close, her breath warm against his ear causing shivers up and down his spine as she whispered, "What does that one mean?" Her thigh brushed against his, neither of them making any effort to break the contact. Spencer felt an almost electric warmth spread through him from the slight touch, his body aching for more. Was he really that starved for affection?

That night seemed to crack something deep inside him, like a dam giving way to a flood of longing for touch.

Spencer—who had always been wary of physical contact—now found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Every time they handed each other papers or worked on case files together, he’d make sure their fingers brushed. As he passed by her desk, he’d let his fingers trace along her shoulder blades, offering her a quiet smile that she always returned. After particularly exhausting days, he’d seek her out, leaning into her embrace, letting her arms offer him comfort and grounding. And during their hangouts, Spencer no longer hesitated to inch closer, letting his side press against hers, or allowing her to stretch her legs over his lap. The proximity felt natural, and he couldn’t help but crave it more.

It only got worse as time went on. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It wasn't just casual touches anymore—it was almost as if every opportunity to be near her was a chance to close the distance between them. Y/N couldn't get enough of it. And the team? They definitely noticed. JJ, in particular, seemed to pick up on it right away.

JJ had attempted to confront Spencer about his growing closeness with Y/N before, but each time, he waved her off, insisting that he and Y/N had simply discovered they had more in common than he'd realized and that he just wanted to be her friend. JJ wasn’t convinced—not for a second. It was obvious to her that Spencer was falling for Y/N, and for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it left a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t that she harbored romantic feelings for him, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed being the one to receive it.

The tension finally boiled over when the team was dispatched to a case in Oregon.

It had been six months since the incident on the jet, and Y/N and Spencer had become almost inseparable. Garcia and Morgan, delighted by their closeness, often teased them and playfully begged them to just admit they were dating—though both vehemently insisted that their relationship was purely platonic. Rossi and Emily often exchanged knowing looks on the jet, with Emily even going so far as to snap a picture of Y/N and Spencer sleeping on the couch after a case—a cute picture featuring Spencer’s head resting on Y/N’s and her face tucked into his shoulder as they peacefully dozed together. Even Hotch seemed to approve, having reviewed the Bureau’s internal fraternization policies just in case Strauss raised an issue. The only person who didn’t seem thrilled about it was JJ.

Two days in Oregon, and the team was already facing an uphill battle. They’d been working non-stop to build a profile for the unsub, but so far, nothing had gone right. There were no witnesses who could provide a description, a local officer had already compromised key evidence from the first crime scene, and the victims seemed to have no clear link to one another. Frustration was mounting for everyone, but for JJ it was mounting for an entirely separate reason.

Spencer had been managing his frustration through subtle touches with Y/N—brief brushes of his hand against her lower back as he passed, pressing his head into her shoulder with a frustrated groan after combing through their limited information for hours... But the moment that pushed JJ to her breaking point was when Spencer, noticing an officer staring at Y/N, pulled her possessively into him, his hand firmly gripping her waist until that officer left the room.

"Y/N?"

JJ's voice was tight as she stepped into the conference room the local officers had set up for the BAU to use during their case, spotting Y/N standing in front of the pinned-up map of the area as she studied the locations where the victims had been found. Spencer had just left, going to start more coffee for them since they were running low. The rest of the team was out in the field, reinvestigating the crime scenes for anything that may have been missed initially.

Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing as JJ closed the door. They weren’t close on a personal level, and Y/N couldn’t think of any reason, related to the case or otherwise, for JJ to want to speak with her alone.

"...Yes?"

JJ lingered near the end of the table, her arms crossed across her chest as she leveled Y/N with a look that immediately had her on edge. "I’m not trying to pry, but as his best friend, I have to ask… what’s going on between you and Spencer?" Her face was twisted in a scowl, her head tilting as she waited for a response.

Y/N's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline at that, a scoffed laugh leaving her lips before she could stop it. His best friend. Was she serious?

"Excuse me?"

"What's going on with you and Spencer?" JJ repeated, her voice deliberate. "Everyone’s noticed how he’s been acting—the constant touching, for one, is a bit much, don’t you think? He never wants to hang out with me anymore. It’s like he's all about you now. So, are you two seeing each other or what?"

Y/N turned to face JJ fully, her lips tightening into a thin line as she took a steadying breath. Her audacity was astounding, truly. The last thing she wanted today was to argue with this fucking—

"That's hilarious, Jennifer. Really," Y/N chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—Spencer is an adult who can make his own decisions? I’m not the reason he doesn't want to spend time with you."

JJ stiffened at the mention of her name, scoffing in response. "Oh, clearly you have something to do with it. Before you started driving him home, he followed me around like a lost puppy. Now he barely even wants to be around me!"

That struck a nerve in Y/N, like a live wire finally sparked to life. A lost puppy? Was that truly how little she thought of him? Y/N's head tilted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone as she spoke again.

"Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He's not your fucking pet, Jennifer!"

Her voice was menacing as she stepped forward, grim satisfaction coursing through her as JJ stumbled backward.

"Spencer is a brilliant, capable man who’s never deserved the way you or anyone else have made him feel less than that. We’re not dating. But if we were, I wouldn’t be ashamed of him. Unlike you, who found the idea of a man like him adoring you repulsive instead of seeing it for the gift it was. Spencer Reid is a fucking treasure, and it’s entirely your fault you never realized how lucky you were to have his attention."

Y/N's face was flushed red with anger, her chest heaving as she seethed.

"So again, I have nothing to do with him not wanting to spend time with you anymore. Maybe he finally realized that you're just not as great of a person as you pretend to be."

Rather than waiting for the teary-eyed, speechless blonde to reply, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, heading out to take an early lunch. But as she swung the door open, she was met with Spencer standing right there, and before she could react, she collided with his chest. His hands immediately flew to her waist, steadying her as she looked up sheepishly.

"Shit! I’m sorry, Spence," Y/N muttered, still fuming from her conversation with JJ. Her face turned even redder when she realized he might have heard some of it, but she didn’t regret a word of what she’d said.

He hadn't just heard some of it... He'd heard all of it. When he’d left earlier, he’d turned back, intending to ask if she wanted to take a break from the map. Instead, he had been met with the sight of JJ closing the door, and he curiously (shamefully) pressed up against it to know what was going on.

Admittedly, it stung to hear JJ talk about him like that, even though he already knew she'd taken advantage of his past crush on her. But Y/N's words and how she defended him hit him harder than expected. It became clear in that instant—no one had ever been there for him the way she always had been, and somewhere along the way, he'd fallen deeply in love with her.

"Hey, hey, it’s alright," Spencer said quietly, his hands smoothing over her waist before resting gently on her shoulders. "Go take your lunch. You’ve earned a break. I’ll keep working on the geographical profile until you return."

Y/N offered a weary but grateful smile before walking away, leaving Spencer alone to process the revelation weighing on him.

That night, Spencer paced his hotel room, caught between waiting until they were home to tell Y/N how he felt or just saying it now. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner, for convincing himself his feelings for her were purely platonic. But now that he knew, it consumed him. He wanted to shout it to the heavens, to tell the world he was in love with her.

Spencer knew what he had to do. He realized that confessing his feelings in the middle of a case wasn’t ideal, but the thought of waiting any longer to let her know how much she meant to him was unbearable. That’s why, before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself standing outside her door at midnight, knocking softly.

"Spence? You okay?"

Her sleepy voice tugged at his heart as she opened the door, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. She smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. The room was cloaked in darkness, but the moonlight spilling through the curtains illuminated the crumpled sheets, evidence of her restless sleep.

His heart hammered in his chest as he breathed in unsteadily, lowering himself onto the edge of her bed. She crawled back to the middle, flicking on the bedside lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow between them. His courage started to falter, but the gentle concern in her eyes anchored him. He remembered why he was here—because with her, he felt safe enough to face this, no matter how vulnerable he felt.

"Y/N, I—" Spencer began, his voice catching for a moment, but he continued anyway. "I heard what happened with JJ earlier, and it made me realize something I should’ve recognized a long time ago. I was so caught up in denial that it didn’t hit me until now. And I’m so sorry for that…"

Oh, fuck. He was starting to ramble. This isn't how he wanted this to go at all—

"Y/N... I'm in love with you. I am so, so in love with you that it aches. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the way you look, though I could spend hours talking about how stunning you are. It’s who you are, the goodness that radiates from you. You make me want to be better, to wake up every day and try to be at least half the person you are. You care for everyone around you like it’s your purpose, and I want to be the one who takes care of you for once because you truly deserve that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. But I just—I needed you to know."

Y/N’s jaw dropped as Spencer’s confession filled the air, her eyes welling with tears as the words she had longed for spilled from him. She moved swiftly, sitting up from the pillows and crawling toward him, a tear dripping down her cheek as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I love you too, Spencer Reid," she breathed, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you with everything I am."

Spencer’s lungs burned as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He returned her watery smile, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. Carefully, he cupped her face, his thumb following the line of her cheeks, his eyes filled with a quiet mix of wonder and adoration.

“Can I kiss you? Please?”

Her lips were on his the second he uttered the last syllable.

The kiss was both gentle and intense, their lips meeting with a deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment of crossing the line from friendship into something more. There was a hunger beneath the tenderness, an unspoken yearning finally being released. Their lips parted for only a second, allowing them to suck in a quick breath before they were back on each other. Each kiss was a quiet revelation, better than they had ever dreamed.

What started as an innocent declaration of their feelings for each other quickly evolved into something more ravenous as Spencer’s tongue prodded at the seam of her lips. The soft exhale Y/N released as their tongues brushed together had Spencer groaning, one of his hands sliding to cradle the back of her head as he savored the taste of her and the feeling of her lips against his. His other hand gingerly slid down her body, settling on her hip as he leaned forward, guiding her to rest against the pillows.

Y/N’s thighs parted eagerly to make room for him between them, her hands lacing through his hair as she tugged him impossibly closer. His elbows dug into the mattress beside her body as he hovered above her, swallowing the moan that slipped from her lips when their hips pressed together. He chased her lips when she tipped her head back, kissing her with an intensity that made her dizzy and had her whining into his mouth.

"I-I want— Spence, please—"

Y/N pleaded as his lips trailed down the side of her neck to suck a mark into her collarbone, though she wasn't even sure what she was begging for. She just knew she needed him. Her body felt like it was aflame, ignited by the spark that was Spencer's tongue soothing the possessive bruise now blooming across her skin. She needed him so desperately that her mind became a blur, consumed by an endless craving, unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming desire for more—more of him, more of this, more of everything he offered.

The thin fabric of their pajamas did little to conceal the feeling of his stiff cock grinding against her in subtle rocks of his hips as his hands began to roam her body, only adding to the overwhelming need she felt coursing through her. Spencer hushed her with a gentle peck, his lips lingering against hers for a brief, sweet moment before he moved to kiss her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. With each gentle kiss, she couldn't help but giggle softly, her laughter melting into the space between them.

"I know, pretty girl. You're already so worked up and all I've done is kiss you," he cooed, the words taking her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. A wet patch had started seeping through the cotton of her pants, something his fingers had taken an interest in as he began to lightly skim up and down her clit with his knuckles over the damp fabric. "No one ever takes care of you, do they, baby? Let me be the one to take care of you, Y/N. Please?" He paused, gently lifting her chin so he could meet her gaze.

Spencer’s words quieted the storm raging inside her, and she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a strong desire to let go, to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. To finally surrender and let someone take care of her. So she did exactly that.

"Yes. God, yes. Please, Spencer," Y/N whispered, her eyes searching his, full of need and trust.

It was as if a switch flipped the moment Spencer got the confirmation he needed.

His lips were back on hers in an instant, devouring her as though she'd melt away if he stopped touching her for even a second. He rolled them over, breaking the kiss to glide his hands underneath the rumpled t-shirt Y/N had on for bed and lifting it over her head in one swift motion. Ignoring her soft squeal of surprise, he brought his hands down to her hips, massaging the skin there before sliding his hands under the waistband of her pajama pants to grip her ass.

"Look at you… You're nothing short of incredible. Absolutely breathtaking," Spencer murmured, staring up at her in awe. The soft brown of his eyes had faded, overtaken by the dark void of his dilated pupils, as if a veil had been drawn across them. "I can't even begin to express how lucky I am to have you... how beautiful you are."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she placed her hands beside his head for support. She shivered as her nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt, hardened by the cool air of the hotel room and the desire she felt coursing through her. She answered with a hum and ducked her head shyly, mouthing at the sensitive skin underneath his jaw as she wriggled impatiently in his hold.

Spencer chuckled breathlessly, squeezing her ass again before retracting his hands. His fingers danced along the waistband of her pants teasingly before he began to tug them down, dragging her panties with them. His heart raced as she wiggled out of them, hammering against his chest with a rhythm that felt almost deafening. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d done to deserve someone like her, but he would spend a lifetime making sure she knew just how precious she was to him.

"It's your turn to strip," Y/N mumbled as she sat up, straddling his waist as her hands found their way under his shirt. "I feel so... exposed."

Spencer’s brows quirked in amusement, a quiet laugh slipping out before he could stop it as she shoved the shirt up and over his head. She slithered down his body, grinning up at him before placing a kiss on his hip bone. His pants soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the ground, followed shortly after by his boxers.

"There. Is that better, sweetheart?" Spencer teased, but the words went completely unheard as she gawked at him.

Y/N kneeled between his spread legs, her hands planted firmly on his thighs as she took in the sight of him. He lay before her like something straight out of her most vivid dreams, more stunning than she’d ever imagined. He was effortlessly handsome—his hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, and freckles and scars scattered across his shoulders and chest like a map of his past. His muscles were lean and toned, and the sparse hair trailing down beneath his belly button was far more enticing than it should've been. His cock was as pretty as he was, the flushed head of his more than impressive arousal matching the pink of his cheeks.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

"C'mere. I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Spencer grinned, motioning for Y/N to crawl back over him.

Instead of letting her settle with her thighs around his hips like she had previously been, he tugged insistently, her brows furrowing in confusion as she wobbled above him.

"Spencer, what—"

"Get up here," Spencer crooned, finally managing to maneuver her forward so her pussy hovered over his mouth. "And sit down."

Y/N's jaw dropped, her hands flying out to catch herself as she gripped the headboard. She was taken aback, utterly speechless. Here she was, being manhandled by Spencer Reid. The same quiet, awkward genius who rambled endlessly about statistics and couldn’t sit still for more than a minute was man-handling her and demanding she sit on his face. Was she dreaming?

"Are you— are you sure?" Y/N squeaked, staring down at him with wide eyes. "You really don't have to—"

Spencer turned his head so he could pepper open-mouthed kisses up and down her inner thigh, coaxing a soft moan from her as his warm breath fanned across her soaked folds.

"Stop all that worrying, pretty girl. I told you I'd take care of you—let me keep my word."

Before she could protest, Spencer gripped her hips, pulling her down at the same time he tilted his head up to lap his tongue over her core. Any hesitation Y/N had left evaporated from her body as a guttural moan ripped its way from her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Spencer dragged his tongue over her clit. His movements were languid but hungry as he reveled in the taste of her, relishing her essence as though it was the very thing he needed to fuel his existence.

The air was filled with a mixture of moans and the slick sound of Spencer's mouth working between her legs, only amplifying the intense pleasure swimming through her body. Once Spencer was sure Y/N would stay put, he let one of his hands fall away from her hips, tracing it down his body until it wrapped around his cock. The breathy sounds she was letting out had him painfully hard, his thumb spreading the bead of precum spilling from the tip down the length of him as he began to pump himself.

"Oh, fuck—" Y/N whined as she forced her eyes open, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of Spencer touching himself. The sight had her thighs trembling, a low groan rumbling in her throat as she turned her gaze down to look at him underneath her.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows pinched together in pleasure as his hand began to move faster. It was downright sinful. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Spencer alternated between fucking his tongue into her and sucking gently at her clit, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm at a speed she never thought was possible. Y/N's hips rocked against his face, frantic whimpers slipping from her lips as her face began to scrunch in pleasure. The needy moans he was letting out against her skin pushed her over the edge as a sharp gasp broke free into the air, followed by a loud cry as her hands dropped from the headboard to tangle into his hair while she came.

Spencer whimpered as he let go of himself, instead using his hands to anchor her down while he gently worked her through her climax. He pressed a small kiss to her clit before she squirmed away, falling onto the bed beside him as her chest heaved. A look of adoration lingered on his face as he stroked her side and hair, pressing his lips to her forehead while she caught her breath.

Y/N flashed a small grin, rolling her eyes at his proud expression. A comforting heaviness settled in her limbs, pulling her deeper into the bed as she released a soft sigh. It took her a few moments to push herself up on her elbow, shifting to face him instead of lying flat on her back.

"How am I ever supposed to get anything done again now that I know you can do that?" Y/N murmured with a hint of exasperation, tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against his.

Spencer’s breath hitched as she draped her leg across his waist, hissing quietly as the head of his cock brushed against her warmth. He hummed, feigning thought before shrugging with a playful grin. "Could be a reward for a job well done," he teased, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips as his hand rubbed up and down her thigh.

"Yeah?" Y/N's hips began to slowly rock back and forth, the friction from his cock pressing between her folds making her head spin. "Well, can I reward you for a job well done then?"

Spencer's fingers flexed against her thigh, a low noise escaping him as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.

It made sense to him now why sailors would plummet into icy waters at the sound of a siren's call. If that call was anything as alluring as the sound of her voice, he'd happily do the same. She could demand the most heinous things of him right now and he'd do them simply because she asked.

But tonight was about her.

So instead of caving and begging for her touch, he shook his head, his lips quirking up at the pout forming on her lips. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetheart. Not the other way around."

"Okay... so then take care of me by fucking me. Please?"

Spencer's resolve broke at her words. How could he possibly deny her? He'd be an absolute fool not to give her whatever her heart wished for.

His lips met hers in a fervent kiss as he moved to hover over her once more. Two of his fingers found her soaked pussy and sank inside of her with little resistance, a smug grin finding its way to his face as she gasped loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw before he whispered into her ear.

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Y/N bucked her hips up into his touch, writhing underneath him as she nodded frantically. There wasn't a thing in this world that she wanted more. "Yes, Spence, please. Please fuck me. I need it—"

Spencer groaned, latching his lips onto the side of her neck as he inhaled sharply through his nose before he sat back on his heels. His fingers slipped out of her, her eyes widening as he brought the digits to his mouth and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.

"Flip over."

Y/N followed his command without hesitation, the rush of anticipation making her feel almost detached, as though she were on autopilot, waiting to see what he would do next. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he reached for a pillow, tucking it underneath her hips to prop her up. A low whine emitted from her chest as she felt the flushed head of his arousal bump against her entrance, her hips canting back in an attempt to get him to push forward as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her back as he planted his hands into the mattress beside her.

"Do you want it like this, sweetheart? No condom? Because I can go find one..." Spencer murmured into her ear, his breathing labored as he teased her opening.

"Please— Wanna feel you, Spence," She whined into the pillow, arching her hips into his touch, though he remained just out of reach.

Spencer's eyes squeezed shut as a pang of arousal shot through him, taking a shuddering breath to mentally prepare himself not to blow his load before he even fucked her. With a kiss to the back of her head, Spencer began to press forward, easing into her inch by inch.

Y/N's mouth gaped open against the pillow she'd tugged underneath her head in a silent moan, the sensation of him finally filling her more intense than she'd expected. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he bottomed out, a pitiful whimper slipping free as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to adjust to the feeling. Her walls clenched around him instinctively as she adjusted, causing a broken moan to fall from his lips as his head rested against her shoulder, his breath puffing across her skin in warm bursts.

His right arm kept him braced above her while his left arm made its way under her chest, pulling her close as his hand began to grope at her breasts. His fingertips pinched one of her nipples, reveling in the soft moan she let out. "Are you ready for me to move, pretty girl?" He breathed, peppering kisses along the side of her face as he waited for her to relax.

At her nod, Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow but powerful as he repeatedly drove into her. He shifted up onto his knees, pulling her hips back into his languid thrusts as she moaned beneath him. The angle allowed him to brush her G-spot with every stroke, causing her toes to curl with each pang of pleasure that wracked her body. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, a low whine bubbling in his throat as he took in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her.

It was downright erotic, the sight of her arousal coating the wiry curls at the base of him driving him insane. She was so fucking wet for him. The knowledge that he was making her feel this good made his head spin. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He needed to show her how deeply this was affecting him, to make her understand the intensity of the way she made him feel.

Everyone knew Spencer liked to run his mouth. It wasn't a surprise that this remained true during sex. What surprised Y/N, however, was how absolutely filthy of a mouth the man had. Spencer, the same Spencer who had barely uttered a curse in all the years she'd known him, was now stringing together words that would make even the most foul-mouthed person blush.

His pace increased with each word he murmured, small "ah, ah, ah's" spilling from her lips as he began to really pound into her.

"Does that feel good? Huh? Finally being taken care of the way you deserve?"

"Fuck— look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. Do you like that? You like feeling me stretch you open?"

"Such a perfect pussy, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. So tight. My beautiful girl."

Every vulgar word he breathed into the space between them had her mind reeling, her body teetering on the edge of release as her walls fluttered around him. Desperate moans began to spill from her as she took everything he had to offer, her teeth digging into her lower lip to try to stifle the noises in an attempt not to wake everyone on that floor of the hotel. Spencer's gaze was locked on the way her ass rippled with each thrust, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as his brows pinched together and his mouth hung open.

"S-Spence— I'm so close—" Y/N whimpered, burying her face into the pillow beneath her as she moaned helplessly.

He dragged one of his hands away from where it was squeezing her hip, shoving it between her hips and the pillow propping her up as he began to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go, sweet girl. Cum around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."

She cried out at that, thrashing underneath him as the tension coiling in her lower belly finally snapped. Spencer's hips stuttered, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat as she squeezed around him, her legs trembling as one of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever experienced washed over her in waves.

"God— fuck, I'm about to cum," Spencer grunted, his eyes squeezing shut briefly as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked her through it. "Where do you want it, pretty girl?"

"Wanna taste you... Spence, please—" Y/N slurred beneath him, weakly pushing up on her elbows to turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her bottom lip was swollen and lightly bruised from how hard she'd been biting at it, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.

The sight of her looking so ruined almost had him spilling inside of her, and with a muffled curse he pulled out of her, fisting his cock as she rolled onto her back and stuck her tongue out patiently. He shuffled up her body, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard as he gazed down at her reverently. The amusement he felt from the brief feeling of deja vu from having her in a similar position earlier that night was short-lived as his head tipped back, a strained whimper filling the air as her tongue brushed against the head of his cock.

It only took a few pumps for him to cum, his eyes rolling back into his head when she sat up to take him further into her mouth as rope after rope of his essence flooded her throat. Y/N sucked gently, working him through his orgasm until his hips were jerking and he was whining, pulling off of his softening cock with a slick 'pop'. He crumpled onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath.

Spencer wrapped her tightly in his arms, his lips brushing against the top of her head with soft, repeated kisses. Between each tender touch, he murmured how incredible she made him feel, how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to share this life with her, let alone love her the way he did. Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but full of conviction, telling him how deeply she cherished him and how every part of her was filled with love for him.

Her fingers idly traced patterns across the flushed skin of his chest until he caught her hand, pressing tender kisses to her knuckles before quietly slipping out of bed. She groaned petulantly as he pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the bathroom with a pat to her butt and a mumbled but passionate lecture on the timeframe after sex in which she needed to pee to avoid getting a UTI. Even though she knew he was right, she still rolled her eyes as she trudged into the bathroom. She decided to brush her teeth while she was there as well, giggling to herself at the thought of kissing Spencer with the taste of him still in her mouth.

When she stepped out, Spencer had changed the sheets and set a bottle of water on the nightstand, flashing a drowsy grin as she slipped into bed next to him and turned the lamp out. "What's all this about?" she teased, her smile breaking into a yawn.

"I'm taking care of you, just like I said I would."

It didn’t take long for exhaustion to settle in, both of them murmuring good nights between soft kisses. As they drifted off together, Y/N felt certain he would be taking care of her for the rest of his life—and she was just as sure that she would do the same for him.

Continued A/N's: Happy (late) start to December!! I really hope you guys enjoy this :') I plan on doing a little something (maybe, possibly ;) ) for Christmas, so stay tuned for updates on what that little something may be. Also, a loving reminder that my requests are open! :) <3 K

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.