#but i have been seeing an influx of it lately

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Alright don't look at me. This post is going to be very large because I am 3 weeks behind oops. So here we go with Week 4/5/6 of

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you)

And also don't look at me about saying there would be an influx of older Sterek, okay? The Buddie brainrot is hard to beat.

Sterek: 6 Buddie: 33 (Buddie is all below the Read More :) )

BONE APPLE TEETH

"good boy" by quackquackcey | @quackquackcey (2025•E•10.8K)

Stiles doesn’t think his senior year can get any worse with his best friend turning rabid every full moon, until he finds himself stuck with a massive black wolf overnight that doesn’t even like jerky. But on the bright side, the hot guy with the half-dying sister he met at the gas station seems to be in town for a bit, so there’s still a chance that his senior year, his supposed best year of high school, isn’t a complete lost cause…right? That is, if he can manage to juggle the sassy wolf that he takes care of at night and the hot guy that asked him out on a date for some reason.~ 🐺🍕

You're My Sanctuary by lilmissdaydreamer (2022•E•33.4K)

The Argent Wolf Sanctuary. It’s been Stiles’ dream since he was five years old to work with the wolves, ever since his mother took him up there to see the magnificent creatures on one of their ‘full moon runs’ that the Sanctuary does once a month. The wolves are beautiful and much larger than Stiles would’ve thought, or at least, the newest wolf is. The owner had said he’s a special breed. Stiles just didn’t realize quite how special he is.

The Accidental Stilinski by DaisyBeats | @jos-corner-of-the-world (2025•GA•4.2K)

Eli starts his first day at lacrosse practice being mistaken for Stiles. Eli just rolls with it We all love a good unhinged Coach Finstock moment

Badlands by write_light | @write-light (2024•E•33.4K)

Sterek AU as camp counselors / ranch hands from different worlds, meeting in the mountains over three summers, and falling in love but living separate lives. They're only truly free in the endless high altitude summers that never last long enough and can never return the same way twice. Will they find a way to do this forever and just be together? Beacon Hills holds no monsters, but terrible creatures fill the lands around Hale Ranch, high in the Colorado Rockies. Nature walks and howling wolves, bucking bulls and stars overhead, and two boys who need each other more than they’ll ever admit.

begging you to stay (if it isn't too late) by MonsterRae1 | @monsterrae1 (2025•E•15.6K)

���Why?” He asked in between broken sobs “Why did he leave us, dad?” Derek hadn’t know what to answer, he hadn’t known how to explain to their perfect and sweet boy that they had struggled with their marriage for a long time, that they loved each other very very much, that Derek would always love Stiles, but he wasn’t going to force him to stay somewhere he didn’t feel loved anymore. Stiles had wanted more, and Derek couldn’t give him that. * Or, after getting injured on a mission, Stiles is forced to recover under the watch of his ex husband, feelings occur.

Stay the night, stay forever by Helloloveyes (2025•E•9.7K)

Stiles met Erica, Boyd and Isaac on three different occasions, their friendship saved him from the loneliness he carried. Then they introduced him to Derek Hale, a man that changed Stiles' life forever. After failing in love and still suffering the consequences, Derek wasn't expecting to find someone like Stiles, so perfect for him it hurt.

Firelight by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•E•61.2K)

When, in the worst of missing Christopher, Eddie suddenly finds himself having literally turned into a monster, Buck - who is also dealing with a newfound hearing loss diagnosis - is willing to do anything to protect him. Even from himself. OR: Eddie is a creature from Swedish folklore, feat. HOH!Buck

i can read between your lines (dizzy from the spinning) by buckleydiazy | @buckleydiaz (2025•E•4.3K)

“So, theoretically,” Eddie sounds absolutely delighted, “if we didn’t know each other, you’d hook up with me in a public bathroom?” “Theoretically—I mean, do you want a serious answer?” Eddie hesitates for a moment. “Yeah,” he says quietly, all traces of humor gone from his voice. “Tell me.” “Probably,” Buck says. Then a little firmer—“Definitely.” aka: Buck and Eddie have phone sex.

save all your questions for the end by lady_ragnell | @theladyragnell (2025•T•9.3K)

She’s got that pitying expression that always puts Eddie’s hackles up, the widows-and-orphans face, and she’s looking at Buck and Chris as Chris whoops his way down the slide and Buck watches carefully as he catches himself at the bottom. “He must miss his sister very much,” she says. “They look so much alike.” In which someone makes a totally logical, if heteronormative, assumption and Eddie loses his damn mind about it.

making me crazy (really driving me mad) by sunshinelester (2025•E•4.9K)

“Fuck, Buck,” Eddie muttered against his skin, his voice rough and strained. “You smell… good.” Buck’s mind was spinning, conflicting emotions rising in his chest until he felt like he would explode. The alpha in him wanted to growl and nip at the older man’s audacity. To treat him like a potential mate? To look at him like he wanted to swallow the younger man whole? This wasn’t normal. Alphas didn’t act like this with each other, especially not during a rut where the instinct to mate was at the forefront of their minds. And yet. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Eddie was in a rut. As a fellow alpha, Buck didn’t think much of it; not until he had the older man pressed against his back with sharp canines scraping on his mating gland.

a buck caught in headlights by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•M•6.1K)

After going to a queer club together, a drunk Buck and May call Eddie to bring them home. Completely forgetting who is driving, Buck ends up confessing his love for Eddie to May... with Eddie in the front seat. -- Okay,” Buck says to himself as he fishes out his phone from his pocket. The bright light hurts his eyes and he has to put it far away from him, not unlike Bobby trying to read a meme without his reading glasses. The thought makes him giggle. “Who do we call?” “Ghostbusters,” May says, snickering. It takes Buck three tries to unlock his phone. “Hmm… Hen, Karen, Maddie – nope, she needs her beauty sleep. Uh… Eddie, Chim-“ “Eddie!” May says excitedly. She smiles at him, “I love Eddie! Eddie is awesome.” Buck nods, “He really is. I will call Eddie.”

Canine Teeth In The Side Of My Neck by RighteousPunk (2025•E•5.9K)

Eddie’s skin is pale, cold under his touch, yet, something feels different. It’s not pale, cold, is about to die skin he’s used to touch on the worst of emergencies. Their gloves usually don’t manage to hide the feeling that comes with someone who’s on death’s door. And then, it hits him. There’s a hue in Eddie’s eyes, something he’s sure was never there before. In the dim lights of the loft, Eddie’s eyes are shining red. And through Eddie’s slightly opened lips, two white canines are perking out.

Or, Eddie arrives wounded at Buck's loft, and Buck learns a new truth about his best friend.

Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon | @glorious-spoon (2024•T•9.6K)

"Though—and I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but since you and Natalia are over with now, I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie?" Buck stops wincing and just blinks at her for a second. Then he says, "What?" "You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." - Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

shoulder the sky (let the rain come) by literalmetaphor | @absolutelybifurious (2024•M•44.5K)

There’s too much heat. The flames crackle and curl in the busted windows. The house is only two stories high. If Buck would listen, if he’d turn around and get out – he could be at the door, he could be out of the fucking blast radius. But Buck’s still standing in it. Eddie is cursed. Like he has been for years. Eddie is the blast radius. OR Eddie Diaz is cursed.

Parabola by semperama | @semperama (2025•T•4.6K)

“Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” Eddie turns toward him, mouth quirked, brow furrowed, like Buck has just said something sort of silly. Like he’s talking about curses again. “What?” “I mean. Like.” Buck twists his fingers together in his lap and looks down at them. “You need to change it so your parents will be his guardians, right? If something happens to you.” “What?” Eddie says again, and he doesn’t sound amused this time.

you'll find you again by rangerdanger (mxgicxltrxgedy) | @call-me-medusa (2025•E•4.6K)

“Eddie,” Buck asks again, punctuating each word as he repeats his question, “What did you want to do?” Eddie can barely remember how they got here in the first place. “Give myself joy.” “Give yourself joy.” Buck repeats. “Now, how are you going to give yourself joy if I come and get you off myself?” - Or, Eddie's learning how to want joy for himself.

A Million Stabs Is All It Took by hearmyplea (2025•T•18.2K)

Eddie wants a tattoo after returning from deployment. The fact that his tattoo artist, this Evan guy, is affecting him this much shouldn't be examined.

from your point of view by MacksDramaticShenanigans | @stevethehairington (2025•T•4.3K)

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie not-quite-slurs. It’s a close thing, though. The glass in his hand is his fourth— no, fifth, and wine always hits him so much harder. He’s bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked and loose-limbed on the couch, pressed so close to Buck he’s half in his lap. Buck’s got a steadying arm around his waist— couldn’t avoid the draw to touch even if he wanted to. “Hm?” Buck asks, feeling a little buzzy himself. “Buck,” Eddie repeats. “You’re bicyc—bisect— bisexual.” Buck laughs at Eddie’s stumble. Smiles bright, proud, and nods. “I am,” he agrees. “Have you ever—” Eddie’s winestained mouth purses; his brow furrows thoughtfully, “— have you ever thought about me?” He sways forward, widens his eyes purposefully, whispers, “Like, y’know.”

white house AU by buddiebuddie | @buddie-buddie [Part 1 & 2]

buck is the president of the united states and eddie is the secret service agent in charge of his security detail. shenanigans ensue.

Ink Flowers Into My Skin by hoveringcat9 | @hoveringcat9 (2025•T•4.7K)

Buck feels adrift, he’s fed up of dating and his search for the right tattoo artist has been fruitless. Luckily Karen has a new friend up to the job and more. For Week 7 of Winter of Buddie - Prompt Floral

kiss me on the mouth and set me free by keiro (2025•E•3.6K)

“It’s alright , it’s alright… I got you,” Eddie whispers on his skin, punctuating the end of the phrase with a kiss. When he speaks again, his voice is a tone lower, words rasping out of his lips. “Eyes on me, Buck.” Buck forces himself to open his eyes, and he’s just in time to see Eddie staring right at him, opening his mouth just a little while he holds his arm. Buck sees the way Eddie’s fangs expand, a gasp stuck on his throat right as they sink into his skin. - Eddie bites Buck, what comes next is a consequence.

He touched me, so I live to know by KejfeBlintz (2025•T•4.1K)

Eddie was jostled as Buck crashed down beside him, drinks in hand. The bar was packed so six of them were jammed in a booth designed for four. Eddie shot a quick apologetic look at Ravi, who had been squashed against the wall with Buck’s ungainly arrival. Buck handed out everyone’s drinks then pushed himself close to Eddie to fit on the bench, elbowing him in the ribs. “Watch it, Buckley,” Eddie groused, elbowing him back. “You watch it, Diaz,” Buck replied, kicking his ankle. “How about you both watch it,” Ravi grumbled as he was shoved against the wall again. “Be easier if there wasn’t a literal giant taking up all this space,” Eddie complained, “dude, when did you get this broad?” “These are lifesaving muscles, Eddie, don’t be a hater.” Or, 5 times Buck and Eddie touched, and one time they really touched.

An Angry Blade by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•M•43.8K)

Buck finds out that the curse of Billy Boils is VERY real, and far more complicated and dangerous than he could have expected.

H-E-A-T-A/B/O: A Buddie Anthology by Bucksbelly (drarryweasley) | @bucksbelly [WIP] (2025•E•20.9K)

An anthology of Buddie one-shots based in omegaverse settings. These stories are NOT connected; they each have slightly different lore and can be read in any order! Brought to you by I wanted to write my favorite trope but couldn't decide how to do it so I wrote a bunch of them

Pain's like cold water by shadowkatninjawarrior (2024•M•75.2K)

Evan Buckley had lived a lie for sixteen years and it was going just fine. Until the truth started spilling through his fingers. Or, Omega!Buck has been pretending to be an alpha for more than half his life and everything changes when Eddie finds out.

faded from the winter by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•T•9.9K)

Eddie struggles to bounce back after the shooting. Buck starts leaving him with his service dog, Cranberry.

gravity in between us by charmingqueenie | @alexisrosemullens (2025•T•16.7K)

Eddie’s not used to explaining his relationship with Buck. Everyone in LA just knows what they are. They’re Buck and Eddie. There isn’t one without the other. He knows that he’s been vague about what Buck is to him with his new coworkers. He knows this and yet he can’t stop himself. The first few times were an accident. He doesn’t mean to be vague and what he said could imply platonic. This time though. or Eddie accidentally implies that he's dating Buck to his new team in El Paso.

We're Overdue for a Revival by BespectacledBunny | @bespectacledbunnys (2024•M•60.8K)

“If I had,” Chris lingers on the words, watching Eddie intently through the screen, “If I had conditions?” Eddie feels his stomach knot up. It’s the first time Chris has ever alluded to a willingness to come home. Usually he just shoots Eddie down with a flat “I know” before hurrying off the call. Eddie Diaz will be damned before he lets this chance slip through his hands. “Anything,” his voice rings with desperation in his own ears, “Whatever you need to feel ready to come home. If I can make it happen, I will.” Chris eyes him, young face serious as a judge presiding over trial. An apt comparison because only Chris could condemn or parole Eddie. His fate is in his son’s hands so completely that if he was going to therapy, Frank would probably be concerned. Finally, Chris opens his mouth and says something so earth shattering as to crack the foundations of his father’s mind. “Marry Buck,” Chris says firmly.

cat-astrophic by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•T•5.5K)

Buck falls in love with a kitten. The kitten falls in love with Eddie. (Buck doesn't blame her.) -- It doesn’t take long before a familiar truck approaches. Eddie looks unimpressed as Buck gets into the car, holding the kitten tightly to his chest. “I’m surprised it took you this long to pick up a stray.” Buck snorts, “Well, you picked me first, so.” Eddie shakes his head, starting to drive again. “I didn’t pick you. You just appeared.” “Well, this one just appeared as well,” Buck tells him. “I couldn’t leave it, Eddie. What if a predator eats it?”

What if All I Need is You by serenelystrange | @serenelystrange (2025•GA•2.9K)

“Does Ravi actually think me and Eddie are dating?” “Maybe,” Chim says after a moment of consideration. “Or he’s just really good at fucking with you.” “50/50,” Hen agrees. “Eddie doesn’t even like men,” Buck says with a frown. “I asked.” “Of course you did,” Chim says, dropping his head into his hand with a murmured whisper of Jesus Christ.

oh brother, I see (you burn like me) by canadadry (2024•M•47.9K)

Adriana doesn’t tell their parents that she’s going to LA. She doesn’t tell Eddie, either—or ask, for that matter. She does ask Chris, and he thinks it’s a good idea—says as much, on the phone, and doesn’t say much else. “Buck will probably be hovering,” is what Chris does volunteer. It still surprises her when the man who opens the door is not Eddie. It’s—Captain America, is the thing that actually comes to mind—a man close to a foot taller than she is, if not more than that, with blond curls and broad shoulders, and he’s got a question in his very blue eyes that’s probably less friendly than the one he actually asks her. “Uh,” he says. “Can I help you?” — Or: Adriana arrives in LA. Maddie has been here the whole time.

Don’t hang up on me, cause I’m hung up on you by creatures_that_dont_die | @creatures-that-dont-die (2025•E•5.8K)

“What are you making for dinner?” “I was just going to reheat some leftovers,” Buck says. Eddie makes a noncommittal noise on the other end, sounding almost disappointed. “What, were you hoping I’d make you something?” “No, I—” Eddie hesitates, then sighs. “I sort of wanted to listen to you cook.” The softness in his voice shifts to teasing. “You talk so much while you do it, I figure it’ll fill all the silence here. But I can just watch TV instead, once I figure out how to—” “No, no, I’ll cook something. Only because you asked so nicely. I’ll put you on speaker, okay?” As Buck sorts through Eddie’s fridge, deciding what he can throw together, he and Eddie fall into their usual chatter. When he’s at the stove, facing away from his phone resting on the table, he can almost imagine that Eddie is here with him and not 800 miles away. (Buck and Eddie talk on the phone almost constantly, and one thing leads to another.)

one way out and we're gonna find it by atlasblue85 | @atlasblue85 (2025•T•6.9K)

He just needed a little more time, is what he kept telling himself. A little more time to work through it and he’d be okay, wouldn’t feel like there’s a vice grip over his heart and lungs and the voices of his childhood priests in the back of his head at the thought of being seen in public with a man. There’s tears rolling silently down his cheeks now as Buck cradles him, and he finally manages to whisper, “How’d you do it? Go on a date with a guy, in public?” “Eddie?” Buck’s hands still from where they’ve been rubbing soothing patterns across Eddie’s back. “I don’t– I can’t–” Eddie tries, but he can’t make the words come, and he grips Buck’s shirt tighter instead.

younger than clouds by seachanged | @spacesongs (2025•T•1.1K)

When Buck drifts back awake the sun is about to drop over the horizon, its last light bathing the cabin in buttery pinks and corals. Eddie is leaning against the kitchen island dressed in a pair of boxer briefs that appear to be Buck’s, at least judging by how low they hang on his hips.

check me out and take me home by prioritizelove (2025•GA•1.4K)

“Chris really likes you, you know. One time–” Eddie laughs, “One time I brought him here during the evening, so you weren’t here, and he was literally pouting when we left. Said the librarian at the desk wasn’t as good as his friend Buck and ended up just checking out one of those, uh,” he waves a hand, “wimpy diary books.” Or Buck's a children's librarian and Christopher is his favorite patron. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to seeing Christopher’s dad as well.

Meet Me in the Middle (Underneath a Little Bit of Mistletoe) by Princessfbi | @princessfbi (2022•E•40.2K)

“I’m sorry…” Eddie said, holding his hand out to stop the tumble of words falling from Buck’s lips. “You want to what?” Of all the things he thought Buck wanted to talk about at breakfast, the breakfast Buck had asked Eddie if he wanted to grab at the end of their long shift, this was nowhere near it. “Fake date.” Buck repeated with all the confidence in the world that Eddie didn’t believe for a second because what Buck was proposing was insane. “For the holidays.” aka Buck and Eddie agree to fake date each other to get through dinner with their parents during the holidays!

Face to my face by EtoileGarden | @etoilegarden (2023•T•46.5K)

“Is your birthmark genetic?” Bobby asked, raising his eyebrow at Buck over the salami he was slicing. “Does it match one of your parents?” Buck spoke through the slice of salami he’d snuck into his mouth. “Nah,” he said. “I’m the first.” “Maybe your kids will have it,” Hen suggested. “If you end up having kids.” “Poor kids,” Chim said, patted Buck on the back. “I can not imagine that was a kind birthmark to wear during school. Kids are mean.” Buck tried to laugh it off. Was filled with the cold memory of his classmates teasing him. He’d managed to bluster his way into popularity as a teenager - once he’d shot up and became broad in all the right places. But before that? “Maddie - my sister - she always said I looked cool,” he said in an attempt at bravado. “I think - I think - I was fine.” Or - another dad!Buck fic because I always love writing baby fics. Eventual Buck/Eddie.

[epitome-of-an-openbook]

what if i block every person that i see campaigning for or speculating that Buck and Eddie will kiss at the bachelor party bc that enforces the truly horrible bi stereotype that bisexual people, like myself, are more likely to cheat? what if I did that 🤨?

[kyannnite]

considering the last time i did one of these was years ago i think it’s time for an update

my art tag :-)

[ohsweetflips]

today has been so emotionally weird it’s like 6pm struck and pandora’s box 2 opened

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[vraiao]

adeptus' temptation

✰ . fem!reader, creampie, nipple play, uhhh nothing else i love xiao

xiao has been having quite a rough time with the sudden influx of overtime in his role of protector of liyue, but of course, you're always there to help him out <3.

divider creds @/strangergraphics !

after quite a long day of xiao's taxing duties, he returned home to you rather late at night. this was unusual because he was typically home earlier, but he had been taking on quite the workload for some time now. of course, every night he'd come back so late, he would apologize and promise that this wouldn't go on for much longer.

quietly crawling into bed next to you, he was exhausted, more so than he usually was, but he was also awfully clingy tonight. despite your relaxed form sleeping soundly, he carefully wrapped his arms around your waist and laid halfway on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and trailing soft kisses all along your skin.

the sudden sensation caused you to stir awake, and your eyes slowly fluttered open. you looked down at him, bringing a hand up to gently run it through his hair as you spoke in a sleepy whisper, "long day, xiao?"

squeezing you a little tighter, he nodded. "mhm. 'm so overworked..," he murmured, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke. before you could wrap your arms around you and kiss him on the forehead, he propped himself up to straddle above you. as you looked up at him, you could so clearly see the intense fatigue on his face. you frowned. he looked weary, like he hadn't been eating much, and the dark circles under his eyes were visible even in this low lighting.

you placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch, letting out a soft sigh of relaxation as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. when he opened them again, there was a desperate look mixed with something else in his eyes, but you couldn't quite pinpoint it. he leaned forward again, beginning to pepper soft kisses on your cheek before moving them back down to your neck. his hands lightly trailed up and down your waist as he softly muttered in between the kisses he left along your skin, "can you make me feel better,, please?"

there was a plea in his tone that you just couldn't refuse. why not indulge a lover in need, yeah? you could barely get a nod in before he was crashing his lips against yours, his tongue eagerly slipping its way into your mouth as his hands wasted no time slipping just under the hem of your shirt.

he hardly pulled off of you, muttering quiet thank you's in the very short time frames where he moved his lips from yours to let you breathe. of course the yaksha could hold his breath much longer than you, so he didn't break the kiss until your hands moved up and frantically tugged at his hair.

you panted breathlessly as his hungry kisses moved down to your neck, his hands shoving your shirt up just enough to set your perfect tits on full display. he took a moment, his all-devouring gaze drinking in the sight of you beneath him like fine wine. a deep red splashed your cheeks and your eyes shifted away from his as if he'd swallow you whole if you looked too long.

he pulled your legs up to wrap around his waist, and you heard a soft laugh from him before he moved his head down, hand groping one of your boobs as he popped your nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking at the sensitive nub. his piercing golden eyes never left your face, admiring the sight of you whimpering and slightly arching your back off the bed when he started to bite.

his every touch set fire to your skin, not once taking your eyes off of him as his mouth and hands traveled your body like an empty canvas waiting to be turned into a magnificent painting. so when he’s tearing your panties off(he’ll promise to buy you a new pair later) and starting at stuffing his cock into you, you can’t help the shrill whine that immediately jumps out of your throat.

he's slowly pushing his hips forward, soft groans already escaping his mouth as your pussy sucks him in so sweetly. he starts off slow, pulling his hips back and forth in short, harsh thrusts. his head is hung low, grip tightening on you as needy moans and incoherent praises spill past his lips and directly into your ears.

your legs squeezed tight around his waist, pulling him closer so he could fuck you deeper. your hands tangled and tugged at his hair, whines of his name leaving your mouth like a catchy song-- a beautiful melody to his ears.

at this rate he was fucking you like a bitch in heat, his fast pace so difficult to keep up with and practically knocking the air out of your lungs. his grip on you was bruising, nails digging into your plush skin as he completely ruined your pussy. your eyes were rolling so far back into your skull that you swore you'd be able to see your brain soon-- back arching off of the bed and your legs squeezing tighter around his waist as all sorts of pleas and lewd phrases rushed out of your mouth.

desperately chasing his high, he speeds up imperceptibly-- which you didn't even know was possible at the rate he was already going. when he started to desperately bite all over your neck and collarbones like a starved man, your vision went spotty and your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami.

gazing down at the creamy white ring formed at the base of his cock by your juices, his hips stuttered as fervent gasps and desperate, stringy moans started to spill past his lips while he neared the edge.

a few more sharp thrusts and he started to unravel, pace erratic and unsteady as he spilled ropes of his cum into you with heavenly whimper that fell right into your ears. his thrusts slowly stuttered to a stop as the last of his cum spurted into you, droplets of it already dripping onto the sheets below you.

your combined breaths were heavy, but he only stopped for a moment before he started to slowly thrust again. pulling all the way out until just the tip was left in you before harshly snapping his hips forward, groaning each time his skin slapped against yours. what a long, long night you were going to have.

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, a yellow hyacinth | Aaron Hotchner

MASTERLIST

requested

pairing: Aaron Hotch x fem liaison reader

summary: When Hotch finds out you’ve been receiving flowers at work, an unexpected twinge of jealousy bubbles up, prompting him to snap at you for the first time. But when he catches you with the charming guy behind those flowers, he can’t help but let his irritation fly, determined to crash the moment and reclaim his territory. Flowers, apologies, and unspoken feelings swirl in the dimly lit office, and as the elevator doors close, one thing is clear: in this office, stakes are high, banter is sharp, and those flowers might be just the beginning of your troubles.

warnings: some angst and a little more of jealousy, hotch fighting his feelings for you, boss x subordinate

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

The tension in the atmosphere had thickened to an almost tangible weight in recent days, an oppressive silence that hung over the office like a storm cloud. Everyone sensed it, you felt it strongly enough to avoid the bullpen as much as possible.

It was a simmering fury that bubbled beneath the surface—fury aimed not just at Hotch, but at yourself, too. You had found yourself ensnared in a predicament that felt increasingly inescapable.

Yet alongside this anger, there lingered a peculiar, unsettling sensation gnawing at your insides. Was it simply the sting of disappointment at witnessing your boss’s disapproval for the first time, and for the stupidest reason, or was there something deeper at play?

~

When Aaron glanced through the blinds of his office window, which framed the bullpen like a living portrait, his eyes instinctively landed on you. His gaze followed as you stepped into the bullpen, focused on navigating the familiar space, your heels echoing softly on the floor. The sleek ponytail of your hair was swaying rhythmically with each confident step as you made your way towards Emily’s table, a bouquet in your hands.

You wore a crisp white shirt tucked neatly into a black leather pencil skirt, Aaron noticed— a combination that was both professional and undeniably striking.

His gaze fell on the delicate collar framing your neck and a rush of admiration mixed with something more primal surged within him, fighting to keep his focus.

Unbeknownst to you, Aaron’s gaze lingered, and an involuntary gulp caught in his throat—unaware of the effect you had on him; a reaction to the undeniable presence you exuded.

When Hotch had entered your office earlier that morning with the expectation of seeing you, he was met with an unexpected sight that sent his mind reeling. Lately, he had noticed the influx of flowers adorning your workspace—each bouquet seemingly more extravagant than the last.

The first bouquet, the third, the seventh… and yet he had remained silent, a spectator to your blossoming attention. However, upon entering your office and discovering that, he needed to take action.

Surprised, although not for the same reason Emily might have been, or you, or any other woman, but because those bouquets of flowers were scattered across every available surface—a riot of colors on your desk, the sofa, the cabinet, the floor. Even the damn floor.

It was a sight that would have delighted anyone else, but for him, it sparked something else entirely.

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze darting around the room, landing on the largest bouquet of roses. A surge of urgency propelled him forward, and he reached out, fingers brushing the delicate petals. But just as quickly, this moral compass deep within him compelled him to retract his hand, leaving the note unread among the blossoms. Why did he do that?

There was restlessness fluttering inside him — his heart quivered, his thoughts stirred, his hand clenched into a fist. All this unconsciously, without his knowledge and even less without his permission.

Frustrated, he exited the office, anger directed inwards rather than towards you. He was so consumed by his own turmoil that he failed to notice Derek humming a casual tune as he passed by. Those stolen glances, late-night conversations, and shared moments in silence—did they mean nothing to you? Why was he acting like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away?

Now, as he watched you out of his window, you just presented Emily with one of the many bouquets, placing it gently on her worktable. The moment was met with surprise; a rosy blush crept across Emily’s cheeks as she leaned down to inhale the fragrance of the blooms, the only touch of color on her otherwise sparse desk. It was a simple gesture, yet it ignited a warm laugh that bubbled from her lips, a testament to the joy that flowers could bring.

Women very simple creatures sometimes. You gave them flowers and their whole day was made. They were more than just a gift; they conveyed a sense of thoughtfulness from the sender — someone showing them they cared.

As Aaron contemplated this, a nagging feeling tightened in his chest, the thought of you receiving those haphazardly arranged bouquets gnawing at him. What did it feel like to be the recipient of such attention? He shut his eyes, frustration mingling with confusion. Without thinking any further, he left his office in a hurry, propelled by emotions he couldn’t quite grasp, desperate to confront the swirling thoughts that haunted him.

Firstly, he called out your name with a brusqueness that cut through the chatter, and then he commanded you into his office with a tone that brooked no argument. The collective shift of gazes from your colleagues was palpable, each person’s curiosity piqued by the sudden tension. Emily, noticing your bewilderment, shrugged her shoulders. Derek let out a playful whistle, adding to the atmosphere of uncertainty. You excused yourself, the weight of unspoken questions heavy in the air as you made your way towards Hotch’s office.

“Yes?” You closed the door behind you, stepping cautiously into the space that felt suddenly charged. He stood behind his chair— indirectly telling you there was no need for you to sit either.

Aaron scrutinized you, his gaze piercing, as if trying to unveil layers hidden beneath your calm facade. The intensity in his eyes sparked an unsettling fire within you. His stern expression left little doubt that you were about to receive a lecture.

When he finally spoke, his voice was unyielding. “This is a workplace.”

You glanced sideways, replying through a hesitant smile. “Yes.” You weren’t sure what this was about. Looking back at him, you confirmed. “I know that.”

You couldn’t remember if Hotch ever called you out on something. There was a reason everyone referred to you as his soft spot, and you were very well aware of that.

“I’ve started to doubt it.“ he replied, his gaze drifting momentarily to his desk, eyebrows knitting together in frustration before snapping back to you. It was clear that this situation was unfamiliar territory for him, too.

“Excuse me?” Your eyes narrowed, challenging his assertion.

“I’m talking about your office.”

“Why? It’s just some flowers, Hotch.” Your defensiveness edged your words, a forced casualness clashing with the discomfort bubbling beneath the surface.

“It’s not just some flowers. It’s a whole flower boutique.”

You huffed, exasperation creeping in. “Why are you acting like this?”

His brows furrowed even further, his head tilting slightly as if he were trying to comprehend your question. “Acting like what?”

“Frustrated. Over some damn flowers.”

“I’m your superior.” He snapped, imbuing the air with an undeniable authority, but even as the words left his mouth, he felt a stab of regret. It hurt you, he could see that, and the realization left him unsettled. Did he truly believe that hierarchy justified his reaction? Or was he simply hiding behind his title to mask his deeper feelings? The very idea made him feel foolish.

Aaron stood still behind his chair, but inside, a storm of conflicting emotions raged. He couldn’t comprehend why he was so worked up over something as trivial as flowers. It was an irrational reaction, and yet, every time he tried to dismiss it, another wave of frustration washed over him.

There was a flicker of something deeper in him—a protective instinct perhaps, or something more complex. He could feel it pulsing under the surface, but he didn’t have the clarity to name it.

You stood there, disappointment washing over your features, and he felt an unexpected pang of guilt. Why did he care so much? As your boss, he was supposed to keep the team aligned. He was supposed to be your boss, an ally, not the one causing this rift between you. Instead, he found himself obsessing over the sight of your office flooded with blooms, the vibrant colors contrasting starkly with the serious nature of their work. He was acutely aware of how the team was watching, how the tension between you both had become the elephant in the room. It was like a charged magnetism, drawing attention and whispers, and he hated that it felt like a distraction from their mission. But the emotion tangled within him, leaving him more confused than ever. It was new territory for him, and he was unsure how to navigate the storm brewing between professional duty and the undeniable connection he felt towards you.

The silence stretched between you, charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings, the tension in the air thickening with every heartbeat.

A sudden rush of something unnameable surged through you at his dismissiveness. Adding a quick but firm “Sir,” you turned on your heel and left his office, a swirl of emotions churning within you.

Once you were gone, he maintained a calm facade until the door clicked shut behind you. With a heavy sigh, he released the tension that had coiled in his chest.

In the sleek, metal elevator of the FBI office building, you stood beside Nathaniel, a charming colleague, exchanging playful banter as the elevator smoothly ascended. His laughter filled the small space, and you found yourself leaning in closer, sharing a joke that had him chuckling, completely at ease. The way he smiled—that kind expression always so infectious that you felt your own lips curling.

Just as the banter reached a peak, the elevator doors dinged and slid open to reveal your boss— Aaron, standing there, hands in his pockets, he was all sharp suits and commanding presence, but now—now his expression a mix of surprise and something deeper.

He cleared his throat, his gaze switching between you and your companion.

“Morning, everyone,” he managed, his voice tight.

The men exchanged wary glances but the shifting emotions in Aaron’s eyes made it hard for you to decipher what he was feeling. You could sense a shift in the air as he stepped inside — it was thick, charged with an unspoken tension that hung between the two of you like a taut wire, ready to snap. You managed to greet him back, but his eyes remained fixed on you and Nathan, an unmistakable frown creeping onto his face. Aaron’s lips pressed together a little tighter.

The elevator continued its journey, but the mood had changed. Hotch stood close to the elevator doors, his back to you, shifting uncomfortably as he sensed the playful energy behind him. As he heard a soft and familiar chuckle escape you, his jaw tightened, and his knuckles whitened inside his pockets. It was apsurd, he knew he had no right to feel possessive over you. Unfortunately, you didn’t belong to him. Yet, he couldn’t shake the deep-rooted urge. He felt immobilised, tormented by the sight that you were looking at another man with such fondness, and not someone else… Not him.

Turning around, he glanced between you and the man, who remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within Aaron. “How are you feeling today?” he asked, his tone softer than usual, directed at you but layered with an undercurrent of curiosity.

“I’m good…” you replied, darting your gaze between the two men, unsure of where this was heading. “Why d—”

“I saw you throw all the flowers from your office in the trash yesterday.” His tone was deliberately casual, but you sensed the underlying challenge. He feigned ignorance, yet he knew very well that Nathan was the one who had sent you those flowers. How he found out didn’t matter; what mattered was that he knew you were oblivious to the fact.

Your heart raced, warmth flooding your cheeks as you shifted your gaze between Aaron and Nathan, acutely aware of the latter’s confused expression. This was not the best moment for your boss to bring it up, especially not in front of the sender. “Hotch, you said—” you began, desperate to defend yourself.

“I didn’t say you should throw them away.” He stared into your eyes, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t want something so nice.” The way he phrased it felt like a direct jab, and you couldn’t shake the feeling he was relishing the moment.

Nathan glanced between you and Aaron, his brows furrowing. “Wait, you didn’t like them?” he asked, genuine concern creeping into his voice.

Aaron’s eyebrows raised expectantly as he studied you, waiting for you to answer. Caught between the two men, you felt the heat of embarrassment rise in your cheeks. Aaron turned to the elevator’s display as the digits changed, muttering, “Alas.” He glanced down at his watch just as the elevator dinged. “Just in time.”

You turned to Nathan, wanting to explain, but Hotch stepped outside, turning around to address you. “I need you.”

You raised your brows, waiting. He added, “In the conference room.”

When you stood frozen in place, his expression hardened, voice leaving no room for argument. “Now.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, murmuring an apology to the other man as you stepped forward. Hotch strode towards the bullpen, a faint smile playing on his lips, and you followed, your thoughts swirling with the unsettling desire to wrap your hands around his neck. To say you wanted to choke him would be an understatement.

After a long day spent wrapping up a challenging case, you returned to the office, welcomed by the familiar hum of the building. The lighting in your workspace was soft and muted, casting gentle shadows that danced along the walls, creating a cozy yet intimate atmosphere. As you stepped inside, the air felt still, almost charged with anticipation.

Your gaze landed on your desk, where a stunning potted plant awaited you. Its lush green leaves unfurled like delicate hands reaching for the light, creating a vibrant contrast against the muted backdrop of your office. A smile crept onto your face, and you assumed it was the same sender again, delighting in the thought of his thoughtfulness. The sweet, earthy aroma enveloped you as you leaned closer, savoring the moment.

Nestled beside the pot was a card. You picked it up, turning it over to find a message penned in a well-known handwriting.

I’m sorry.

Your heart raced, and a smile instantly spread across your face.

Just as you admired the plant, a sharp rap echoed through the room. Two knocks. You turned to find Hotch standing at the doorway. The low light accentuated the sharp lines of his jaw and the slight furrow in his brow.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside. He scanned the room, as if searching for the right words that wouldn’t come off wrong or selfish. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day.” His gaze dropped to his hands, fiddling with his phone as shadows flickered across his face. “I was out of line. I may have not handled myself like a Unit Chief should.”

When he met your eyes, the corner of his lips turned down, revealing a hint of vulnerability. The soft glow illuminated the intensity in his dark eyes.

You tilted your head, intrigued by your boss’ almost shy demeanor. Your eyes softened as you offered him a warm smile, genuinely appreciative of his sincerity. “Thank you, Hotch. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, shifting his gaze to the plant behind your back. “And the gift…it’s from me.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your playful smile unwavering. “Don’t say?” You turned around to take the pot in your hands.

“I thought you deserved something better. And I promise, it’s just this one plant. I know how you feel about your office turning into a flower shop.” He replied, a hint of humour laced in his tone.

You knew he was talking about the way you had discarded of the flowers — how you put them in a big black trash bag and threw them in the containers behind the building. Just the thought that he might have spied on you, seeing you do it, danced on top of your heart.

Leaning down, you inhaled the fresh scent of the leaves, their vibrant green appearing even more vivid in the dim light. “Well, let’s hope it is just this one plant.” You said, trying to sound serious before looking at Hotch over the top of your plant, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “As much as I might not like it, my boss despise it.”

There was a glint of mirth dancing inside your eyes. “This is not a botanical garden after all, is it?”

Aaron watched you for a moment before his stoic facade cracked. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he glanced down at his hands before meeting your gaze again, trying to return some seriousness to his expression. “Exactly. I can only handle so much floral decor.”

“I mean, yellow hyacinths would definitely clash with your suit, don’t you think?”

Yellow hyacinths— the flowers of jealousy.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, clearly not picking up on your implication. “I suppose so,” he replied, but there was a fleeting shadow across his expression that hinted at something deeper.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world outside your office faded away, leaving just the two of you locked in this shared moment. You could see the warmth in his expression, the way his eyes held a depth of feeling that hinted at unspoken emotions illuminated by the dim glow of the lamp beside you. Your heart raced, an undeniable connection sparking between you.

You glanced at the plant again, blushing, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Thank you, Hotch. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He gave a nod as he met your gaze, a small smile appearing at his lips. He never knew how you managed to make him smile with just a comment, just one look. “I’m glad you like them.”

There was softness in his gaze, a flicker of vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“Good night,” he finally said, breaking the silence that crackled with electricity between you. He turned to leave before you could respond.

“Good night,” you whispered, stepping into the hallway after him, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him go. You relished his figure, the way he moved, the confidence in his stride.

When he disappeared behind the glass doors, you sighed, your gaze falling down to the plant in your hands.

The flowers, though beautiful, were ephemeral; a fleeting moment of beauty that left only memories in their wake. This plant—it felt like a promise, a symbol of something lasting in a world filled with fleeting moments. You would care for it, would cherish it, regardless of what anyone said. You would treasure it.

The corner of your lips turned upwards.

It only confirmed what you already knew.

No man could ever compare to Aaron Hotch.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Online Meeting 🖥

Alexia Putellas x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

Alexia is in the middle of a major online interview when you accidentally walk into the room, having completely forgotten she was busy. Although the camera doesn’t catch you, Alexia’s reaction is caught live.

Alexia was sitting at her desk, her laptop perfectly positioned as she adjusted her headphones one last time. The small study in your shared apartment had been transformed into her mini-interview set, with her Barça trophies and framed jerseys in the background, arranged neatly to give the interview the perfect backdrop. She was poised, as always, every inch the composed professional that everyone expected her to be.

You, on the other hand, had completely forgotten about the interview. It wasn’t until you were halfway through your third cup of coffee, humming to yourself as you cleaned the kitchen, that you realized something seemed… off. There was a lingering quietness that told you Alexia was probably busy. But by the time that thought even crossed your mind, it was already too late. With your usual casualness, you strolled down the hall, lost in your thoughts, and opened the door to the study without knocking.

Alexia had just finished answering a question about her career highlights when her eyes flicked up to meet yours as you stepped into the room. Her reaction was instant, her brown eyes widening slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across her features. Her hand shifted on the desk, almost as if she was trying to keep herself composed. But what gave it away was the tiny, amused smile that tugged at her lips. One she desperately tried to hide as she glanced quickly back at her screen.

You froze, mid-step, realizing your mistake. You had completely forgotten she was in the middle of the live interview, and now you’d just barged in like it was no big deal. Your face flushed instantly, and you mouthed a quick and apologetic, “Sorry!” before backing out of the room as quietly as you could manage.

The camera hadn’t caught you, thankfully, but Alexia’s reaction was all over the screen. Viewers couldn’t see you, but they could see her. And while Alexia was trying her hardest to stay focused on the interviewer’s next question, the damage had already been done. Her usually calm and composed demeanor had cracked, if only for a moment, and her fans weren’t going to miss it.

The next few minutes of the interview went on, but anyone watching could tell Alexia’s mind had wandered. She’d answer the questions with her usual grace, but there was a softness to her expression now, a slight curve to her lips that hadn’t been there before. And, occasionally, she’d glance off-camera for just a second, where she knew you were probably pacing the hall, silently cursing yourself for the interruption.

The interview wrapped up shortly after, and Alexia thanked the interviewer with her usual charm. But as soon as the call ended, she slid off her headphones and called out, “Cariño!”

You appeared in the doorway again, your face flushed, still embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” you said, rushing over. “I completely forgot! Did I ruin it?”

Alexia chuckled, leaning back in her chair and reaching for your hand to pull you into her lap. “You didn’t ruin anything"

You let a sigh of relief as you leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder. Alexia kissed your temple softly, clearly amused.

That was a lie, Alexia had noticed the subtle shift in the live chat during the interview. The influx of comments as soon as her reaction was caught on screen. You did definitely ruin the interview, but you didn't need to know or worry your pretty head about it.

*Did anyone else catch that?? Who walked into the room?!*

*OMG Alexia almost broke character. Who was it??*

*She’s so cute when she’s distracted. Someone made her smile, and I need to know who!*

*I've never seen Alexia react like that during an interview. What happened??*

pt. 2 ; pt.3

[littletism]

been seeing an influx of new regressors with twitter/pinterest/roblox brainrot lately, and i feel this needs to be said.

you do NOT need to be skinny to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be white to be a valid little.

you do NOT need gear to be a valid little.

you do NOT need a caregiver to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be feminine to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be afab to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be neurodivergent to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be traumatized to be a valid little.

you do NOT have to be 100% pure to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be asexual to be a valid little.

you do NOT need to be a minor to be a valid little.

all littles are valid. all caregivers are valid. everyone who partakes in this inner child healing passtime is valid. the amount of times i’ve seen people say you need to be a feminine skinny white girl or else you shouldn’t regress is insane. twitter/pinterest/roblox agere spaces are NOT your friend, they are exclusionist cesspools. keep yourselves safe, hugs n kisses 🎀

[mead-iocre]

Lip Plumper | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: Leah doesn't like your new (expensive) lip plumper

warnings: gets a liiiitle bit suggestive towards the end, language

wc: 3.9 K

“Hiya!” You flash a grin at the camera. Your eyes scan the influx of viewers and comments from fans greeting you back. “Hi, Grace! Hello, Liz!” You give the camera a quick wave, trying to say hello to a few names that you pick out from the flood of comments. 

“Right then” You bring your hands together, and then pause for dramatic effect. “Since many of you enjoyed my last live, I thought it would be fun to do another one” 

As an avid tiktok user, it was no surprise to everyone when you discovered the existence of tiktok live. You found a lot more enjoyment in sitting and chatting to people than learning choreography for a fifteen second dance video. Since then, you’ve become synonymous amongst the team as being the “live-streamer”, and they would often ask you when your next livestream session will be just so they can annoy you in the comments. Lately, you’ve started inviting some of your teammates to the livestreams as guests or as background entertainment, much to the enjoyment of the fans. 

but without a doubt your favourite livestream partner was your girlfriend– Leah. 

Leah didn’t really understand why you enjoyed live-streaming so much. Talking to strangers and answering the most random questions for almost an hour straight did not appeal to the blonde, but she didn’t mind sitting with you through it. You would usually ask her if she was up for it beforehand, but other times your girlfriend will surprise you (and the viewers) just by plopping down on the sofa right next to you and smiling at the camera. Comments would be flooded with “ask Leah to join!” “Leah!! Omg!!!” “Nooo come back Leah” but you would just laugh them off and say she’s busy.

You knew the Arsenal fans adored you but the fans’ love and adoration for their lifelong Gooner is like no other, and you really didn’t mind it. You were more than happy to comply with their demands of seeing your girlfriend from time to time, giving the fans updates on what Leah was up to when they asked.

Today, it was one of your solo livestreams. The whole team had been given the day off and you didn’t feel like making any plans to go out so you and your girlfriend decided to spend the rest of the day at home. Leah initially suggested going out for lunch and visiting a new restaurant that had just opened, but then said she was too lazy to go out so you ended up cooking lunch at home instead. 

lauren.g: heyyyyyy 

meadoooo: no practice today?

nelly: hatty on sunday incoming 

macabeonsnap: invite katie to join you on live!

You giggle at some of the comments. One of your favourite parts of live streaming was the comments from fans and you always try to interact with them when you can. You glance at the top corner of the screen and grin at the numbers popping up. 3.1k.

“Wow. Three thousand of yous already?! I’ve only just started!”

“Anyways– as I was saying” You pull your makeup bag towards you, revealing it the camera. “I thought I would answer some of your questions while I do my makeup– yeah, yes I do have plans later– me and Leah are going out tonight!”

You smile when the comments come through faster now that you’ve mentioned Leah. You can just about read a few comments asking you to invite her as they speedily fly through the screen to make room for the new comments. 

“Leah can’t join us at the minute, guys. She’s busy doing sudoku in the living room” You snicker; thinking of your girlfriend who was currently in the living room, laying comfortably on the sofa, a new sudoku booklet on her lap, and a footy match playing on the tv. You unzip your makeup bag and slowly pull out all the products you are going to use. You turn back to the camera. “You can start sending in some questions and I’ll try to answer them if I can” 

You grab your bottle of tinted moisturizer, shaking the bottle before uncapping it. You pump out an appropriate amount and then dab the product all over your face, smoothing it out with a beauty blender. In the middle of blending the moisturizer, you glance at the comments. 

genevieve382773: yeahhh the beauty influencer !!!!!!

redwhitefc: babe it might be time to clean that beauty blender 

stargirl23: y/n are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten-I-see  

gooners(taylor’s version): blend blend blend 

You practically cackle at the pick up line, head thrown back and everything. It was such a perfect pick-up line for you considering you wear the number 10 for Arsenal. You didn’t even hear the sound of Leah opening your shards bedroom door until she speaks up. “Right what’s going on here then? You’re having too much fun without me”

“Love! I–“ You start but you burst into laughing again when you think back to the pick-up line. You wave her over to you, tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. Your girlfriend walks the short distance and stands by you. When she spots your phone on titkok live on the dresser, she leans down slightly so she is in frame and gives the camera a quick wave. 

The comments go crazy. 

“What’s got my missus laughing like that, eh?” Leah playfully furrows her eyebrows at the camera, trying to look intimidating, but her messy bun and lion king pyjama top is doing her no favours. 

Eventually you calm yourself enough to explain the comment and the pick up line, somehow managing to be coherent enough for Leah to understand the gist of it. 

“Right that’s actually quite funny“ Leah shakes her head in amusement and grins at the camera. “But quit flirting with my girl. That’s enough, yeah” 

olly:  okay jelly shelly omg

milodino: MY GIRL??? chat is this true???

stargirl21: leave her for me y/n. I can ride a bike !!!!

emiiiily: that's literally my wife. come home y/n the kids miss you

↪ starry replies to milodino: they're lesbians, milodino. 

just.woso: the comments ijbol 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“What did you need, love?” You dab the corner of your eyes, finally calming down. You watch with fond eyes as Leah shakes her head lightly, looking down at you from her standing position beside you. She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear sweetly. “Nothing, just wanted to see you.” 

Then she turns to the camera. “But you’re clearly busy, so I’ll come back later.”

Leah drops a quick kiss to the side of your head, gives the camera a mock two-finger salut and leaves the room, closing the door gently behind her. 

You press your lips together, trying to smother the grin that was threatening to escape your lips. Even after months of being together and spending most of your time with each other, your girlfriend still gave you butterflies. 

Taking the tube of concealer, you lightly dabbed it under your eyes and over any blemishes, blending it seamlessly with the beauty blender. Then, you grab your favourite tube of liquid blush, a shade of rosy red, to add a hint of colour to your cheeks. Finally, you brush on a coat of black mascara to enhance your lashes, framing your eyes with subtle definition. You would periodically turn to the comments, answering a few questions when you can, before turning back to your mirror to focus on your makeup. As you lean back slightly to scrutinise your finish look, you suddenly remember something. 

“Oh right!” You scramble off your chair and run into your closet, grabbing the item that you were looking for from inside your bag. You race back to the room, your hair slightly frizzy from your sudden rush, and proudly show off the item to your livestream of nearly 5 thousand viewers. “I bought this lip plumper thing the other day and I’ve been wanting to try it out”

You settle back into your chair, releasing the lip plumper from the confines of it’s box. When you read a comment asking you about the name of the lip plumper, you roll the tube in your hands, trying to find the name of the brand.

“Do you know what guys– this thing was expensive! But I saw a tiktok video and just had to— I was influenced alright!” 

You pick up the box, inspecting the text at the back. “La Mer’s Lip Volumiser utilises its exclusive lip-plumping Renewal Complex blah blah blah….this serum-strength lip treatment is powered by La Mer’s cell-renewing Miracle Broth, a marine-powered fermented patent powered by sustainably-grown Pacific Sea Kelp hand-harvested from Vancouver Island’s surrounding waters…”

You glance at the camera, confusion written all over your face. “What the hell am I reading”

emmylemony: girl we don’t know you’re the one reading it

michaylaaaaaaaa: £72?!?!?

wosoforthegirlies: I understood nothing

russoairways: bro why are you putting sea kelp on your lips 

↪ bellasbaee replies to michaylaaaaaaaa: SEVENTY TWO GREAT BRITISH POUNDS?!?

“Anyways. This thing” You discard the box to the side and wave the tube in the air. “is supposed to make my lips look good, so let’s try it out”

Your fingers dance over the smooth surface of the cap before you twist it open, feeling a satisfying click. You pull the applicator loaded with the product away from the tube, carefully swiping the gloss across your bottom lip and then doing the same for your top lip. You lightly press your lips together, spreading the gloss evenly, feeling the rich, yet slightly sticky texture. 

At first glance your lips glistened with a perfect sheen, the subtle pink tint enhancing their natural colour.

You turn back to the livestream, pouting your lips towards the camera playfully. “Okay. It’s on– what do we think?”

Smiling at the flood of comments of fans, it’s mostly compliments but you catch a few questioning whether you can feel the spicy, plumping effect yet. 

“My lips are actually burning now” You laugh, touching the slide of your lips with your thumb, cleaning away any excess product. The gloss now feels cool on your lips, the tingling sensation begin to take effect. “But I’m not sure if my lips actually look…plumper?”

Just as those words leave your lips, you hear the door to your room open again. You glance towards it, smiling when your girlfriend cheekily winks at you before she heads straight into your shared walk in closet. 

“Baby, we’re leaving in an hour by the way! Reservations at seven!” You hear from the closet. You hum aloud in agreement, far to engrossed at your shiny new tingly lips and the comments on the live. 

“Right” You clap your hands together, leaning back slightly and fixing your hair. “This is my makeup for tonight’s date. I honestly don’t wear a lot of makeup because I usually end up falling asleep with it on– don’t do that kids– also…”

You get distracted when you see catch Leah walking out of the closet in your peripheral. She has changed out of her loungewear and was already dressed for tonight’s date– and she looks damn good. She was wearing a classic black button-down linen shirt, slightly oversized, with sleeves she had rolled up to her elbows, revealing the simple gold bracelet that you had given her for her birthday that year. On her left wrist, she sported her sleek Rolex watch, the one she never leaves the house without, and an extra thin black hair-tie for your sake– you are always looking for one and she wants to be prepared. She has left the top few buttons undone, showcasing a delicate gold necklace with your initials, that rested just above her collarbone. 

The matching shorts completed the co-ord, cinched at the waist with a drawstring that was tied into a neat bow. The shorts were tailored enough to look polished but loose enough to maintain the relaxed, effortless style Leah has been into lately. She paired the outfit with her favourite pair of white leather trainers, and her staple pair of arsenal cannon earrings.

You watch as your girlfriend walks over to where you were still seated by your vanity, snatching her bottle of perfume and popping the cap off. 

Shit, she was hot. 

Leah is, in your humble opinion, the most attractive person you had ever laid eyes on. Her eyes are a piercing shade of blue, framed by naturally long, dark lashes that flutter with every movement. Her nose is straight and slender, and sits above a pair of full, expressive lips that often break into an easy confident smile in front of the cameras, or a smug smirk when she’s in the mood to tease you. Her jawline is defined and her neck is slender, a personal favourite of yours, proven by the amount of kisses and hickeys you like to bestow upon it neck frequently. 

You watch as she cranes her neck slightly, spraying a few spritzes of perfume on both sides. You feel the sudden urge to deliver a sweet bite on the spot on her neck that makes her moan.

And she probably sensed your thoughts because she held your gaze, that familiar smirk on her lips, before she gestured to your on-going livestream with a nudge of her chin. Oh!

You risk a glance at the comments. 

mollie_mae: girl we’re still here…

stargirl23: Was that Leah that walked over? 

tilly: She was definitely looking at leah 

bellasbaee: GET A ROOM 

lessisflyingboots: same y/n. same. 

kryystal: GET LEAH ON PLEEK

“Anyways I’m about to end the video here! Thanks for spending time with me and letting me yap on about things…”

Leah walks over, crouching down beside you and cages you in her arms. She flashes a quick smile at the camera before turning to you, smiling fondly and whispering “my yapping yapper”

She leans over and kisses you sweetly. 

But then abruptly pulls away for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, her lips smacking together. You were about to make a joke about how you had brushed your teeth earlier but then she speaks

“What the fuck?” You girlfriend mutters in a low voice, leaning back slightly away from you.

She grabs a hold of your head with both hands, leans forward and kisses you again, taking your lower lip in her mouth and sucking on it lightly. She pulls back and this time her face is contorted in pure disgust. “Baby, what the fuck is that on your lips?”

Leah takes the bottom edge of her shirt, pulling it up and wiping her lips against it aggressively. Good thing she wasn’t standing directly in front of the camera or else she would’ve flashed her abs to nearly 7k people. When she’s had enough of exfoliating her lips clean, she lets her shirt fall and glares up at you. 

“Get that shit off your lips” Leah demands, one finger raised and pointed. She crosses her arms over her chest, her blue eyes glancing down periodically at your lips with a look of digest on her face. Her eyebrows are still knitted together furiously. 

You raise an eyebrow of your own at her, mirroring her crossed arms. “Excuse me?”

“m’not kissing you with that all over your lips, mate.” Your girlfriend gets up from her crouched position, spins on her heel and practically marches out the door to your bedroom, leaving you completely dumbfounded.  

You glance at your phone and nearly crack a smile at how quickly the comments were coming in. If it was any other time, you would be more than happy to laugh along with fans who were obviously very entertained by Leah’s reaction to the lip plumper, but you knew it would be wrong to continue any further. 

sofiamia: NEEED A GIRLFRIEDN PLS

eveliiiina: They are so cute wtf

jojo_mojo: okay who want me??????

Awfc4me: JBCEWHCIBALCHC CUTE

“Right, I’m actually going to end the stream here” You hover your finger over the end button. “Thanks again for joining me. Bye everyone!” You muster a quick wave at the camera, blowing a quick kiss, and then click the button to end the live. You lock your phone, placing it face up on the dresser. 

You were just about to call out for Leah when you hear her stomping back into the room. She trudges over to you, and holds out a wad of tissues. You glance at the tissues hovering in front of your face, and then eye your girlfriend. “What are these for?”

“Wipe that shit off.”

“No.” You lean back on your chair. You had just bought this lip product and it was stupidly expensive. You weren’t about to wipe it off just because your girlfriend was having a tantrum. “I just put it on, Lee” 

“Well then it won’t be hard to take off, will it” Her mild Milton Keynes accent intensifies when she’s upset. Her vowels are shorter and her speech becomes faster, almost slurring her words together, exactly as she was doing right now.

“Lee–“

“Baby, my lips tingled.” Part of you wants to giggle at how utterly fed up she looks. Another part of you couldn’t help but admire how attractive your girlfriend look when she’s all worked up

but now was not the time. 

"Lips aren’t supposed to tingle and burn y’know” She continues, gesturing wildly at her own lips. 

You roll your eyes. Leave it to your girlfriend to exaggerate things. “Love, it’s just a lip plumper…”

“A what? Baby, you don’t need that” Leah bends down slightly in front of you, your eyes now levelled. You watch as her eyes focus in on your lips, slightly glazed over, almost as if in a trance. “Your lips are perfect as they are” She mutters.

Your girlfriend thumbs the corner of your lips, before moving to caress your bottom lip. There's a familiar softness in her gaze, a look only reserved for you. She moves her gaze from your lips to the rest of your face; her pupils are dilated, letting in more light as if they are trying to absorb every detail of you before they settle on your lips again. Your lips which are still wet and shiny from the gloss. Your breath catches at the intensity of her gaze. You feel her thumb swiping at your bottom lip gently– intimately– and you think it’s sweet at first but then you realise–

“Oi! You’re wiping it off, Lee!” You recoil away from her touch, scowling up at her. 

“s’sticky too. bloody hell” She mutters, more to herself. She’s wiping her thumb on her shirt so aggressively you wouldn’t be surprised if she managed to burn a hole into it. 

She stops briefly to look at you again. “Baby, how am I supposed to kiss you when you wear that stuff”

“No one said you had to stop kissing me”

Leah glances down at your lips again, cringing slightly at the shine that still lingers on your bottom lip. 

Looks like she didn’t wipe it all off. 

Your girlfriend closes the distance between you, cupping your face in her hands. She freezes for a moment and wets her own lips, her furrowed eyebrows– a familiar determined look on her face– and you open your mouth, ready to cut off whatever shit she’s about to spew, but her lips meet yours before you can get any words out.

Leah’s lips meet yours hastily this time, as if she is a woman starved. From the months of being together, you have come to know just how skilled of a kisser your girlfriend is. You are more than happy to follow her lead, often trusting her to lead the kiss since she’s so good at it. She can kiss softly, gently, when the mood is right– prolonging the intimacy of a dance only the both of you are a part of. She would direct your head with a steady hand, tilting it ever so slightly so she can kiss you much deeper. Her lips would part deliberately, gently slotting between yours with careful ease because she wants it to be perfect for you every single time.

But other times, Leah was a little…rougher. She would kiss you like she was about to devour you, like you were the last meal on earth served up to her in a shiny silver platter. Often times it was messy, sloppy and the sounds you both made could made a priest in a confession booth blush. If a moan slips out, she would reward you with a low chuckle, smiling into your lips before she would go back to devouring you. Her hands would travel down to you hips, waist– ass– squeezing and groping any sliver of your skin she can. She doesn’t like to pull away first, often letting out a groan of disapproval when you make the move to end the kiss. The only time Leah would ever end the kiss first is if so she can admire the rosy flush of your cheeks, and the way you always take a second or two longer to open your eyes again, eyes hooded with a drunken grin on your face. 

The way she was kissing you right now was a mix of the two. Sloppy, but gentle. She’s leading the kiss, and you have no choice but to follow. One hand is tilting your head slightly, but the other hand has started the journey down to you waist where she gives it a quick squeeze, pulling your body even closer. Your hands are on her hips– fingers grasping the fabric of her shirt, mainly because you have to be touching her too, but also so you can steady yourself against the intensity of it all. 

Leah finally pulls away, ending the kiss with one last, sharp, teasing bite to your bottom lip. Your eyes are hooded when she pulls away, and you can see her smirk slightly when she sees the lack of lip product on your lips. 

She kissed it all off. 

You watch as your girlfriend smacks her lips together, probably tasting a bit of the gloss, but the furrow of her eyebrows is gone. Leah presses her lips against yours, giving you one more smacking kiss, almost putting you off balance by the sheer force of it. She smiles down at you adoringly, loving that dazed look in your eyes because she was the cause of that.

She cradles your face to one side, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and baring your neck to her. She lays one wet kiss to that sensitive spot on your neck before you feel her lips move up to your ear. 

“…it’s going in the bin, baby.” 

Before you could fully process what your girlfriend had just confessed, the girl had already snatched the lip plumper from where it was sitting on your desk, and was speeding out the door. 

You could only stare at the slightly swinging door in disbelief before you force yourself to snap out of your leah-drunk haze, and sprint out the door right after her. 

“YOU CHEEKY FUCKER! GIVE IT BACK”

made this slightly longer as a little treat for leaving yall hanging last month lol. pls forgive me <3

it's been nice and sunny lately so im hoping this lasts until the end of the week, but you never know with the weather around here. hope everyone's has a great week ahead.

thank you for being so patient and being here. I appreciate you more than you know,

-- kisses, butter.

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[chenfleur]

dreamy nights

pairing. streamer!jake x y/n ⇝ ft twitch chat

genre. fluff, twitch streamer au

word count. 1.9k

released. 10.18.2023

author’s note. i don't know if this requires context but just in case: a subathon is a stream where each time the streamer gets a sub, it adds time to the length of the stream!

masterlist

"That's not how the game works, chat!"

Even with a door separating you, Jake's whines still manage to reach your ears. Pushing down a smile, you delicately knock your first against the cold wood before slowly pushing in.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with the only source of light being the two large monitor screens set up; they're terribly blinding, causing you to recoil ever so slightly.

Too invested in the game in front of him, your boyfriend doesn't notice you've entered the room. This realization dawns on you, and instead of making your way towards him like you'd originally planned, you lean your weight against his doorway, simply watching him.

A fond smile dances on your lips.

The subathon's something he's been planning for ages.

It's something he had promised to his viewers, promised to himself that he'd carry out at least once in his streaming career. He's taken practically everything into consideration—what games he'd play, what guests he'd bring onto his stream, what would serve as entertainment while he's asleep. At the end, a chunk of the proceeds would go towards your local children's charity.

"Why?" you'd asked when he initially introduced the idea months ago.

He'd brought it up over some late night takeout—the two of you sharing food with distant sounds of traffic and quiet, curious conversations woven in between.

The plastic bag rustled as Jake pulled it closer to him, reaching in and taking out two bubble teas. As he slid your drink over to you, he had replied softly:

"Because I don't remember a time where I haven't wanted to do this. I've been given the privilege to give back to all of the people who have made my dream come true. I want this."

Jake Sim never fails to amaze you. You can't fathom how someone has been crafted with so much raw kindness—much less that you had managed to land that someone as your better half.

ari_01: look behind you bozo

"Look behind you, bozo- huh?"

Jake hastily spins his chair around. His eyes search through the dark before landing on you, tucked away in the safety of his doorway.

The sight of you eliminates tension in his body that he didn't even realize existed. A soft smile finds its way onto his face at the way your figure is illuminated from the pale blue glow of his monitor screens.

"Hi, beautiful."

It's been years and he still manages to make you reel at the simplest of compliments.

"Hi," you whisper back.

Turning back towards his monitor, Jake pauses his game. "Alright chat, Y/N's here. She's still a bit camera shy, so no monkey business, okay? You'll scare her," he scolds. You have to press a hand to your mouth to contain your laughter.

milkbread: MONKEY BUSINESS?

user1993: jake get out we want y/n

mariluvr: OMG ITS THE PRETTY GIRL!!! HIHIHIIIIIII

Jake playfully rolls his eyes before beckoning for you to join him. You oblige, pulling out a chair from the side and taking a seat. Habitually your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining underneath the desk.

"Hi chat," you greet, a smile growing on your face as an influx of enthusiastic greeting messages appear on the screen.

A huff sounds from beside you. "Gosh, they're never this excited to see me."

"Don't dwell on it. I'm just naturally likeable," you tease, casting a brief glance off to the side. You expect a retort, yet it never comes.

Instead, you feel a squeeze of your hand. "How come you're up? It's late."

You purse your lips together, embarrassment filling your body at the thought of being in front of an audience of thousands of people.

"Go on," Jake presses.

"Just... missed you."

Jake swears his entire stream can see the way your words makes him melt into a puddle. He tries to—and fails spectacularly at—keeping his smile at bay.

"Yeah? Missed me?" he whispers. You nod, head lowered.

It's day four of what Jake had predicted to be an around week-long endeavour, but clearly he's underestimated how much his viewers love him (or hate him?) as the timer seems to see no end in sight. The only moments you've really gotten to spend with him over the course of the past few days are when he stumbles into bed late at night.

You've spent longer time periods apart, but you're still stirred by longing.

A small sigh leaves his lips. He runs his tongue over his teeth before lightly tugging you towards him.

"C'mere," he says, motioning towards his lap.

You look at him in bewilderment, reluctance etching itself into each of your facial features. "Jake, you're streaming-"

"Mmm," he hums, shaking his head childishly. "Don't care. They already know how far I'm gone. Besides, I need to prove them wrong—they keep calling me rizzless."

A laugh leaves your lips, but you still don't make any move towards him. Sensing your unwillingness, he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to encourage you.

"It's okay," he cooes. "It's okay, I promise."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, as if challenging one another. His gaze is heavy on you, and eventually, you find yourself folding.

Carefully, you place yourself into his lap, the warmth emanating off of him instantly making you relax. His arms wrap around you loosely, resting on the curve of your hips.

"Stop subbing, chat. You're making my girlfriend miss me."

h3artz: i will literally gift 20 rn. do not start

minlmn: sounds like smth a PISSBABY would say

user0304: think about the children jake

"Think about the childr- Okay! Okay. Of course, for the kids," he laughs, rolling his eyes before redirecting his attention to you.

"Tired?" he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You nod, sinking further into his embrace. "Are you gonna start up the mods segment soon?" you mumble into the soft fabric of his sweater.

Whenever it's time for him to go to bed, his moderators take over the stream for the night to ensure that there's always something going on—whether that's playing games or hosting a makeshift podcast.

"Yeah, soon. Via told me she wasn't available until midnight, so just a little longer. Then we can go to bed," he whispers, fingers gently tapping a rhythm on your lower back. When he feels you nod against him, he turns his attention back to his screen.

mi11: u guys r the reason why i believe in love

urmom123: BOOOOOOO YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE LAME LIKE THE REST OF US #NOTMYSTREAMER

streetfighter: u literally played league for 8 hours yesterday... what am i doing wrong with my life...

"Chat, stop being annoying. You should be happy for me," Jake grumbles. "And hey, to any league players out there-" he points at his webcam. "This is a sign. Don't lose hope, soldiers."

You erupt into soft laughter, removing your face from the crook of his neck and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Shut the hell up," you groan, eliciting a loud laugh from him.

Eyes scanning the live chat, you point out a message. "Look, Jake. Someone said 'not my streamer'," you snort.

"I'm used to it. I think I was collectively disowned yesterday during Uno."

"I heard about that from Jay. You must really suck at Uno."

He grins, hands travelling up to your waist. "But you still love me right?"

You scoff incredulously. "I loved you when you wore highlighter clothing to school everyday. It's going to take more than sucking at Uno for me to stop loving you, idiot."

Jake affectionately pinches your sides, causing you to yelp. Scowling, you begin to berate your snickering boyfriend before the sound of a notification interrupts you.

Upon reading it, Jake groans. "Oh, lord. Thank you for the twenty gifted."

You watch as the timer instantly shoots up another two hours, making your boyfriend close his eyes in defeat, leaning his head back against the headrest of his chair. Smiling, you brush some hair out of his face.

"They keep subbing," he whines. "It's like they enjoy watching my suffering."

You chuckle. "I don't think you should be badmouthing them. They're the ones who fund your stupid financial decisions, like buying a cardboard cutout of Heeseung. Which, by the way, came in today."

"Oh. You weren't supposed to see that."

"What is that even for?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

The two of you spend some more time talking with chat. You share what you've been doing for the past few days since Jake's been preoccupied with the subathon, recounting the bowling night you did with Jay and Sunghoon the other day. It takes you physically shutting Jake up with your hand to make him stop whining.

Exhaustion finally fully catches up to you, making you yawn. Jake watches you fondly before turning towards his monitor and swiftly muting his microphone.

"Go to bed," he coaxes, a hand smoothing over your hair.

You nod drowsily, slowly peeling yourself up from his hold. "Okay. Bye, chat."

"Mic's muted, baby."

"Oh."

You settle for some waves towards the camera, watching as messages bidding you goodnight flood in with a small smile. You think that you're incredibly lucky to be so well-received by his chat.

Jake's hand lingers on the small of your back. "I'll come join you in a bit, okay? I love you."

"Love you too," you mumble.

You begin to step towards the exit when suddenly, you're jerked backwards. A yell would've escaped you if it weren't for the fact that in a fraction of a second, your lips are on Jake's.

One of his hands is at the back of your neck gently pulling you down towards him, while the other one comes up into your hair.

For a second, you completely forget that you're on camera. The feeling of his plush lips on yours overwhelms you—your mind can't help but go blank.

But when that second is over, your eyes immediately snap open. You push at his shoulders, quickly stepping away from him. A scowl overtakes your face as he snickers at your reaction.

You flush crimson. "Next time, if you're going do that, turn off your webcam," you hiss.

"Mhm. Whatever you say, angel."

When you stumble out the door and frantically close it behind you, Jake turns back towards his stream and unmutes his microphone.

user899: MY EYES

redskies: highway looking so comfy rn

plays101: mom and dad get a fucking ROOM challenge

user555: this guy's asking to be slammed with a ban LMAO

Leaning back in his chair with a slight smirk, Jake's hands rest behind his head.

"Relax, chat. I'm not going to get banned. You know-" he pauses, his bottom lip between his teeth as he fails to contain his smile for the hundredth time since you appeared.

Jake hears you turn on the sink in the bathroom, yet the ghost of your presence still lingers in the way his body is still warm from your touch—the way he can smell the citrusy undertones of your shampoo.

"...that's what love is. Makes you do all sorts of stupid shit."

[kingkatsuki]

— when you get him a birthday cake

Masterlist.

It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺

Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.7k.

Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).

But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.

How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?

Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.

By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.

“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.

“I left you a coffee on your desk.”

God, you really were the best part about his day.

You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.

It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.

“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.

Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.

“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.

Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.

And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.

“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.

“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”

“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.

“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”

You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.

“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”

“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”

“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”

You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.

“It looks like shit.” He smirked.

“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”

It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.

“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”

“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”

“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.

“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.

“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”

He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.

“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.

“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.

If he could ever tell you.

[undertheorangetree]

Conquerors Reborn

Summary- Helaena has a plan to ensure her favourite lady-in-waiting remains at court.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. DUBCON due to persuasion. Female reader. Threesome. Overthinking. Cunnilingus. Vaginal fingering. Handjob. P in V sex. Loss of virginity. Targcest. Praise kink. Titty sucking.

Author’s Note- debatably the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written besties and it’s suffered a handful of rewrites. Link to the full story belowwww

dividers by firefly-graphics

"I know something you don't know," a familiar voice sings.

She looks up from her needlepoint just as Helaena collapses beside her, her skirts spreading out like a large pink puddle in the grass. She adjusts her own to make room for her, waits as Helaena shuffles closer and rests a hand on her leg in greeting while she sets her needlework aside.

"I imagine you know many things I do not."

Immediately, Helaena shakes her head. "Not about court. I know something you do not about court."

She smiles at the excitement in the princess's voice. "Will you tell me then?"

"Mother has decided it is time for Aemond to marry. They're going to start searching for a wife immediately."

She feels herself tilt her head, brows drawn. That is not the news she had been expecting Helaena to relay, especially when it has not been so long since she and Aegon had been wed. That had been a grand affair- though smaller than Princess Rhaenyra's wedding had been to the late Prince Laenor, she heard- and she had overheard the maester of coin complaining of the expense during the festivities. She had not thought another royal wedding to be on the horizon for quite some time.

Despite the shock, she tries not to let it show lest she ruin Helaena's good mood. "Are they? I imagine you'll be receiving a rather large influx of invitations in the coming days then. That and plenty of new friends vying for your attention."

It is common knowledge that the prince favours his sister over his brother. Should someone wish to earn the prince's favour, it would be easily won by spending time with the princess, showing interest in the things she enjoys and having her present the idea of a betrothal to the prince. He would be hard pressed to deny her when he so enjoys making her happy, something she has been witness to more than once.

What is not so well known is the intimate relationship Helaena shares with him, of the fact that she lays with him as often as she does her. Aegon has always taken to warming the bed of every servant, whore, and noble lady who would have him and it had been agreed early into their betrothal that Helaena could bed whomever she wanted so long as it didn't threaten the legitimacy of any children. Becoming Helaena's lover had been an easy choice for her but she had never asked for details concerning her nights with Aemond.

Helaena purses her lips, reaching up to take her hand. "I do not want new friends. I have you, that is all I need."

They are much more than simply friends but she does not bother to contradict her. If she looks closely enough, she can still see the edge of the bruise her mouth left behind on Helaena's breast, just peeking over the edge of her bodice. The sight of it brings a small grin to her face and she squeezes Helaena’s hand comfortingly.

"You are all I ever needed."

Read the rest here

[tragedybunny]

A Little More Than a Nibble - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion wakes you up at camp looking for a late night snack. You both end up with something a little more. (Fluff, Angst)

Yes I'm on the Astarion train. How can you not love him?

This short is set before Astarion's act 2 confession

Something called to you from the dark, stirring you out of sleep. Fragments of the waking world brushed against your consciousness; a dying fire, a far off owl calling, a presence hovering over you. The cold influx of terror lasts only a moment as you realize the presence is not only familiar but expected at this point. “Are you awake darling?” Astarion’s voice exudes the beguiling charm that’s become so familiar to you, familiar enough you’ve started to catch the hint of artifice that lays behind it.

Sleep-heavy eyes drift open to find him kneeling down next to you, red eyes fixed on you. The deep slumber is hard to shake off and your answer is no more than a drowsy whisper. “I am now.”

“Oh apologies my sweet but I was just wondering if…” He lets the words hang for a moment, waiting for your mind to catch up, to finish the implication. Really though it could only be about one of two things since you’re the one in camp that’s been both fucking and feeding him. And with the ungodly hour, you can easily conclude which it is.

“No luck hunting?” He deserves at least a little teasing for waking you like this.

“Actually I was thinking about you and couldn’t get the taste of you off my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I had just a little taste, just a slight nibble?” Perhaps you’ve been too indulgent with him and he’s grown used to getting his way with you, a habit you really should put to an end. If only the mere suggestion of those teeth at your neck didn’t make you quiver with excitement.

Still, it won’t do to placidly let him have his way every time. “You say slight nibble, and I wake up woozy the next morning. I fail to see what I get out of this little arrangement.”

For a moment, you think you see the slightest hint of hurt at your refusal, before he swiftly resumes his flirtatious persona. “Why, you get my gratitude and affection. Both of which are undying, I might remind you.”

It’s not the honeyed words that convince you, it’s the ghost of an emotion, the possibility of vulnerability, that there’s something beneath the mask he shows everyone, even you. Not that you would really refuse, you’re too far gone for that. Life as the daughter of a noble house of Baldur’s Gate primed you for this, to fall for a man so wrong, and dangerous, and not at all anything you should want. Rebellion after years of complicity, years of forced perfection and crafted smiles, of doing everything expected of you. The Illithid ship had given you a terrible burden, but it had also been more freedom than you’d ever known in your life. Freedom that didn’t necessarily come with inbuilt wisdom. Silently, you throw back the covers, beckoning him into the bed roll beside you. With a satisfied smile, he gracefully slides in, body pressed against yours.

The first time you’d let him do this it had been awkward, sloppy almost, a fact explained by the later revelation you were his first. Now familiarity has led to comfort, intimacy of its own sort. Different than just sex, but no less thrilling. An arm around your waist, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, lips brushing up against it in a gentle kiss first that makes you shiver before the bite.

The sharp ice of those teeth piece your skin and drive into the blood flowing in your veins. Then you feel it, the echo of your blood flowing into his veins. It had frightened you the first time but now it sends a wave of bliss through you. An involuntary sigh escapes you and you know if his mouth wasn’t full, he’d be tormenting you for how much you enjoy it. Arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him tighter against you, as though you are begging for more. You are though aren’t you? You can’t get enough of this, of him.

Drifting away, you lose yourself in him, a sweet surrender to an inexorable pull. As promised though, he’s only taken a taste when he lets up, pulling away, and licking any drops from your skin. The control he’s starting to show is impressive, even if it leaves you yearning for the strange connection of his feeding. Knowing that he never lingers after any encounter between the two of you, you unwrap your arms which feel so much heavier now, letting him go. Unexpectedly, he remains, head now resting on your chest, forehead pressed to your cheek. “Not going to eat and run?”

“In such a hurry to be rid of me?” He murmurs, his face hidden so you don’t even have a chance of reading his expression.

You’re not naive, despite what the others might believe. There’s nothing more you expect beyond what already passes between the two of you. Even if you believe you could care for him, he’s not open to you that way. Still, even if the tone is nonchalant, you feel there’s a loneliness behind it he's not quite hiding all the way. “I didn’t say that.” He doesn’t ask directly to stay and you know he won’t, so you pull the covers over the two of you and put your arms back around him and without saying another word.

With a subtle shift, you feel him get near your throat once again before stopping himself. “Perhaps I should go.”

“You don’t have to, I trust you.” Tentatively, you reach a hand up and softly stroke it through his silver hair. First he tenses, and you wait for a reproach for being too tender with him, but none comes. A moment later and you feel the tension release and he relaxes again. Your eyes are heavy, your body desperately craving sleep, but you're afraid there will never be another moment like this, with him so close, and not pushing you away. So you fight to stay conscious, and keep your fingers moving gently as long as he allows it. Sleep comes to claim you again though, and just as the world fades around you, lips brush your collarbone and the arm around your waist holds a little tighter.

The dawn comes, and the camp stirs. When you find the empty space in your bed roll, you tell yourself your heart doesn’t break a little and get ready to get on with your day.

[kisskourt]

prove it

pairing: shuri udaku x black!fem reader

contains: explicit language, fluff

word count: 2.9k

vibes:

taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @phantomof-themcu @sapphicvqmpires @sapphicjunglefever @playhousedistee @thtgirlllmona @vixentheplanet @dejaonline @prettymrswright

author’s note: i missed shuri sooo much. i’m so happy she came back to me. for the nasty gals, part two will have smut. thanks for reading!

the woman behind the bar eyed the younger woman in front of her. metal and glass clashed as her lanky fingers tapped the rim of her cocktail. on every finger laid a ring—some of diamond, some of a mixture of jewels.

she tapped impatiently, turning her back to the bartender. the aroma of sweaty bodies lingered in the air as the bartender replaced the empty glass with two shots of whisky.

looking out into the crowd, shuri clenched her jaw. her attempt at tracking you down with solely her eyes was proving to be a failure. she couldn’t see you but she could smell you, and unfortunately, your scent was growing distant by the second.

“maybe if you take those dark ass shades off, you’d be able to find whoever you’re looking for!” yelled the bartender in shuri’s direction.

shuri turned to face the woman behind the bar, tossing a diamond studded grin her way. “and maybe if you had kept that to yourself, your tip would have been much larger. keep the change.” shuri reached into her blazer and tossed two hundred dollar bills on the counter.

the bartender rolled her eyes as she picked up the cash. her eyes scanned shuri in disbelief. the king’s tip was generous, unlike her demeanor.

“assholes like you are always good looking.” the older woman replied as she turnt on her heel to greet the influx of customers darting towards the bar.

the whiskey’s intensity matched the fire that brewed inside of shuri’s chest. her skin was hot, full of rage and tension. shuri licked her lips as she used her hand to brush off a piece of lint from her pants.

prior to your arrival, you spent the evening scrubbing dishes, sweeping, and mopping. you and shuri did a decent job at maintaining your shared apartment by assigning tasks to each other. but lately, shuri hadn’t been around.

it started off small—an extra ten minutes added to her council meetings turned into twenty. as a result of the extended meetings, her presence in wakanda had become increasingly demanding. a day in wakanda would turn into a week until eventually, the lines between catering to her nation and you merged until the victorious winner landed on top. you loved her nation and her culture. but you could not stop the jealousy that fermented in your gut.

you had stopped texting her during her away trips. she took note of this, and proceeded to call you daily. you answered, annoyingly, which she also took note of.

when you stopped answering her calls, shuri put no thought behind your lack of response. she knew your temperament—this was just one your moments. you’d get over it, after some time. the king figured that you’d missed her, because of course you would, and your stubbornness would run dry, ensuring a phone call from you would be coming soon.

that was three days ago.

on the fourth day of her trip, she discovered that you turned your location off. she was fine with allowing you to have your space, which she soon realized was needed after you two made it official. but your whereabouts served as a makeshift safety net for shuri. she didn’t care where you were, as long as you were safe. her trust in you was undeniable; yet her destain for being alone was fiercer. your presence in her life was the start of a new journey for the king. her wounds, rooted in pain and hatred, slowly began to heal as your relationship became stronger. you curated a space for shuri to be emotional without judgment. she needed you, craved you and your scent like a drug.

and that very smell is how the king found herself at club roxi, one drink and two shots deep, on the prowl for you.

quickly, shuri inhaled your panties. she placed them inside of her inner blazer pocket as she trudged deeper into the sea of bodies.

she didn’t want to be here; shuri hated the club, but you didn’t. you didn’t mind the volume, the stares, the touches. it was all too—

“MUCH! this is much better!” you shouted to kelsie as you clutched your salt rimmed glass. she grinned, twirling her drink in hand as she motioned toward the packed dance floor. the crowd of people moved like one living, breathing organism.

“your drink was free of charge! the bartender kept calling you sexy.” kelsie replied.

you gagged as you took a sip of your drink.

“she looks like she bites people.”

kelsie choked before she erupted in laughter.

since your arrival, shuri’s absence had been lingering in the back of your mind. the distance between the two of you had become too wide to ignore, though you’d made a habit of trying. a part of you wondered if she was thinking about you—if she missed you.

kelsie nudged you playfully.

“come on, you’re here to have fun! let’s dance!” she shouted over the thumping speakers.

you smiled, as you followed her towards the mass of swaying bodies. the rhythm took over, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it—the movement, the music, the freedom. you hadn’t noticed the panther following you from the shadows.

your scent was a guiding thread that shuri had no intention of losing. she weaved through the crowd, the pulse of the music did little to distract her from her mission. her thoughts were wild—anger, frustration, longing, all swirled together in a cocktail of emotion she wasn't used to swallowing. you’d shut her out, and now all she wanted was to be close to you again.

her heart skipped a beat the second she located you.

you were laughing, carefree, and the sight tugged at something deep within her. your laughter was not the driving factor that threw her overboard. it was the woman’s grip on your waist that awoken the demon inside of her.

there you were—dancing, swaying to the music as a woman was pressed up behind you, her hands on your hips, moving in sync with you. her lips were dangerously close to your ear as she whispered something that made you giggle.

for a moment, shuri wondered if you even needed her the way she needed you. but then she saw it—the flash of sadness in your eyes, the way you seemed to hesitate between the beats. you weren't as carefree as you appeared. you missed her, too. something clicked, and shuri realized that all you needed was her attention. all you wanted was her touch. a pair of hands were touching you but they did not belong to her and it infuriated her.

“enough is enough.” shuri growled.

without thinking, shuri pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes locked on you. as she stalked closer, you still hadn’t noticed her. you were too caught up in the rhythm of the music. the woman behind you spun you around, her hands lingering on your waist as she pulled you closer.

you felt the shift in the air before you saw her. it was subtle, like the slightest pressure in the atmosphere. you’ve always been able to feel her presence, even when she’s not saying a word. you turned, as your eyes searched through the flashing lights and moving bodies. and there she was, standing in front of you, dark glasses hiding those pretty eyes of hers. but her posture, her presence—it was unmistakable.

she didn’t say anything at first. she just looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw still clenched. you could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands were balled into fists at her sides. she tried to stay calm, but you could tell she was barely holding it together.

“why are you here, shuri?” you asked, your voice sharp enough to cut through the music. you didn’t bother hiding the frustration in your tone.

“i could ask you the same thing,” she barked back, as she stepped closer.

“i thought we were past running away.”

you scoffed, as you folded your arms across your chest.

“i’m not running away. i’m just… taking a break from my responsibilities. that’s something you seem to do all the time these days.”

shuri winced at your words, but she didn't back down.

“i’m not the one who turned off my location,” she fired back. “i listened to you when you protested wearing the beads and bought this phone instead. you know i don’t like not knowing if you’re safe. i tried using your ancient technology. yet here you stand, testing my patience.”

“and i don’t like feeling like i’m second place in my own relationship!” you snapped back, as the frustration bubbled inside you.

“i get it, shuri. you have responsibilities, your country needs you. but what about me? what about us?”

“us? you just made it clear that there is no us! tell me, y/n, who the fuck is this?!” shuri yelled. her eyes flickered to the girl beside you, who was standing too close for her liking.

you blinked, thrown off by her outburst. “this is—what? shuri, i—“

but shuri wasn’t listening to you. her focus had already shifted to the woman besides you.

“who are you?” her voice was cold, with a dangerous edge to it.

“WHO. ARE. YOU?!?!” shuri shouted in kelsie’s face.

unbeknownst to you, shuri had managed to remove her top grill to relieve herself from the pain of her canine teeth.

as a side effect of taking the herb, when threatened, the panther’s canines grow thicker and longer. the king did not wear her kimyo beads—so naturally, her body became the armor she needed. and it was up to you to stop the panther before she attacked.

kelsie raised her hands in defense. “whoa, hold up!i’m not trying to cause any problems here.”

you quickly stepped between them, as you placed a hand on shuri’s arm. you were trying to diffuse the tension that was in her body.

“shuri, stop. it’s not what you think.”

shuri’s eyes flickered back to you, her expression softened slightly as she searched your face for an explanation.

“then tell me what i’m supposed to think.” she replied. her voice was quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

“because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re having a good time with someone else.”

you sighed, realizing how this must have looked to her.

“shuri, this is kelsie.” you said, as you gestured towards kelsie’s direction.

“she’s a friend. we’ve known each other since forever. we were just cutting up, nothing serious.”

kelsie eagerly noded as she stepped forward with a scared smile on her face.

“no harm was intended. y/n is a little too girly for my liking anyways.” she teased.

“please go find a stud to play with!” you shot back.

the two of you shared a laugh together before kelsie walked back to the bar.

shuri’s tense posture loosened slightly, but her eyes were still narrowed. she was clearly not entirely convinced. “and the dancing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“it was just dancing.”

the silence that was dangling in the air was thick and palpable.

shuri’s face softened as the tension in her body fully loosened. she reached up to take off her sunglasses, revealing the dark, tired eyes that had been hidden behind them. you could see her clearly—the vulnerability, the guilt, the longing.

“i’ve never stopped thinking about you,” her voice was faint, almost pleading.

“i’ve been trying to balance everything, but it’s harder than i thought. i’m not used to… needing someone this much.” she confessed.

her words hit you like a wave as they washed over the anger you desperately wanted to cling to. you wanted to stay mad, to keep your walls up, but the truth was, you’ve missed her too.

“do you see the state that i am in? do you see what being away from you does to me?”

you eyed her as you processed her words. her vulnerability felt raw, unfamiliar. you’ve always known her as the confident, unwavering king of wakanda. but in that moment, she was just shuri—the person you loved, the person who let you slip through her fingers without realizing it.

“do you think saying that changes anything?” you stated, your voice trembling slightly.

“do you really think admitting that you need me after all this time fixes the fact that you made me feel like an afterthought? you left for wakanda last week.”

shuri flinches at your words, her jaw tightened again, but she didn’t retreat. instead, she took a deep breath and stepped closer, close enough that you could smell the familiar scent of her cologne.

“i know i’ve messed up,” she admitted, her voice was rough, but steady.

“i’ve been trying to protect everyone, to be everything for wakanda, for my people… and in the process, i forgot how to be here for you. but i can’t lose you. not like this.”

your throat tightened and for a moment, you didn’t trust yourself to speak. you wanted to believe her. you wanted to believe that the woman standing in front of you is the same one who promised she’d never let you feel alone, even when her world felt like it was falling apart.

shuri took another step closer, her eyes searching yours. “i’ve been running on empty,” she whispered, yet you heard her.

“but i can’t run from this. from you. i need you.”

her words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. you could feel the weight of her gaze, the quiet intensity of her presence. the music, the flashing lights, the crowd—everything faded into the background, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in the tension that’s been building for far too long.

“i’ve needed you too, shuri. but it’s hard to keep needing someone who isn’t around.”

shuri’s eyes softened, and for the first time tonight, you see the guilt etched deeply into her features.

“i know,” she murmurs. “i know I haven’t been here the way you deserve. but i’m here now and i’m not going anywhere.”

you search her face for any hint of insincerity, but all you see is her—your shuri, stripped of all the walls she’s built up around herself. you wanted to believe her, but the hurt was still there, lingering like a bruise.

“how do i know this won’t happen again?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly.

“how do i know that you won’t get caught up in your world and forget about me all over again?”

shuri reached out, hesitating for a moment before she gently cupped your face in her hands. her touch was warm, grounding, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of that connection you’ve missed so much.

“i can’t promise i’ll be perfect,” she said softly. “but i can promise that i’m going to fight for this—for us. i can promise that you’ll never have to wonder if you’re second to anything ever again. i have told the council to refer all of my duties to my assistant.”

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, as you blinked them away, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. you wanted to hold on to your anger, to the hurt that’s been gnawing at you for so long. but as you looked into shuri’s eyes, you realize something: you didn’t want to lose her either.

you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just… i don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

shuri’s thumbs brushed softly against your cheeks as she held your gaze. “you won’t.” she declared. her voice was thick with emotion. “i swear to bast, you won’t.”

and in that moment, standing there with her hands on your face, the weight of the past few weeks seemed to lift, just a little. it’s not perfect. it’s not fixed. but it’s a start.

shuri leaned in, her forehead resting gently against yours. her breath was warm against your skin. “let me prove it to you,” she whispered, as her voice slightly cracked.

“just give me a chance.”

you closed your eyes, feeling the heat of her body so close to yours, the steadiness of her presence. and after a long, painful pause, you finally exhaled.

“okay,” you whispered, your voice soft, but resolute.

“prove it to me.”

shuri pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly.

for the first time in a long while, you let yourself melt into her embrace, the familiar warmth of her touch soothed the ache in your chest.

it’s not everything, not yet—but for now, it’s enough.

you tightened the grip on her hand.

“when did you get an assistant?”

“okoye has many different titles, sthandwa.”

jokingly, you pushed shuri away from you as you laughed.

“it’s in your best interest that she never hears you call her anything other than her name.”

shuri snickered to herself.

“and it’s in your best interest that you start stretching now. i’m not done with you.”

with her hand in yours, shuri guided you out of the club.

“our night has only begun.” shuri declared.

[vxmpyree]

Angst comfort with jealous Nikto? Maybe some comforting Nikto?

friends to something ambiguous guys! friends to something ambiguous and a little heartwrenching! i love friends to will-they-won't-they! anyway sorry if this is kinda odd?? ivebeen in sick and fever dreamy the past couple of days I've worked on this

there's a new man on your squad. the upper brass transferred him from a different squad, citing an influx of inappropriate anger toward certain people.

and the moment he shows up, nikto doesn't like him. there's something about his dark, leering eyes that makes even his skin crawl. but what seals the deal for him is that he immediately goes to talk to you.

he's all over you, every day. he'll squeeze between you and nikto with his trey in the mess hall, pushing nikto out. the man visits you before lights out, stripping you of the little time you have to relax. but worst of all, you don't seem to mind.

nikto knows that this man isn't good news, but he can't point fingers without a good reason. that'd only alienate you further. he stays up for days, digging and digging, only to come out completely empty-handed. god, he must be good at covering up his tracks… or, maybe he just doesn't have anything wrong with him.

this whole ordeal pisses him off. he can't stop thinking about your cheeks warming when you talk to your new friend, and of you dolling yourself up before you see him. oh, nikto just wants to claw his own eyes out!

maybe nikto is just jealous… ah, no. he couldn't be. he doesn't get jealous.

two weeks into your newfound friendship, it dawns on you that nikto isn't hanging around as often as he used to. it's only ever the new guy and you, and if you manage to catch nikto around base, he's brooding and disinterested. you tire of this. you miss your friend-- you miss nikto. what happened to cleaning rifles together and dozing off in eachothers' quarters? you won't stand for this any longer.

it's late at night when you confront him. your spare key still fits into his lock, and you still have to lift the door to open it. he's sitting straight up in bed with wild eyes watching you. he never looks at you like that. nikto always knows when it's you, doesn't he?

you shut the door behind you with a soft click, taking care not to stir anybody nearby. your footfalls are light against the cold, hard floor, and they stop once they reach the side of his bed. he hasn't reached for a firearm or blade of any sort. maybe he isn't as mad as you believed.

you move to sit on the edge of the mattress. what should you say? you had a faint outline for what you planned on confronting him about, but the moment you walked in and saw those wide eyes of his, none of it seemed all that important.

your head turns to look at him. his face is hardly visible under the cover of the dark, but every little shuddering breath gets his point across. he's upset, deeply so, but he can't just say that. he can't just… talk to you. it's never that easy, not for him.

but, you've come to understand him; you know when nikto is upset. and this time, you know why he's upset too.

"…i'm sorry. you need a friend, don't you? i haven't been one," you whisper.

you want to hold him tight and tell him just how sorry you are, but he'd never let you hear the end of it if you did. you know by now that he doesn't like being touched very often.

something brushes against your fingers. they curl as a twitch rolls through your knuckles, but it persists.

it's his hand, his fingers. his scuffed palm moves to lay over the back of your hand, and his nails lightly itch your wrist.

maybe this is still salvageable. jealousy may not be the end of this.