#i feel like Ive scanned him before

[rollickingwren]

NMS in real life

I love the juxtaposition of a bull nilgai's delicately featured little cow face with their fuckoff huge tree trunk neck and body

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ shades of cool ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous, a part two, do you think you���d kill for me, one day? and a part three, ultraviolence.

˚ ༘♡ you stirred, the weight of consciousness creeping back in like a slow, unwelcome sensation. the first thing you noticed was the pain, not sharp, but dull and ever-present, pulsing from your leg in as a painful remnant of what had happened. your eyes fluttered open, and the room before you swam into view, blurred and unfamiliar.

˚ ༘♡ soft, warm light illuminated the bedroom, the golden glow radiating off polished wood and gilded accents. the room was lavish beyond imagination. silk curtains hung in folds along the high windows, their rich, deep hue a stark contrast to the sterile white sheets covering you. the bed beneath you was impossibly soft, its headboard ornate and meticulously carved.

˚ ༘♡ it didn’t feel real.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze dropped to your leg, your breath hitching at the sight of thick, pristine bandages wrapped around your injured knee. the ache was dulled, numbed, and for a minute you thought it was a dream, until the frigid tug of an iv in your arm brought you fully into reality. clear tubing snaked its way from the crook of your elbow to a stand beside the bed, the consistent drip of fluid into your veins the only sound in the unnerving quiet.

˚ ༘♡ panic set in as you scanned the room for answers. sleek medical monitors blinked softly in the corner, their digital hum an eerie companion to the slow rhythm of your heartbeat displayed on the screen. the pure cleanliness of it all, no blood, no chaos, no grimy stairwells, was jarring.

˚ ༘♡ the door creaked open.

˚ ༘♡ your body tensed instantly, your hands gripping the sheets as you turned toward the sound. standing in the doorway was young-il, but something about him was different. he was dressed head to toe in onyx-black now, the sharp lines of his attire immaculate, his presence nearly unrecognizable.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as a sensation of horror surged through your body. you struggled to push yourself up, wincing as the motion sent a jolt of pain through your leg. “you bastard,” you spat, your voice hoarse and trembling with both fury and anguish. “what the hell is this? what did you do?”

˚ ༘♡ his expression was undisturbed, his face composed, as though he hadn’t betrayed you, shot you, and left you to bleed out. his voice was soft when he spoke, almost gentle. “you’re safe now.”

˚ ༘♡ safe? the word felt like an insult, a mockery of everything he had done. “safe?” you snapped, your voice rising despite the weakness in your body. “you shot me! you killed them! where are jung-bae and gi-hun? what happened to them?”

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated, the pause heavy with unspoken truths. “their fate… isn’t yours to worry about,” he said at last, his tone measured, deliberately vague. the non-answer only stoked the fire of your anger, your hands clenching into fists.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t give me that nonsense,” you grimaced. “tell me what happened to them!”

˚ ༘♡ his gaze softened, as if he pitied you. it made your stomach twist. “you’ll have your answers in time,” he said evenly. “but for now, there’s something more important you need to understand.”

˚ ༘♡ your chest heaved with ragged breaths as you glared at him, the venom in your gaze meeting his unnervingly tranquil demeanor. “and what’s that?”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, his shadow stretching across the floor, enveloping you in its reach. “my name isn’t young-il,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an undertone that made your pallid skin crawl. “it’s hwang in-ho. i am the front man, the overseer of these games.”

˚ ༘♡ his words hit you as though it was a physical blow, the weight of their meaning sinking in too slowly, too horribly. your jaw slackened as confusion, revulsion, and fear collided within you. you shook your head, as if denying the truth could erase it.

˚ ༘♡ “no,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “no, that can’t be…”

˚ ༘♡ “it is,” he interrupted, his tone kind, almost soothing, as though he were breaking news to a child. “i know it’s a lot to process, but it’s the truth. everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve seen, it all leads back to me.”

˚ ༘♡ his serenity, his gentleness, only made it worse. you stared at him, horrified, unable to reconcile the man before you with the one who had saved your life, who had stood by your side, who you thought you could trust. your heart pounded in your chest, a desperate beating of denial as his revelation sent cracks through your already fragile world.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, your mind frantically trying to stitch together some coherent explanation for what he was saying. every word felt like a jagged shard, cutting into what little remained of your trust. the man you thought you knew had unraveled into someone monstrous, someone you couldn’t even begin to understand.

˚ ༘♡ “you want answers,” he said quietly, moving to stand at the foot of the bed. his hands rested at his sides, his posture unnervingly relaxed. “then let me give them to you.”

˚ ༘♡ you didn’t reply, your throat too tight to push out words. the tremor in your hands betrayed the dread coursing through you, though you tried to mask it with a glare that had lost its edge.

˚ ༘♡ he let out a desolate breath, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to yours. “a long time ago, i was no different from you or any other contestant for these games. i was desperate, clinging to whatever hope i could find. my wife…” his voice caught, for a split second, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening. “she was pregnant, but she was sick. we didn’t have the money for the treatments she needed. i tried everything, loans, work, begging. nothing was enough.”

˚ ༘♡ you felt a pang of unease, the words pulling at a part of you that didn’t want to empathize, didn’t want to understand.

˚ ༘♡ “when i heard about the games, i saw no other choice,” he continued. “i thought… if i could win, i could save her. i convinced myself it was worth it. the blood, the horror, it would all be justified if it meant saving her.” his eyes grew distant, as though he were watching memories play out before him, each one dragging him deeper into a place he didn’t want to go.

˚ ༘♡ “and you won,” you said bitterly, though your voice lacked strength. the image of him standing victorious in those games twisted your stomach, making you sick. “so why are you here? why are you doing this to other people?”

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening. “i won,” he admitted, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t name. “despite my efforts, my win and the prize money came too late. she died, and so did the baby… our baby. nothing i had done mattered, not the lives i’d taken, not the suffering i endured. it was all for nothing.”

˚ ༘♡ the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable, but it was the coldness in his eyes that terrified you. it was as though the memory of that loss had hollowed him out, leaving behind only shards of the man he once was.

˚ ༘♡ “after she died,” he said, “i had nothing. no one. those behind the games saw that. they saw what i had become, angry, empty, ready to do whatever it took to escape the emptiness. they offered me purpose, a chance to rebuild myself in their ideology. and i took it.”

˚ ༘♡ his admission hung in the air, suffocating and heavy. you wanted to scream at him, to ask how he could justify becoming the very thing that destroyed him, but the words wouldn’t leave your lips.

˚ ༘♡ “and you…” his voice mellowed, and for the first time, his mask of stability cracked only slightly. “you remind me of her. not simply for how you look, but… the way you care. the way you fight, even when everything is against you. there’s a tender beauty in you that i haven’t seen in any soul for years.”

˚ ༘♡ his words sent a chill down your spine. notion idea that he saw any part of his late wife in you was unbearable. you stared at him, horrified, searching his face for any sign of deception, but all you saw was the unsettling truth of his sincerity.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t,” you whispered, your voice quivering with rage. “don’t you dare compare me to your dead wife. don’t you dare use her memory to excuse what you’ve done.”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t flinch, though something appeared in his expression, regret, perhaps, or something deeper. “i’m not excusing it,” he said quietly. “i know what i’ve become. but it doesn’t change what i see.”

˚ ༘♡ you shook your head, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words pressed down on you. the man standing before you wasn’t just a stranger, he was a nightmare, a ghost of the person he once was, and you couldn’t decide which was worse.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t reconcile the man before you with the one who had pulled you out of the fire so many times before. the one who had shielded you, consoled you when you were hurt, and risked his life to save yours. even as he revealed the truth, this sinister, unfathomable truth, a part of you couldn’t forget the way his hands had steadied you in instances of chaos or the way he had spoken to you with warmth when everything else had been so cold.

˚ ༘♡ yet that part of you, small as it was, waged a bitter war with your anger and disgust. you couldn’t ignore what he’d done, what he was. you had seen him kill without hesitation, betray without remorse. yet somehow, despite everything, the memory of his quiet acts of care gnawed at your resolve, complicating the clarity of your rage.

˚ ༘♡ “why?” you demanded, your voice cracking under the weight of everything. “why did you save me if you were just going to do this? why did you act like you cared?”

˚ ༘♡ his expression softened, and for a second, the cold, calculating overseer seemed to fade. in his place was the man who had once held your hand, who had spoken with a gentleness that felt so real you couldn’t dismiss it entirely. “because i do care,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “more than you know.”

˚ ༘♡ you shook your head, tears threatening to spill. “you don’t get to say that,” you whispered, your voice quivering with misery and despair. “not after everything you’ve done. you don’t get to care.”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, the weight of his presence filling the space between you. you wanted to recoil, to push him away, but your body betrayed you, frozen in place. “i know what i am,” he said softly, his tone stable yet tinged with something raw. “i know what i’ve done. but that doesn’t make what i feel for you any less real.”

˚ ༘♡ “don’t,” you murmured, though the word came out weak, your anger faltering under the intensity of his dark gaze. “don’t try to make this about me. you’re just trying to justify…”

˚ ༘♡ “i’m not,” he interrupted, his voice firm but quiet. “i’m not trying to justify anything. i… i couldn’t lose you.”

˚ ༘♡ the confession hung in the air, heavy and morose. you wanted to lash out, to shout at him, to tell him that his words didn’t change anything. but instead, you found yourself searching his face, looking for the lie, the manipulation. and you didn’t find it.

˚ ༘♡ you hated him, but you couldn’t deny that you had trusted him, even cared for him, before the truth came crashing down. those memories, tainted by what you knew now, lingered like ghosts, haunting you in ways you couldn’t escape.

˚ ༘♡ “you don’t get to feel that way about me,” you said, though your voice wavered, lacking the conviction you wanted it to carry.

˚ ༘♡ “i know,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering, his closeness almost unbearable. “but i do.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could think, before you could stop it, he leaned in. the world seemed to still as his face drew closer, his presence overwhelming. you hated him, you loathed him, but the confusion, the anger, the lingering warmth of the man you thought you knew muddled everything.

˚ ༘♡ when his lips met yours, it wasn’t soft or careful. it was desperate, a confession in itself, and against your better judgment, against every screaming thought in your head, you didn’t pull away. instead, you let the infatuation consume you, the bitterness, the anger, the ache of betrayal melding together into something raw and inescapable.

˚ ༘♡ when it broke, you were left shaking, your breaths uneven as you stared at him, your heart pounding with emotions you couldn’t even begin to name. you hated him, but lord, you hated how much you wanted to understand him even more.

a/n: you all asked for another part so i had to write part four!! i had a cosmetic procedure that requires me to stay home for a few days so if you have any requests, this is the time!! i hope you all loved reading!! 🤍

[gyaruhana]

hiiii can i please request a smutty (18+) fic of kang daeho x reader

so the idea is during the first few lights out (when the fights havent started yet) when it was daeho's turn to keep watch while the other slept, he overheard reader (who was in a nearby bed) twisting and turning in bed whilst moaning ang whimpering his name so blablabla things escelate (u can fill that part however u want) and it leads to daeho slowly fucking reader trying to keep quiet as to not wakeup any other players😣😣🙏🙏🙏

bye ive been thinking abt this idea for so long ive just been waiting for someone to write it😭😭😭

Kang Dae-ho/Player 388 - Keep it quiet

Synopsis: How could Dae-ho possibly stay focused when you were right there, moaning his name?

A/N: Finally dropping this Dae-ho fic too !! He's just a cutie really

Warning: smut content, just gently fucking tbh.. actually there's slight somno !!

In a death game like this, the idea of a relationship was the last thing on anyone's mind. Especially with tensions being so high between everyone due to the voting system put in place. You, yourself, were on edge and too focused on the lingering threat of death to divert your attention to other things like romance or friendships.

Most of the time, you stayed close to the little group you had joined with people you trusted now since they had saved you before and kept you safe. However, even with your little group that had a previous winner of these twisted games, you still felt on edge because Gi-hun had stated that an attack from the opposing side was not out of the question. The idea that someone might come and get you when you slept was unsettling but, if someone was going to keep watch with your newly-formed sleeping schedule, you suppose you'd feel much better. Especially if the person keeping watch tonight was Kang Dae-ho.

As much as you tried to avoid thinking about relationships because you could all die tomorrow, you couldn't stop thinking about Dae-ho. You couldn't explain why he made your heart race every time he'd talk to you. Hell, even a simple glance from him was enough to make your cheeks flush red. He just always treated you like a gentleman should treat a girl and you couldn't get him out of your head now. 

Apparently, he even came into your dreams now.

It was lights out and everyone but Dae-ho was asleep. He kept his eyes peeled, looking for anything or anyone suspicious. He wanted to make sure everyone was fine and that nothing was being plotted. It would be a disaster if an attack happened and more people had to lose their lives. He scanned the dark room for any movement that might just be barely noticeable. However, his focus was immediately broken when he heard a whimper.

He snapped his head toward the sound only to see you who was very much still sleeping soundly in bed with the blanket completely encasing you. His eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and worry before he looked away. Maybe he misheard you or you were just dreaming. He was sure you were fine so he didn't think about it again.

Well, at least he wasn't going to think about it until he heard the very clear sound of you moaning his name. His head looked over to you immediately in disbelief. He was in pure shock for a few moments and he sat there still, frozen, trying to process what was happening and whether this was just a dream. He really didn't believe that you were moaning his name so he stood up quietly and walked over to you.

Surely it was a mistake, right? You couldn't actually be moaning his name, right?? But then he heard it again and it made him flinch. He was in total shock once again as he watched you moan his name out and writhe. He had liked you for a while but he didn't think you would reciprocate his feelings. At least, he didn't think you liked him before this. Now it was clear that you did since you were having a less than appropriate dream about him which made you squirm and quietly cry out as you pleaded for more. He'd be lying if he said that your moans of his name didn't make him hard. He could feel his head start to spin at the idea of you needing him so badly - of you needing his cock. 

Fuck, maybe he should wake you up? But he really didn't want you to stop. Your moans were music to his ears and it’d be a shame to make it stop. He stayed still for a moment before coming to a not so smart decision. He slowly climbed onto the bed with you before whispering your name quietly in an attempt to coax you awake slowly. 

It was quiet for a moment and he suddenly got nervous that maybe you had actually woken up. He wasn’t even sure what to say if he did wake you up. He couldn’t just outright say he heard you moaning his name - that would be awkward. Thankfully, you suddenly let out another moan making him sigh quietly in relief. He gently placed one of his hands over your mouth to muffle your voice so as to not have anyone else hear you and wake up. 

He bit his bottom lip as he thought long and hard about what to do next. He knew he probably shouldn't do what his dick wanted him to but he also didn't want to wake you up because you were clearly enjoying the dream. It'd be rude to make it stop. He swallowed nervously before letting out a shaky breath and deciding to just go for it. He could deal with the consequences that may come later. 

Without another thought, he slowly slipped your pants down. He knew it was probably stupid to be doing this but he was so hard and he needed to feel you wrapped around his cock. He quickly pulled his own pants down along with his boxers and crawled on top of you slowly so as not to rouse you from your sleep. He didn't know what was possessing him to do this but he slowly leaned down and gently kissed your neck. The sweet sound that came out of your mouth when he did was muffled by his hand but, God, it still sounded amazing. 

He lowered a hand down to push your panties to the side and he could feel how wet you were, your slick connecting to his fingers. He had to hold back a groan because of it. He couldn't believe you were this wet and all because of him. You must be having a really good dream and Dae-ho convinced himself that it would be a good idea to make it a reality.

He lined himself up with your hole and slowly rubbed his tip up and down to gather your wetness on his cock. “Oh my god..” he said quietly as he felt your hole pulse against him. He wanted to feel you so badly now. The idea of making you moan out his name as he thrust into your tight hole had him going insane. When he pushed his tip in, he swore he almost released on the spot. You were so tight and he had never felt anything so amazing before.

“Baby, you're so tight..” he mumbled as he buried his face into your neck. He slowly inched himself deeper as he bit into your neck to muffle his whines. He was embarrassed by how sensitive he was and how he was getting so loud when he was only halfway inside you. He decided to get it out of the way and finally managed to push all the way in to your cunt. He shut his eyes tight and tried to get used to the overwhelming feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock. HIs hands went to your waist as he gripped it tightly.

He was just about to start moving when he heard you speak. 

“Dae-ho..?” You spoke and, when he looked at you, your eyes were open now. His breath hitched nervously as he looked at you with wide eyes. Fuck, he had been caught. “Shit, I'm sorry. I just heard you making those sounds and I couldn't help myself,” he says as he hides his face in your neck again.

“Please let me fuck you. Please,” he begged as he rolled his hips against yours slightly in order to try to coax you into giving him what he wanted. The sweet moan you let out made it impossible for him to hold back now and he decided that he was going to take what he wanted.

“Shh. We have to be- quiet,” he whispered as he started thrusting into you. Waking someone else up right now was not an option which is why you both needed to be quiet. He made sure to keep his thrusts gentle so you wouldn't be too loud but it honestly made it feel a million times better. You could feel every inch of his cock slowly push in before he pulled all the way out only to thrust back in again.

He let out small grunts into your ear as he kept his slow yet deep pace. You didn’t expect him to be so long but he was. Every time he pushed into your hole, you swore you could feel him fill you up entirely. He slowly slipped his hand underneath your shirt and brought his hand to your chest to squeeze at your tit. 

“You're doing so good for me, baby. Oh my god,” he whispered quietly as he thrust in with a little bit more force. He could feel himself getting closer to a sweet release so he grabbed your thigh and lifted your leg to put it over his shoulder. The new angle made him reach even deeper inside you as he continued to thrust and it was leaving you dizzy with pleasure.

His thrusts slowly became sloppy until he couldn't handle it and started leaving kisses all over your neck to try to mark you desperately. “Please let me cum inside. I wanna pump you full of my cum,” he begged as he started to thrust faster. You mindlessly nodded your head as you put your arms around his neck. In no world would you ever deny Dae-ho the chance of emptying his load into your womb. You’d gladly let him breed you anyday.

Your nod encouraged him to go faster and, before he knew it, he was releasing inside you with a growl. You released with him and he slowed his thrusts down to bring you back down from your high before stopping altogether and collapsing on top of you.

“God, you're so perfect,” he spoke before before bringing his lips to yours and kissing you for the first time that night. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and he poured all his feelings into it. When he finally pulled away after the both of you were breathless, he pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. After a few moments of silence, he smiled and let out a breathless laugh before opening his eyes again.

“I think I love you,”

[aesthetically-dying101]

Not you.

A/N: yeah so atp this is basically a nanami account idk man, ive been mulling over this idea and just.. couldn't not write it.

warnings: she/her usage, mostly fluff and all, rival to lovers? kinda. Things aren't what they seem. i used a bunch of jargon, but idk what the hell it means so... usage of one or two of Y/N

Nanami Kento was a figure who commanded respect the moment he stepped into any room. As the head of the Financial Department, his reputation preceded him. A man of few words, Nanami always carried himself with a certain gravitas, his sharp suit and perfectly styled hair giving off an air of authority.

He was stoic, often leaving the office before anyone had a chance to catch up with him, and in all the time that anyone had worked with him, Nanami had never once mentioned his personal life.

There were rumors, of course—whispers about his wife, about how he was always so distant and so professional. The office was filled with speculation.

Who was she? What was she like? Why did he never speak of her? The only thing anyone knew for certain was that Nanami Kento had no patience for distractions, and his world revolved entirely around his work.

And then there was you—the head of the Operations Department, responsible for overseeing the company’s logistics, product development, and strategic planning.

Your department was vital to the company’s success, just as Nanami’s was, and your work ethic was practically legendary. You were efficient, meticulous and well-put-together—your image just as carefully crafted as Nanami’s.

But unlike Nanami, you didn’t just command respect, you earned it through your quiet authority, your quick intellect, and your ability to get things done.

You rarely discussed your personal life either, but that wasn’t for the same reasons. The office gossips had often speculated about your marriage, or rather, the lack of concrete information about it. You spoke of your husband in passing—always vague, always careful. When asked about him, you would smile softly and say, “He’s a wonderful cook,” or, “He's the best thing that happened to me,” but you never mentioned his name.

To the other employees, you and Nanami were like opposite ends of a magnet—both incredibly powerful in your respective positions but always repelling each other in public.

It was simple, you hated each other.

Allegedly.

*-*

The conference room was filled with the soft hum of hushed conversations as the remaining members of the board filtered in, the meeting about to begin.

The room, with its glass walls and sleek wooden table, seemed to swallow the light, the air thick with unspoken energy. The usual quiet before a presentation had taken on a different tone today—a sort of heavy, expectant stillness.

Everyone knew what this meeting would be like. The air was thick with anticipation, the feeling of two titans preparing to clash.

At the head of the table, Nanami sat with his usual impassive expression. His eyes, sharp and cold as always, scanned over the presentation materials before him, making quick, methodical notes in the margins of his tablet. His hands, large and steady, moved with precision, his posture impeccable. Despite his composed demeanor, there was a slight edge to his usual stoic appearance—his jaw set tighter than usual, his gaze flickering over the documents in front of him but never staying too long in one place.

Across the table, you did the same. Your posture was straight, your fingers tapping lightly against your own tablet- though your eyes remained focused on Nanami as if assessing him.

The subtle tension between the two of you could be felt by anyone in the room who dared to glance between the two of you. You had worked with Nanami for long enough to know how he functioned, but still, there was something about this moment that made you feel the familiar bite of competitive energy.

This wasn’t just business. It was more than that. This was your rivalry—your game.

“You two ready?” The CEO’s voice broke the silence, and everyone turned their attention to him, but all eyes remained glued to you and Nanami.

A brief, almost imperceptible glance passed between you and Nanami before you both nodded.

Nanami spoke first.

“I’ll start with the financial outlook,” he said, his deep voice calm and unwavering. His tone was confident, measured—his usual professional self. No one could ever accuse him of overacting or raising his voice unnecessarily.

That was his strength. Efficiency, precision.

You watched him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you mentally prepared yourself. You knew exactly what he was going to do—reel off the statistics and the metrics, the numbers that made sense but lacked the full scope of the opportunity you were about to present. You weren't going to let him walk away with this meeting.

You wouldn’t let him win.

Not today.

“Based on the projections, our current approach remains sustainable,” Nanami continued, pointing at his presentation slides, his finger steady. “We will continue with conservative growth, minimizing risks while maximizing short-term profitability.”

The numbers slid onto the screen with ease, each one perfectly in place, each calculation undeniably sound. You couldn’t help but appreciate his work. His plans were always tight, methodical—there was never a flaw. But there was also no room for expansion, no room for daring leaps.

That’s where you came in.

With a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, you leaned forward, picking up where he left off.

“I agree with the numbers,” you said smoothly, your voice carrying through the room. “But sustainability doesn’t always mean profitability. If we’re talking about the long-term viability of the company, we need to look at diversification.”

You let the words hang in the air for a moment, then continued, your eyes never leaving his.

“You’ve kept it safe, Nanami. But we’re not here to play it safe. We’re here to grow, to expand. You can only play it safe for so long before the market overtakes us. I say we invest in new international markets, even if it means taking on a bit more risk upfront.”

There was a slight shift in Nanami’s demeanor. A tightening in his jaw. A flare of something in his icy blue eyes. But his expression remained unreadable as he flipped to the next slide.

“And what about the supply chain issues in the Southeast Asia region?” he asked, his voice steady, but there was an edge to it. He wasn’t backing down. “Any suggestions for how we mitigate that risk?”

“More diversification,” you shot back without hesitation, your tone smooth, but firm. “We can’t afford to rely on just one region when there are so many variables outside of our control. What we need is a more global approach—one that doesn’t put all our eggs in one basket.”

The tension in the room was palpable now.

Everyone could feel it. The subtle undercurrent of animosity, the way your words were calculated to provoke, the way Nanami’s responses were sharp, measured, never losing his composure.

There was a reason everyone in the office avoided the two of you when these meetings happened. The air seemed to hum, charged with an energy that made everything else feel distant.

A low murmur swept through the room as Nanami gave his final response.

“Diversification is too risky at this point. We don’t know enough about the regions you’re suggesting, and I don’t intend to make decisions based on speculative information.” His voice was calm but firm. “Without concrete data, we can’t afford to gamble the company’s future.”

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“And I’m saying we won’t have a future if we don’t take risks. Sure, we can stay on this safe path, but it’s the same one we’ve been on for years, and it’ll eventually stagnate.” You leaned forward, pushing the point. “We need to be ahead of the curve, Nanami, or we’ll get swallowed up by the competition. The world doesn’t wait for us to get comfortable.”

There was a long pause. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Nanami’s counterattack.

“You’re assuming the worst-case scenario,” Nanami replied, his voice still calm but with a subtle bite to it. “I don’t deal in worst-case scenarios. I deal in facts. And the fact is, our company is thriving just fine as it is.”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you smiled slightly, leaning back in your chair with a controlled breath.

“That’s because of people like me, Nanami. People who know that thriving isn’t enough. We need to evolve.”

It was a quiet challenge. A call to the very heart of his cautious nature, the kind of challenge that stirred something deep in both of you.

For a moment, the room was silent. No one dared to speak, sensing the standoff between the two of you. You both knew the stakes. Your points were valid, and his were just as solid. But in this game, it wasn’t just about who was right—it was about who could bend the other to their will.

And with that, the meeting continued, but the energy in the room never quite settled. The board members watched in silence, accustomed to the tension between you and Nanami by now, though none of them fully understood the true nature of the competition, of the rivalry between you two.

It wasn’t just about the work.

It never was.

And as the presentations came to an end and everyone began to file out of the room, Nanami gave you one last glance—his eyes not cold, but something else. Something unreadable, but familiar.

“Good work,” he said, almost as if he were conceding a point, though his tone remained neutral.

*-*

The day had been long—longer than usual, filled with presentations, sharp glances and the undercurrent of competition that was familiar but still exhilarating.

As the office began to empty, you found yourself walking down the hallway, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. It had been a long day, but the tension that lingered between Nanami and you after the meeting was… intoxicating. And, as always, you had a feeling you’d be running into him soon.

And by "running into him," you meant, of course, you were about to collide on purpose.

As if on cue, you turned a corner and found yourself standing in front of the conference room. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see the faint outline of Nanami’s figure inside.

You paused, your heart picking up pace, knowing what was about to happen.

This wasn't just a coincidence, it never was.

You pushed the door open, slipping inside with a barely noticeable smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Late-night work, Kento?” you asked, playing it cool, but the mischievous glint in your eyes betrayed you.

Nanami didn’t look up right away.

He was leaning over a set of papers, reviewing something quietly, and for a brief second, he gave no indication that he had even noticed you’d entered.

But you knew he had.

You always knew.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but with a certain edge to it, “-didn’t expect you to be so punctual after our little ‘debate’ today.”

You took a slow step forward, your heels clicking softly as you closed the gap between you.

“Oh, I’m always punctual. You know that.”

Nanami glanced up, his gaze narrowing slightly as his eyes met yours. That familiar, teasing tension was already swirling between you. You could practically feel it crackling in the air. And, just like every time before, it was like you were the only two people in the world.

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms casually.

“So, what’s the verdict on my very risky ideas from earlier? Did I win, or are we still battling it out?”

His lips quirked slightly, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stood from the chair with slow deliberation, locking eyes with you as he did. There was a dangerous, playful glint in his gaze now.

“We both know you’re stubborn,” he said softly, a challenge laced in his tone. “But you do make a good point every now and then.”

Before you could respond, Nanami turned and locked the door behind you, the soft click of the lock reverberating through the room.

You raised an eyebrow, the realization hitting you like a slow wave. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Kento,” you teased, but your voice softened.

He didn’t reply at first. Instead, Nanami took a step closer, closing the distance between you until there was only a whisper of air separating you. His hand reached up, fingers grazing your cheek, his touch delicate but firm. The tension between you felt so thick it could’ve suffocated anyone else in the room, but not you two.

You thrived in it.

“You know,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to your lips, “I do love how much you push me.”

“And I love how much you push me,” you whispered back, your voice low and steady, heart pounding in your chest.

His lips curled into a smirk, and before you could fully register what was happening, his hand was on the back of your neck, pulling you toward him with a force that sent your pulse racing. Your lips met in a sudden, heated kiss.

No words. No preamble.

Just pure, undeniable fire.

The kiss was a clash of desire and frustration—a mingling of rivalry and affection. You could feel his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by tangling your fingers into his shirt, tugging him even nearer.

Between kisses, Nanami murmured softly against your lips, each word barely audible but intense.

“You were right, you know. Your presentation was damn good. Risky as hell, but good.”

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips even as you kissed him back.

“Yeah? I know. I did well.”

He chuckled softly, the sound deep in his chest. “You always do,” he muttered, his voice soft and warm despite the heat of the kiss.

His hands moved to your face, cupping it gently as he deepened the kiss, his thumbs tracing the curve of your jaw. The intensity of the moment was enough to make you forget everything around you. In this room, there was no competition, no rivalry—just you two. Just him. Just the way you were always meant to be.

And then, between frantic kisses, his voice dropped into a breathless whisper. “Marry me.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, blinking in confusion. “What?”

He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you with the same affection that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Marry me again,” he repeated, his voice thick with sincerity. “You already have my heart, but I want to do this all over again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and joyful. “You already asked me, Ken.”

He grinned, his hands pulling you closer again. “Then let me ask you again. Marry me.”

You held up your hand, showing him the ring that already glimmered on your finger. “You really don’t need to ask. I already said yes.”

Nanami pressed his lips to yours once more, his kiss warm and tender this time, as if every part of him was soaking in the quiet joy of the moment. In between kisses, you heard him whisper,

“I don’t care. I want to ask you every day.”

And as the kiss deepened once more, you couldn’t help but think that, despite all the competition, all the tension, all the heated moments between you—they were all just a reminder of how much you really loved each other.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

A/N: yeah so idk my brain just couldn't not think of this. i might remake this into a longer fic bc I LOVE this premise so much

Masterlist

:)

[genyawritesshizz]

Promotion - Sentinel Prime X Reader

Spending your days endlessly mining energon you yearned to one day be promoted. To finally free yourself from the frame aching work of the mines. Yet when you catch the optics of the Sentinel Prime, that promotion may come at a terrible cost, maybe you should have read the fine print.

Tbh it’s very little plot mostly just smut.

18+ ONLY

IVE NEVER WRITTEN FOR TRANSFORMERS NOR HAVE I READ MUCH FIC OF IT BUT I TRIED TO GET THE TERMS RIGHT BUT YA KNOW, ITS A LOT.

Possible part 2, we’ll see how this does.

WARNING: Dubious consent, emotional manipulation, Power Imbalance, (TBH Sentinel is a walking red flag), Sexual Coercion, Size kink, SMUT, Cybertronian reader,

This is essentially just robot porn I'm sorry to all my anime followers :(

The first time Sentinel Prime had set his optics on you he knew, much to his initial disgust, he wanted you. 

A miner. 

Of all the femme’s at his disposal the one that at last managed to catch his gaze was a cogless, bottom level, miner. 

“That thing?” With a snarled lip and multiple sets of trailing skeptical eyes, Airachnid's own revulsion was evident. Far down below the balcony on which they stood, walking the bustling city streets you at last returned to his hungry gaze. 

“Unfortunately so.”

Primus, what an honor it was to be within the presence of Cybertrons protector, the bot who single handedly protected all Cybertronians from the Quintessons; Sentinel Prime. 

After being approached by Arachnid and ordered to follow her you had initially feared you had broken an unknown protocol, resulting in a demotion. Yet much to your shock within the gold columned building you had been led to he was there.

The look of pure admiration within your optics as you stared up to him in awe coupled with the now quiet whir of your internal fans as your spark raced within his mere presence fed his already raging primal desire.

Such blind naivety.

"Walk with me. I’d like to discuss something important." His tone was warm but carried a weight of authority. One you could not help but blindly follow. 

The two of you stroll through the empty corridors, arachnid standing guard just outside of its entrance.

“Tell me, have you always felt bound to the mines? Or have you ever imagined something greater for yourself?" You shift, pace faltering a smidge, taken aback by his directness. You're proud of your work as a miner but can’t deny that you’ve thought about rising above this level.

"The mines are… Well, they’re home. I have my friends down there. But I’ve always wanted to do more…to make a real difference for Cybertron." 

Sentinel nods, his optics narrowing slightly. Searing blue scanned from the top of your dull paint chipped helm to your transfixed gaze, (noting how you subconsciously averted it away from him when noticing his search), down to your chin.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, signaling his satisfaction in finding whatever he had hunted for. 

Vulnerability suited you well.

"I could see that. You carry yourself with a strength that is rare, even among the most seasoned warriors." 

His confident stride deviates him closer to you and he lowers his voice just a touch. 

"Cybertron needs warriors with your spirit. And not just in the mines. In places where real change can be forged." 

His words spark something in you. Your gaze sharpened, instantly locking with his, the once thick humility gives way to a flicker of pride. 

‘Is he going to promote me?’ You hopefully thought. You had been working your frame down to the wire for the last few rotations in hopes of this.

Sentinel picks up the change in demeanor immediately. Before continuing his sweet talk, he comes to a complete stop and turns towards you.

His frame is significantly larger than yours, as to be expected when comparing a cogless to a Prime.

Though, the way he truly towered over you left you feeling far weaker than usual as he had to bend down significantly to reach optic level with you.

"Too often, talents like yours go overlooked down there. Others might not see it, but I do. Imagine if you were to rise up, to stand among those who shape Cybertron’s future. Those who ensure our planet’s place as the greatest in the galaxy." With each passing word he had leaned closer, faceplate now mere centimeters from yours.

Your spark fluttered. 

His venting flowed deliciously warm against your intake.

Proximity feedback signals fired on high and energon lines pumped furiously fast. 

Yet despite your system's shock at his actions, you could not look nor move away.

“You really think… I could be that?”

A set of servos planted themself around your lower chassis, their span long enough to completely wrap around you. 

Your servers struggled to process exactly what was happening, focusing solely on the swirling lights of blue that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I know you can.”

The digits ensnaring your waist tightened, pulling you flush against his wide frame. 

His helm delved lower, denta lightly nipping at the sensitive wires between the spaces of your minimal plating. 

The second you beeped in surprise then melted into his embrace, helm craning to the side allowing him further access, he knew once again. 

You were not going anywhere. 

But then again, why would you want to?

When your protector was so kind enough to show you, a nobody, such special affection. 

Never had you anticipated that you would ever find yourself within a Primes personal suite yet here you were. Sprawled out atop a luxurious berth, hidden away from the rest of Iacon city, with desires you had never even thought to dream of coming true.

Your gracious leader's frame was reduced to a hunched, yet still ever imposing, form as he kneels between your legs. Your modesty paneling had long since been retracted, revealing your array to his hungry gaze, and allowing you to relish in all the new sensations your Prime was bestowing upon you.

No, in all your cycles you had never found the desire to fragbond with someone. Yet now as Sentinel Prime’s silver glossa ravenously glides through the throbbing mesh of your valve and mouthpiece occasionally latching onto your external node you cannot believe your hesitancy for such pleasures. 

To think you had gone for so long without.

Not to worry, never again shall you ever have to suffer such a fate.

It is extremely out of character for Sentinel to give his partner's pleasure this way or in any way/to care about it. 

Normally he wastes no time in pleasuring others, he was a busy man after all. Instead focusing solely on his own release within others bodies then disposing of them.

But something about having you pinned beneath one of his arms, the other easily reaching over your head to hold your wrists down, the way you cried out for him, your Prime, and to be completely at his mercy…It has his spike twitching beneath his own paneling.

Savagely he feasts upon your now swollen valve, thick glossa entering your spasming opening, nose buried atop your external node.

“M-my, oh Primus! - My Prime I-” You were completely unfamiliar with the feeling boiling inside you, it felt as though a coil was winding. Each intrusion of his glossa only pulled it tighter.

“That’s right, say my name.” A smug smirk tugged itself into the corners of his faceplate before he delved back where you so desperately wanted him. 

You looked and sounded both pathetic and desperate.

He loved it.

“Sentinel!”

Overloading into the mouth of said mech was absolutely euphoric.

Though despite your high, he was left utterly displeased to hear you leave off the Prime in your cry.

He had earned that title.

It was his name.

You would learn the error of your mistake soon.

He did not ask permission to continue. 

Standing up from his crouched position, the grip that once held you down now flipped you onto your chest plate and dragged you towards the edge of his berth, allowing your legs to dangle off the edge.

Even on the tips your pedes you would still not touch the golden floor beneath.

Positioning your aft up into an arch he at last retracted his paneling, allowing his spike to spring free. 

Central processor still short circuiting under the throws of overloading, you did not even notice the shift in position.

Once your intake had returned to normal your mind followed suit, catching up to the reality of what was happening.

Yet it was too late to protest as something sickeningly thick prodded at your valve's still quivering entrance.

It felt like far too much.

Trying to squirm away from it you're met with a dark chuckle and thick digits atop your shoulder, easily pulling you back down into position.

“Where do you think you're going? We're just getting started sweetspark”

The moment the head of his spike entered, you felt an immediate sense of dread wash over and a cold shiver through your struts. 

“Too big...” Your vocalizer had barely returned, causing the whine to sound utterly pitiful, drowned in static and served only to feed Sentinel's ego.

“Hm? What's that?” Leaning over your form, faceplate centimeters away from your audio receptors, steam rolled with his words; fogging over the heaving metal of your shoulder plates.

“Frag…You-You’re too big.”

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” His tone was high in pitch and laced with manipulation. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Prime now would you?” 

A strangled whimper and a shake of your head ‘no’ gave little confirmation to his taunt in ‘permitting’ him to keep going, not that he cared whichever direction your response led. 

Even if you wanted to stop, you had no power to break away from him.

A deep, dominating, chuckle bubbled within his chest plate. “I thought not. You’re serving me, a great honor really.”

It felt like being pried open, the way his spike speared into your clamping valve was utterly painful. 

Despite your cries you attempted to stay still as the gold winged Prime behind you continued to push further. 

Each half centimeter only served to strengthen the burn.

Halfway in you had closed your optics, denta plates gritted tightly shut. 

“Take it all, I know you can.”

The same four words that once filled you with hope now filled you with burning heat.

You will take what he is so graciously giving you. 

Finally, after what felt like eternity, his entire spike was successfully sheathed inside. 

Though this was just the beginning.

“So tight,” Your body was clamped around the intruder in a vise grip. Desperately begging for it to be removed. “So small.”

His pace was brutally fast. The servos on your shoulder and hip kept you from escaping or sliding too far away from his attack. 

Surprisingly, after a few klicks, the tight inner calipers of your valve slowly loosened. His spike, now slathered in a combination of fluids, began sliding without much resistance. 

At last, a few surges of pleasure coursed through your system. 

Soon both of you were grunting, occasionally moaning. Though your sounds far outnumbered his. 

Your servos clenched into the smooth bedding atop his berth, surely tearing the fabric though in this moment neither of you cared. However it was something he would be sure to punish you for later. 

“You're mine, little miner.” His hips pistoned faster, slamming against your aft, surely to leave you sore. “All Mine.”

In response all you could do was hold on tighter, moaning louder with each intense slam.

“I’ll. never. let. you. go.” Each word sent another wicked surge into your swollen valve.

Blind sighted by the throes of pleasure bordering on overstimulation his words simply did not translate in your faltering audio receptors.

Though he meant every bit of it.

Helm falling back and a loud moan echoing throughout the gold-plated room, his overload blazed hot through his system. Filling your already stuffed valve to the brim with his transfluid.

Fans whirling on high, neither of you moved from your conjoined position for a few klicks.

After he's regained his senses fully, he removes himself from your valve, being sure to marvel at his work of completely ruining your once virgin body with a devilish smirk. Admiring the way his bright blue transfluid seeped from your still clenching valve.

Though this will be far from the last time he sees you like this.

With wobbling arms, you attempted to rise, though as you began to lift yourself up a large servos pushed you back down.

"We're not done."

True to his word, you had earned a promotion.

Fitted with only the finest armor paneling and a fresh coat of paint you had earned yourself the pristine position of his pet.  

A position you held with utmost dignity, after all you were serving your Prime.

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere batfam with a sick reader?

Yes but sick reader who is still defiant because hello, they kidnapped you?????

Reader is just glaring at them with tired eyes and a red nose as they once again tuck her under the covers, Dick is highly worried as he frets over you like a mama hen because he did have a heart attack when he caught you standing in front of your open window, where "harsh" gusts of cold air were "attacking your fragile form", so of course, he had to drag you in and wrap his arms around you, rub his cheek against you because he NEEDS to warm you immediately, lest you die of hypothermia.

Yes, Dick overreacts. And yes, Damian will accompany his brother in his delusions, or well, take any chance he gets to scold you.

"You should be in bed, Y/n." Damian said sternly, his eyes narrowed because how dare you worry his favourite brother like this. "Didn't Dick tell you to rest? Are you that incapable of following simple commands?"

You narrowed your eyes back at him, opening your mouth to say something mean but got cut off by your own coughing fit, making Dick rush to help you drink some water, rubbing your back along it. Your throat felt scractchy, and it hurt to speak, but you still wanted to convey your feelings so-

You flipped him off. For a nano second, because Dick immediately grabbed your hand and tucked it back under the covers while Damian's eyes widened at you disrespect, but before he could make any more gremlin noises, but Bruce walked in and Damian knew better than to complain to him about you when youre already sick, cause Bruce wouldve still favoured you.

"Y/n? How do you feel now?" Bruce asked, his voice gentle as he walked closer to where Dick was throwing away your mountain of tissues.

"Im fine. I wanna go out-" "No." "And why not?" "Because youre sick." "You may be Batman, but youre not a doctor!" "I am your father though."

No, youre not. You wanted to say, but knew that would only piss him off and you need to be on his good side if you want Dick and the others to be off your back so that you can escape.

"Whats her temperature?" Bruce asked Dick, who put a thermometer in your mouth quickly. Dick sighed as he told Bruce how you were out of bed and standing in your balcony in the cold just moments ago.

Bruce placed a palm over your forehead, and you tried to move away but there wasnt really any space or energy for you to do that. Bruce's eyes shifted the slightest bit at your burning forehead. "Why do you insist on getting out of bed and sleeping on the floor? Ive already had to pick you up 3 times in the past 2 days."

You pulled out the thermometer and glared at him. "Im fine. Its just sniffles." Bruce's lip quirked a little. You looked absolutely adorable in your delirious state, like an angry kitten.

"I dont think its just sniffles this time. And-" Bruce pulled the thermometer from your hands that you were hiding under the covers. "-dont hide the thermometer from me." His eyes scanned it and the twitch in his brow was enough for Dick to know that the number was too high.

Bruce then eyed the cough syrup next to your side table- its still full.

"Why havent you been taking your medicine?"

"Im not sick-"

"White paint has more color than you do right now. So why havent you been taking the medicine?" Bruce asked and even though he was a little annoyed, he had enough practice dealing with the other kid's rebellious phases to have the patience of a saint.

You shrugged. "How do I know its just cough syrup and not a sedative?" "It is a sedative too. Its supposed to make you sleepy." "Well, I dont wanna sleep and let my guard down in a house full of 5 strange men." You obviously never counted Alfred- hes the only normal one here- except for the part that he wont call the cops for you, but oh well.

Bruce just casted a look to Dick and before you knew it, Dick was pinching your nostrils close and titling your head up while Bruce grabbed the syrup and poured some in your mouth before clamping his hand over it. You struggled to break free, but you were obviously no match to them. Still, tears of frustration pricked your eyes as you looked at them in betrayal and hatred.

"Drink this and dont argue with me, please." Bruce said- well, he genuinely requested at this point.

You didnt have much of a choice other than swallowing it.

With a defiant glare, you begin closing your eyes as your body gave into the effects of the drug, the last thing that you felt were Bruce kissing your forehead while Dick pecked your cheek.

Jason finally decides to drop by the Wayne manor, only to be greeted with the sight of reader lying on the kitchen floor. His heart stopped for a moment- you werent breathing-

"Y/n!" He rushed to your side, only to be smacked in the face by you.

"Shush. Dont be too loud." Your voice sounded like sandpaper against rocks.

Jason huffed. "Well, sorry for freaking out. I thought you were dead-"

"From a cough? Im not weak."

"Yeah? So, what exactly are you doing on the cold floor in the middle of the night?"

"..."

"Well?"

"What? So I cant even take a nap in this house? Jesus Christ, am I allowed to have any autonomy here?"

"Y/n." Jason called, clearly unamused by your sarcasm.

"Fine. I may have fallen and then didnt have the energy to get up, so im just catching my breath here."

"Why are you even out of bed?"

"I was hungry and Im not gonna drink another spoon of Alfred's bland soup again." Alfred made it bland on purpose so that your throat wouldnt be irritated.

"Please stop wasting whats left of your voice on complaints of the soup that you cant even taste." Jason chuckled as he picked you up, only for you to push at his chest weakly.

"I dont need your help. I can walk on my own."

Jason quirked a brow. "If you can make it to the front door without fainting or throwing up, I'll help you escape." You stared at the front door- it wasnt too far, but judging by the fact that its even hard for you to breathe properly and that youve fainted way too many times by just standing for more than a couple of minutes.

But youre stubborn. With great effort, you pushed yourself off Jason and used the kitchen island to pull yourself up. Jason decided to walk in front of you and stand near the kitchen exit because he really wanted to see your struggling face.

You took a trembling step, then another, one hand still using the support of the island until it ended and you were only a couple of feet away from Jason. At this point, you were already out of breath and when you took another step, your legs gave out and the room began spinning.

Luckily, Jason was quick to react. "Alright, just place your arm around mine- or just fall on me, that works too." He teased when you couldnt hold your body weight.

You slumped in his arms. "Just take me to my room." You huffed.

"Alright." Jason lifted your legs up and carried you back up the stairs. "You know you'd get better a lot faster if you just stayed in bed and took your medicine on time. Wouldnt that make your chances of escaping the manor better?"

You stared at him blankly. "Wow. The world must be ending for Jason Todd to be making logical suggestions."

Jason rolled his eyes as he tucked you in bed. "Im just saying, if you get better faster, you'll get to try running from us quicker too."

How do you explain to him that you just dont want to comply to them, even when they're helping you. How do you explain that you dont wanna listen to them because the soft pitiful, patronising look they get in their eyes when they look at you makes you wanna scream and carve your skin out. These are strangers, rich men who just kidnapped you to be a part of their family. No one is that kind. And nothing ever comes for free. Nothing.

"Do you need something? Food, perhaps?" Jason asked. You shook your head. "No, I think Im gonna throw up."

"Oh shit." Jason was hauling his ass out of the room t get you a bucket, only to return with a backpack.

You barely held your puke as you asked. "Wait- whose is this?"

"I dont know!? Damian's?!"

You grinned. "Oh, perfect." You proceeded to throw up into Damian's bag. That little shit just got on your nerves.

BONUS:

"I know you have attachment issues with your blanket but its been a couple of days now and you need to let me wash it." Dick said, trying to tug it out of your grip.

You sniffled and glared. "Im not a child who needs their blankie, Dick. Im just too cold without it and no other blanket can warm me up the same way it does."

"Give the blankie, Y/n." Dick said seriously.

"Its not a blankie." You retorted, but before you could react, Tim suddenly grabbed you while Dick ripped away the blanket. And even though he immediately replaces it with a clean blanket, you still let out a gut wrenching cry

"You'll have it back tomorrow-" Tim starts saying, only for you to sneeze directly in his face, making him freeze.

"And that's why we use tissues." Dick says, wiping both your nose and Tim's face with tissues, while you're not making any effort to suppress the grin that comes on your lips.

[nereidprinc3ss]

behave

in which fem!reader REALLY wants spencer's attention while he's working

18+ (no smut but sex is talked about) warnings: mentions of sex, spencer grabs readers wrist to stop her from doing something but its not violent, reader is referred to as a girl, no use of y/n, um i think that's it WC: 870 a/n: i have damn near 40 pages of spencer WIP so im biting the bullet and posting some of it. also.. if you want a plot... babe this is not the place for you im sorry... ive never even heard of a plot actually. i dont know about rising and falling action... i dont believe in that. it sounds fake

It feels like Spencer has been at his desk for hours. 

And for hours you've been lounging on the couch, reading your book in silence so as to let him work. But you're becoming... antsy. Impatient. Every time you drop your book and stare at him, willing your white-hot gaze to draw his attention; nothing. He just keeps shuffling papers, signing, writing, reading reading reading. 

At ten, you give up.  

You make a show of slamming your book shut, sighing, slowly sitting up, stretching, standing, stretching again--when you turn your head, expecting your little performance to have at least earned a look from him; still, nothing. 

"Spence?" you ask, innocuously, as you round the couch and draw toward him carefully, slowly, on light feet. A display of faux innocence. It’s not that you intend to bother him, per se--you're just so bored. 

He hums in response, eyes still glued to his work as he searches for something among the mess of paper. 

You come to a stop in front of the mahogany desk, tracing the edge of it idly with wandering fingertips. 

"What are you looking at?" you ask, in reference to a photo he seems to now be studying intently.  

"Nothing you need to see," is his muttered response, quickly flipping the photo face down on the desk and picking up a form walled in migraine-inducing tiny black text. You watch the way he scans the paper, brow knitted, and eyes squinted, clearly not paying you very much attention. 

You move languidly around the desk, letting the wood drag against your hip the whole way, before reaching for the overturned photo--just to see what he'll do. 

Spencer catches your wrist, his grip gentle and warm but not without portent. "What did I just say, grabby?" 

Sadly, they're the most words you've gotten out of him since this afternoon. 

You sigh dramatically and drape yourself across his lap, looping your arms around his neck. To your initial satisfaction he shifts slightly to accommodate you--and then continues to look over your shoulder like he hardly notices the pretty girl on top of him. 

"When will you be done?" you purr, tracing his jaw with a finger.

"I'll be done when I'm done." 

God, he can be stubborn. 

"Can you be done any sooner than that?" 

"What do you think I'm going to say to that," comes his flat reply, still not sparing you a glance. You watch enviously as his eyes dart down the paper he's reading over your shoulder.  

"Then I'm staying right here until you're finished." 

"You can stay here if you can behave." 

You scoff, bunching the fabric on the back of his shirt in your fists. "What do you mean, if I can behave?" 

Finally, you hear Spencer set down his pen, and he leans back in his chair to regard you. His gaze finally on you is like an ice bath. You literally have to repress the urge to shiver under his evaluation; the slightly raised eyebrows, the line of his mouth a little harder than usual. His 'you know exactly what I'm talking about so don't play dumb' look. 

For a few tense seconds, you let your eyes dart between his, not wanting to break first. Unfortunately, you think that look of his could freeze saltwater.  

"Fine," you mutter, flushing when you look down at his shirt collar instead. If you're being reasonable, he probably is doing something important. You drag your gaze back up to his and see that his eyes have softened. 

"Thank you," he says, gentler, squeezing your leg before running his hand over it back and forth a few times. "I know I'm not being very fun today. When I'm done we can do whatever you want to do." 

The urge to say, 'whatever I want to do?' is strong, but you manage to bite your tongue as he reaches back over you to continue his work. Instead, you content yourself to lean against him, allowing his solidity and warmth to envelop you for some immeasurable stretch of time.  

Rain starts up, battering the windowpane and accented by deep rolls of thunder. The scratch of Spencer's pen on paper, the rustle of files, and the scent of patchouli and amber begins to lull you into a doze--a comfortable place between awake and asleep. It's the kind of comatose unconsciousness that bends and liquifies time, and you don’t even realize you fell asleep until you’re waking up. 

Spencer murmurs your name, brushing your hair carefully out of your face. "Did you fall asleep, angel?" His voice is soft, just above a whisper.  

"Mhm," you groan, rubbing your eyes. "How long has it been?" 

"A few hours," he sighs. "That file took a lot longer than it should have, I'm sorry." 

You're still bleary as you speak next; 

"The thing was sex." 

"What?" he laughs, rubbing your leg as you adjust yourself in his lap. 

"You said we could do whatever I wanted to do when you were done, and it was sex. But now I'm tired." 

"Let's get you to bed," he begins, "and revisit the sex idea in the morning. Does that work for you?" 

You smile against his shirt, eyes already fluttering closed again. 

"Mhm..." 

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Hello, this is 🦈 anon ◉⁠‿⁠◉. Um.. if you still open request, please can i have TF 141 together x F! Reader who has high (possibly extreme) pain tolerance that whenever reader's injured, she almost doesn't react or show she's in pain. When TF 141 found this new information, they couldn't be not worried because what do you mean you don't feel anything while bleeding heavily, sweetheart?

TLDR: "Ayo yer bleeding?!", "Uh, um..yeah, should I scream?"

hello 🦈 anon!!! nice to see you again :D ty for the request!! I hope u would like this one since I think it was sweet :) have a nice day/night!

word count: 2.3k

ship: TF141*F!Reader

tw: pet names (love etc.)

The first time they found out was on a mission.

The explosion made you fly and hit hard on the wall, you could hear Soap yelling at you.

“Yer okay, lassie?!” You brushed away the dust, Soap running over and checking on you, blue eyes full of concern.

“Yeah, alright.” Standing up from the wreckage, you simply responded to him. Though Soap doubted if you were truly fine under that big impact, but your face didn’t express thoughts other than focusing on the mission, so he just nodded and signaled to keep going.

The rest of the mission succeeded without any incidents. Price, Ghost, and Gaz are already waiting at the exfil place. Through the smoke and deafening sound of the helo, they saw you and Soap walking towards them.

“Y’all okay?” Hadn’t gotten close to the helicopter, Gaz already run towards you two, relief was obvious on his face when he didn’t see any injuries by a quick scan, but then Ghost came over too.

“Wait, your shoulder.” He pointed at your shoulder, leading everyone’s gaze to land on it, including yourself.

“oh... looks like it’s dislocated.” You evaluated.

“What do you mean ‘oh’?! don’t you feel any pain?!” Soap yelled at your words. His hands try to inspect your shoulder, but afraid to trigger the pain.

“I don’t think it’s a big deal, just...”

You put your hand on the shoulder, and with a loud CRACK, which made Gaz jump and Soap gaped, even Ghost’s eyes widened at your sudden motion.

“I think it’s fixed now.” You looked around at your teammates, confusion clouded your mind “Ummm... is there any problem?”

“You...” Ghost stuttered, but he regained his composure fast. “doesn’t that hurt?”

“Well, I don’t know what you mean, LT.” You shrugged, “But actually, I feel a little bit dizzy...”

Just at the moment you finished your sentence, the dizziness became more severe, and your vision started growing blurry...

“Oi! Call the medic!” Catching your slumped body, Ghost yelled at the sergeants, but the last thing you hear is Soap reassuring you and Gaz calling for help.

So quiet... Where am I?

You thought as you slowly opened your eyes, what came in your eyes first was the stainless white ceiling, and a low voice coming from aside.

“you awake, sergeant?”

Turning your head, your eyes met with the man’s ocean-like ones, who sitting on the chair beside and holding some papers.

“Captain.” The whisper slipped out when you recognized him

“I guess you don’t know you were seriously injured, love.”

“What happened?”

“The explosion.” Price leaned closer to the bed now “The impact caused your bone fractured and slowly internal bleeding. We have no idea how you were able to walk to the exfil and looked like nothing happened.”

“I didn’t feel any pain, so I assumed I was okay.” you avoided his attention when Price raised his eyebrows. You knew he was worried and it kind of made you guilty.

“since I was young I rarely feel pain, so...” staring at the catheter of your IV drip, you mumbled quietly.

Price didn’t reply, he just stared at the paper written with your injuries and health state.

The room fell into silence for a while, before you open your mouth again.

“Sorry, Captain...” You murmured, still don’t dare to look at him.

The man let out a long sigh, you snapped your head up when you felt your hands were covered by Price’s.

It’s warm, soothing, calming down your still hazy but full of thoughts mind.

“You should be sorry, dear.” He rubbed your hand in a repeated rhythm. “You make us worried. Me, and the boys...” he pointed his chin at the bedside desk, and you finally notice the flowers and your favorite snacks are placed on it.

“We’ll keep an eye on you every time the mission is complete, since you can’t feel pain, this is not a request, it’ s a command, got it, soldier?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” The composed grin eventually appeared on his face, and you smiled too when he ruffled your hair.

“Sleepy?” His comforting voice rings against your ears when you let out a big yawn.

“mmhmm.”

“Then sleep, Gaz will be here when you wake up.”

Price watched your eyelids struggle to stay open but failed, little snores leaving you when you fell drifted into dreams again.

What you didn’t know is he brushed off the hair on your face and placed a tender kiss on your serene face.

Weeks after, to your happiness, you could go back to your own quarter and start hitting the training room for some simple practice.

Except there was someone who insisted on following you every time when you went to the training room, even if you tried to sneak into the room, he was always there as if he knew your plan.

“Soap.” You sighed at the man sitting on the bench spotting you.

“Aye, lassie?”

“I’m okay, really.”

“I don’t trust ye anymore. I should check it mahself.”

You understood why he was acting like this. Price told you Soap had been blaming himself for not finding that you were injured in that mission until your body gave up due to blood loss.

“I’m just doing some easy weightlifting now, I won’t pass out just because of this okay?”

You concentrated on his figure as he strode to your side. You chuckled when he still looked at you with doubtful eyes.

“How ‘bout you spar with me? Go easy on me though, the doctor said I still haven’t recovered fully.”

“You sure yer okay?”

“You’re like my mother now, Soapy.”

“Aye, 'cause we got a naughty kid in our team.” He laughed. “If I think you should stop, then ye stop, aye?”

“Yes, mama.”

You both burst into laughter and stepped on the training mat. Soap really went easy with his attack, unlike the usual training with the tension as if you two were about to devour each other.

“Oh!” When Soap swung out a punch, you abruptly lowered your body, and with a swipe of your leg, Soap fell onto the mat, followed by you sitting on him and securing his hands.

“Checkmate...? Soap.” You smirk at the man lying under you.

“Won’t complain if I was lost to you, but.” he huffed out a laugh, but your world spun the next second, and you met your gaze with the man now on top of you, his eyes glinting with mischievous.

“It’s a tie now, bonnie.” He flashed out a dazzling smile at you.

“Okay okay, it’s a tie now.”

A lazy grin spread along your lips when you poke at his chest.

“How about we go get some lunch together, handsome?

“Aye, ma'am.”

“The bones and the wound have healed very well, can say you are the most well-behaved patient in your team.”

The doctor smiled at you, and you turned to shoot a glimpse at Gaz, only to find his face written with embarrassment.

“What did he do last time you treat him, doctor?”

“oh, I forbid him to go training, but he still went and tore his knuckles, so he came back and stitched them again, making me call Captain Price to scold him.”

“Sorry, he’s a dumbass.”

“All of you guys are stubborn, sometimes I really want to tie you to the bed.” The doctor grinned “Well, since you’re fully recovered, you can go back to train and go on missions. Remember to be careful next time, don’t come back too soon, okay?���

“I will, Thank you, doc.”

Returning the smile, you and Gaz stepped out of the infirmary.

“I can’t wait to have you back next mission, need ya to bear Soap’s nonsense and Lt.’s bad jokes with me.” Walking beside you, Gaz sounded excited, and it’s hard not to be affected by his warmth.

“Need a helper to deal with those troublemakers?”

“That’s one reason.” He chuckled “Actually...”

“We all missed you.”

You halted to a stop when his words flowed into your ears with a bit of sadness.

Now face to face with him, you were able to see the concern on his face.

“You didn’t know when you just passed out without any warning, I felt like my heart almost shattered.”

It was close to midnight, so no one was nearby, and his words were gentle yet distinct, echoing softly in your mind.

“Not just, me, Ghost, Soap, Captain... we all are scared, you know?”

“We thought we lost you.”

You opened your mouth, mind still processing, managing to find a word, but nothing came out except an apology.

“Sorry, Kyle...”

The dusk light showered you two in an awkward peace, but it didn’t affect the sentiment Gaz conveyed to you.

“Just be careful, okay? You should tell us that you can barely feel pain, so we can help you check out, alright?”

“Okay.”

Giving your hands a little squeeze, Gaz accompanied you back to your quarter.

“We’re more than a team, more than family, we’ll always watch your back, just like you always do.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Tilting your head, your lips curled mildly. “Goodnight, Gaz.”

The honey-like smile inched towards you until you felt his soft lips pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight, lovie.”

Your first mission after months ended smoothly. You were glad that you didn’t become rusty after the long rest, seemed like the practice and training with Soap and Gaz were worth it.

Soap and Gaz were chatting loudly, while Price sat in front and was checking details regarding the mission. You listened to the boys bantering, sometimes quipped back when their target turned to you, but you could feel someone observing you, and you tried to ignore the chill sending through your spine.

Because you knew it was Ghost, sitting just across you and scanning you like a robot.

You silently wished to arrive at the base faster, so you could ask him what was wrong or if you had done something incorrectly.

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you let out a sigh of relief when you jump off the helo. Got rid of the gear and placing them back in their place, you straightly head back to your quarter, craving some hot shower to wash off the soreness and dirt.

On your way back to the quarter, you could hear footsteps following you, almost imperceptibly, but you noticed and immediately went to a stop.

“LT.?”

Your LT. loomed just right behind you, seeming not surprised that you were aware of him, or maybe that was just what he was planning.

He hummed at your recognition but didn’t stop his steps, until he was side by side with you.

“I’m just about to ask you, did I do something wrong? You kept staring at me when we were heading back.”

“You did it pretty well.”

“Then why did you...?”

“You’ll know when you get into your room.”

He placed his right hand on the small of your back, ushering you to your room, and you just obliged, letting him lead you.

Closing the door behind you and Ghost, you turned around to face the man now with his balaclava on.

“So what’s the issue?”

“Clothes, off.” The command came out from him unexpectedly.

“What—“

“I said clothes, off.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, what the fuck does he want? you thought while kicking off your cargo pants and tossing your shirt on the chair, leaving only the sports bra and underwear with you.

“What now?”

Ghost didn’t form a word as his eyes traveled from your head, slowly through every inch of your body, under his meticulous search, you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“turn around.” You did as he told, and now you were unable to see him, anxiety crawling to your mind until he finally stood up.

His calloused hands touched your shoulder, circling you to face him.

“Can you tell me what you’re doing now?” You asked when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Checking.”

“If I’m injured?”

“yeah.”

“Oh god” You poke his pec with a frown “you all are overreacting. I’m okay, really. Don’t you guys trust me?”

“We trust your ability, but not your ability to tolerate pain.”

“I’m fi—“

“We can’t lose you.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Ghost was looking into your eyes. He might be good at concealing his emotions, but they said, a person’s eyes can’t lie.

and all you see is sorrow, love, consideration.

All the retorts were swallowed back when his eyes conveyed how important you were to him — to them. You studied the man towering over you, tracing his scars and wrinkles in your mind.

“Thank you, Ghost.” You pulled him into a hug, which he didn’t back off, instead melting in your arms, head burying in the crook of your neck. “I will be careful, okay? I will tell you if I got hit and not sure if I was injured.”

He nodded while staying in your embrace, and you just patted his head.

“Now, I need to shower” Pulling back, a smile bloomed on your face “See you tomorrow, LT.”

“Don’t oversleep again, sergeant.” He scoffed, but petted you before letting you go to shower.

When you came out, with relaxed muscles and fresh clothes, you jumped onto your bed, but something on your desk caught your attention.

Picking it up, you shook your head in disbelief.

“Fuck you, Ghost, I already brushed my teeth.”

grumbling to yourself, you still opened the snack—your favorite one— and gave it a huge bite, while snickering at the paper placed under the snack.

‘Goodnight, luv. (remember to brush your bloody teeth again.)’ — Ghost

next chapter

[eighttens]

Imagine: Gymcrush!San x pilatesgirlie!reader

Synopsis: Imagine finally working up the courage to go up to Gymcrush!San, after weeks of semi-creepily watching him across the stuffy gym.

It’s not your fault that he‘s somehow always there when you do your sessions, even less so that your eyes keep finding him and his tiny waist. Him and his thick arms, him and his muscular chest, him and thunderous thighs. Not your fault that he wears those skin-tight tops, paired with the iconic grey sweats, or on days where you thank the lord, workout shorts. No, not your fault at all when he looks like sex on a stick after running cardio on the treadmill, even more so when deadlifting, a belt cinching his waist in deliciously.

So, after a particularly successful gyming session for you (you had completed a new Pilates routine with increased weights, and held your yoga stretches for a whole 20 seconds longer than usual, and even the 15-minute warm up run seemed easier than usual), you finally manage to walk up to him.

You’re regretting it the moment you start walking towards him, only now noticing that he isn’t here alone fuck fuck fuck what do you mean he’s got his bros here?!. You almost make a 180 to turn to leave, but decide to kick yourself in the ass you’re going to die anyway, why not take the chance?. Your Yolo attitude carried your feet across the gym hall, and by some miracle the two guys standing with San start drifting towards a machine, probably to start the next set.

Taking deep breaths you try to hype yourself up, you look down at your clean shoes and revise what you’re going to say. Once your confidence if built up enough (and your short trek across the gym is complete), you muster up the courage to speak to him, lightly tapping his shoulder to call his attention.

He pulls the headphones off his head completely, and turns to look you in the eyes. His eyebrows raise slightly once he takes in your appearance, and you can feel your face heating up at the way his eyes scan your figure. He remains silent but nods his head to you once his gaze returns to your face, bidding you to say your piece.

You collect your scrambled thoughts and practically squeak out the semi-confession „Hi, sorry to disrupt you but I find you really admirable, I hope this doesn’t come out of the nowhere but could I have your number?“ Your eyes are hopeful, and by now you’re sure that a blush has crept its way onto your face- you can feel it down your neck.

You‘re fidgeting with your phone a little, watching his eyes widen and his mouth drop open a little, tongue coming out to dart at his lips before he speaks. „Yeah, sure. No problem.“ His voice is gravely but kind, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up at the success you’ve garnered from the interaction. A little too giddily you open your phone contacts and select a new contact.

Holding out your phone for him to take, you’re caught off guard by his grumbling voice again. „You do Pilates, right?“ your breath halts for a second. Never in your life had you considered it a reality where he would perceive your existence, too. It really didnt occur to you that just as much as you watch him, he could be observing you as well.

„Uh- yeah, yeah i do Pilates. Im usually in the open space though.“ you reply once you found your voice again. He nods thoughtfully in response, „yeah, thats right.. Ive seen you do your routines once or twice. Impressive as hell, i couldn’t do that stuff to save my life.“ a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he finishes typing on your phone, passing it back to you and looking into your eyes again.

You bite back a smile and look down at your phone to avoid his eyes, shy from the compliment. „Oh, thanks…“ you hear him chuckle. „Hey, lemme get your number too, ill reach out first since you beat me to taking the first step.“ your eyes flick up to meet his again, wide in surprise. „Huh?“ you look down to his hands where he holds out his phone on front of him, eyes expectant and warm.

He sighs and gestures for you to take the phone, which you do almost reflexively as he explains: „Well, you’re braver than me for approaching first, I’ve been noticing you for a while now, never had the confidence to go up to you though. I was worried I’d scare you away.“ You look at him in disbelief, your mind racing with thoughts as your gaze shifts to the heavy phone in your hand.

„Oh…“ your voice is quiet as you numbly type in your number, filling the contact as your name. A smile that mirrors his crosses your face when you look back at him, and you both end up giggling as you stare at another in silence, smiling like teens.

Once you’ve calmed down you avert your gaze again and shrug. „So… see you around??“ he nods almost immediately, arms flexing as he reaches up for his headphones again. „Yes! I mean- yeah sure.“ he corrects his overzealous tone and coolly coughs to cover it up, cringing a little at himself, and you laugh a little. „Okay, bye then!“ you send him a little wave and turn around to collect your things and head to the changing rooms to leave, a little pep in your step.

Glancing into the contacts of your phone you notice that not only did San leave you with his number, but he added a note into the contact itself: „Meet me tomorrow in/after gym, same time as today? Maybe i can spot you, and maybe you can help me stretch? And maybe we can grab some food afterwards???“ you almost die right then and there, head floating in the coulds as your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling.

What you dont see though, is the way his friends rush over to him once you’ve left, bombarding him with a million questions and clapping him on the back in congratulations. „Wow! Sannie!!! The cute little Pilates chick? Fuckin‘ score man!“ Mingi claps his hands in approval, nodding hard as he watches your form leave the gym. „Who knew that San had this kinda game, damn good on you.“ Wooyoung still has his hands on San‘s shoulders, rubbing them up and down roughly.

San doesnt say anything, just standing there, soaking in the moment, chest warm and stomach fuzzy as he thinks back to your interaction. From one moment to the next however, his face falls. „Fuck.“ he curses, voice flat. Both Mingi and Wooyoung look at San‘s face, and then one another. „What do you mean? You just bagged all that, and you’re worried about anything??“ Wooyoung looks at him incredulously, expression almost comical. San shakes his head with a blank face his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed. „Where do i take her to eat? And how the hell do i become flexible by tomorrow?!“

[sturn-saturn]

sick days

pairing: fem!reader x matt

warnings: nothing really just fluffy stuff oh and matt’s sick with a cold

a/n: not proofread

the time on the oven reads 4:16pm. you’re standing in front of the fridge scanning every shelf to try and come up with something you can make for matt.

matt gets sick pretty easily. he recently slept in the living room with the ac on blast which caused him to catch a pretty bad cold.

“matt!! you alright in there!?” you yell from the kitchen hearing him let out a cough.

“yeah!” he tries to yell back.

an idea sparks in your head and you grab your phone texting a certain someone.

you make your way to your shared bedroom to check in on matt.

“hey sweetheart.” he croaks out.

“hey love. i’m gonna run to the grocery store and grab some things for dinner alright? if you need anything at all call me.”

“i will. oh! could you get me those cough drops you got last time they helped a ton.”

“of course bug. i’ll be back soon!” you say kissing his forehead.

one hour later…

you make it home and start playing your grocery bags on the counter. you wash your hands in the kitchen sink and decide to check in on matt again.

“hey im back.”

“i missed you.” he says.

“did you?”

“of course,” he smiles. “i wish i wasn’t sick so i could kiss you. you know i love kissing you.”

“i know you do but you’ll feel better soon and you can kiss me all you want.” you laugh.

“i’m looking forward to it.”

“alright im gonna go start dinner, okay?”

“yes ma’am.”

you make your way to the kitchen and unload the grocery bags and prepare all your ingredients.

cooking is absolutely one of your love languages. you love feeding those around you and you love cooking with those you love. you and matt make it a little thing ever friday night to try and follow a new recipe and you always have so much fun.

you tasted the meal one last time before plating it into matt’s favorite bowl. you made sure to grab him a bottle of water to keep himself hydrated and some painkillers for his headache.

you walk into your shared bedroom with a tray of matt’s dinner and place it on the nightstand.

“dinners ready bug, cmon.” you say.

matt sits up against the headboard and adjusts himself taking the bowl into his hands.

“mmm, this smells amazing thank you so much.”

“you’re very welcome.”

matt takes a spoonful of the chicken noodle soup and his facial expression immediately change.

“what’s wrong? is it too salty? does it taste weird?”

“no no it’s just i feel like ive had-“ he cuts himself off. “did you ask my mom about her chicken noodle soup?”

“i did. i remember you telling me how she always made you and your brothers chicken noodle soup growing up when you had a cold,” you smiled moving his hair away from his eyes to see them looking shiny. “i thought id text her and ask her how she made it so i can make it for you.”

matt carefully places his bowl on the tray that resides on the nightstand and throws his arms around me.

“y/n you have no idea how much this means to me.” he says as his voice breaks. he lets go of the hug and holds my hands. “it sucks not being around my family as much as im used to, so you putting in this much effort to make me something that reminds me of home means the world and i can’t even express how amazing you are.”

“oh matt, it’s nothing sweetheart i just want you to feel better.”

“you being here with me is already helping.” he smiles. “i love you.”

“i love you more, you fool. cmon eat up so you can feel better.”

[writer-in-theory]

"It's a wonder Steve's survived this long, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie hissed.

Eddie hasn't stopped pacing the hospital waiting room ever since Steve was taken back for 'testing'. The doctors had listed out various scans but there were too many acronyms to keep track of. All Eddie knew was that Steve had been hiding his pain for at least a day, maybe longer, until he collapsed at work with Robin.

That was the second worst call Eddie had ever gotten in his life.

"Harrington?" the doctor called out then, holding onto a metal clipboard tightly and looking around the busy emergency room. In an instant Eddie was on his feet, practically sprinting to where the doctor was standing.

"How is he, doc? Get to keep all his fingers?" He wanted to joke, but the words fell flat in the sterility of the room. The last time he'd been here had been after...No. The Upside Down had long since been closed off from their world and Vecna was disintegrated into that weird otherworldly ash. It was over.

"Are you family?"

Nancy and Robin had prepped him for this one, too. In everything but the law, Eddie and Steve were husbands. They'd had a wedding with Robin and Dustin as their Best (Wo)Men and Wayne as their officiant, in the middle of the night where no one would notice but them. They'd celebrated their fifth anniversary two weeks ago, they were the loves of each others' lives. But to the government, to this doctor, they weren't anything but friends who shared a bed. Fuck the nineties.

"Yeah, he's my brother-in-law," Eddie answered, knowing when Nancy showed up they could pass this lie off decently. "How's Steve doing?"

The doctor gave him a long look, but otherwise nodded and rechecked his clipboard. "Mr. Harrington is getting prepped for emergency surgery, currently, as he's s—"

"Emergency surgery? What do you mean surgery?" Already Eddie could feel the tell-tale warning signs of panic as his heart began to race and his palms got sweaty. Surgery wasn't good. They weren't supposed to do this. No more hospitals, no more surgeries, no more 'wait and see's. They'd promised after last time, Steve promised.

"Sir," the doctor pushed, looking more irritated than concerned. "This is a routine procedure, we see it all the time. Mr. Harrington has a case of appendicitis, pretty bad by the looks of it. Has he been feeling any pain lately?"

"Yeah, yeah the bastard has," Eddie hissed, not sure if he was about to laugh or cry. Appendicitis. Fucking appendicitis. He'd had that as a kid, he still remembered all the popsicles and ice creams Uncle Wayne let him have in the days after, cooped up in the trailer watching boring TV shows while all his friends were at school. "Is he already in surgery? Can I see him?"

"He's being prepped, but you can see him. We gave him some medication to calm him down and ease his pain, so Mr. Harrington may be...out of it," the doctor warned as he led Eddie through the maze of hallways behind the front desk. "Next time, let your brother-in-law know he shouldn't ignore this kind of pain."

"Oh don't you worry, doc, I'll make sure to pass on the message," Eddie answered, practically glaring at the closed hospital room door. Fucking appendicitis and Steve had ignored it, passed it off as a pulled muscle after a run.

Seeing Steve in a hospital bed didn't get any easier, though it was hard to be angry or scared when the man's head lolled across the pillow to reveal a brilliant, out-of-it smile Eddie had never seen before. "Eddie!" Steve cooed, reaching his arms out for the other man.

Eddie couldn't help but laugh, crossing the distance quickly so he could press Steve's arms back to the bed. "Hey, c'mon now, Harrington, don't wanna pull that IV line out."

"Did they tell you they're stealing my organ? They're stealing it, Eds!"

"It's a pretty useless one anyway, you won't even miss it."

Steve's face scrunched up at that, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "How dare you! Of course I'll notice one of my little guys got separated! What if he gets lonely?"

"You're..." Eddie tried not to laugh, if only because he's sure that'll make Steve fly off the handle even further. He scrubbed a hand across his tired face, sure his expression was full of nothing but fondness now for the man laying in the hospital bed. "You're afraid your appendix will get lonely?"

"I just...they're all meant to be together, you know? You can't separate one and expect it won't get lonely. Don't let them steal my organ, Eds."

"I," Eddie began, unable to help the smile that pulled on his lips. "Stevie, baby, it's not stealing if a doctor does it. They're taking it out because it's being a troublemaker. It doesn't belong there anymore, you can't keep trying to make it fit somewhere it doesn't."

"Never stopped me before," Steve answered with a little slur. "Maybe I like troublemakers." Then, leaning over with his hand by his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper, he said at full volume, "I mean you, Eddie."

There was no laugh like the one Steve was able to pull from him, of that Eddie had learned years before. He laughed until his chest hurt and tears gathered in his eyes, until even the nurse peeked their head in to check on the two of them.

"C'mon, Stevie. You go be a rockstar in there and I'll be right beside you when you wake up. We'll go get so much ice cream you forget about your stolen appendix," Eddie offered, pressing a kiss to Steve's non-IV lined hand.

"I'll be such a good rockstar you gotta put me in the band," Steve answered, blowing a kiss to Eddie as the surgical team came in to wheel him off. "Love you, Eds."

Warmth spread through his chest, warming him from the insides out until Eddie worried he might burn up from the intensity of Steve's love. "Love you too, Steve."

Eddie stands and watches as they wheel Steve out of the room, laughing as Steve yelled after him.

"I can't believe you're letting them steal my poor appendix, Munson! I won't forget this!"

[bellarkeselection]

Could you do a will halstead x reader where they’re engaged and she’s a detective in intelligence, she’s been having stomach pains for about a week but put it down to cramps or stress whenever someone asked especially when Will asked but then at work she collapses and when they take her to med they find out the pain was appendicitis and Will’s like why didn’t you say something before

Didn’t Want You to Worry

@annieradcliff

“Y/n, are you sure you're okay in there?” My fiancé Will asked on the other side of the door. We had both gotten dressed and ready for work, me as an intelligence detective and he an ED doc. Unfortunately I felt harsh pain hit me so I went and sat down in the bathroom waiting until they went away.

I assumed it had to be cramps or something like that. Except I didn't think my period was supposed to come for another two weeks. “I'll be fine, Will. It's just some cramps is all. If you need to go to work that's fine.”

“Okay. You know I can stay home if you want to and take care of you if you're not feeling good.” He explained through the other side of the door.

Pushing myself up off the ground I felt them disappear allowing me to open the door and give him a half smile. “Seriously it's nothing. My period is probably coming earlier or it's just stress from the long case we've been working on.”

“Okay just call me if it's gets any worse.” He leans forward planting a kiss on my forehead before he left our apartment.

Making my way to work I was simply sitting down at my desk moving through fingers files on the computer till another wave of pain shot through my body. “Ah! Son of a bitch.” I winced gripping the wood of my desk underneath my fingernails.

Voiets office door opened and Will's brother Jay came out coming over to talk to me. “It's crazy to think you're going to be Mt sister in law in a few more weeks. Hey are you alright?”

“Just some pain stomach pain today - are you bringing Hayley to the wedding?”

Jay sat down on the edge of my desk scanning his eyes over me. “Do you want me to get you some advil?”

“No, I can get it myself. I have some in my locker. I'll be right back.” Standing up from my desk chair I had managed to walk into the hallway before my eyes grew heavier and my body fell forward where I collapsed into the nearest door.

I could hear Jay holler my name, coming around the corner to see what had happened. “Y/n! Oh geez. Voiet call an ambulance.”

“Jay - I'm - okay.” I croaked out barely able to keep my eyes open.

He brushed hair out of my face seeing I was struggling to stay awake. “Just hang on, Y/n. We're gonna get you to Med.” After that I must have blacked out because the next thing I knew I was waking up in the ED, laying on one of their hospital beds.

I began looking around the room noticing that there was an iv in my left hand and the screens were popping up with all different kinds of numbers clearly reading my vitals. “Where is she. Where is she, Msggie!” I recognized Will’s voice coming down the hallway.

“She’s in here.” Maggie drew open the curtain to my room.

Will bolted inside the room rushing to my bedside. “Y/n! Oh my god I knew something was wrong this morning. Why were you trying to act like it wasn’t?” His eyes scanning over mine almost a mile a minute.

I shake my head wishing he wouldn’t worry. “Will, I just got light headed. I'm probably dehydrated. Just give me some liquids and I'll be on my way.”

“Y/n, Jay told me you collapsed st work. That isn’t something minor.” Will spat me with worry in his voice.

I huffed crossing my arms over my chest seeing the curtain move again and Dr. Manning enter the room with an iPad in her hands. “Hi Y/n, how are you feeling?”

“I'd feel a lot better it I was out of - he-ah!” I gasped holding my stomach trying to curl myself into a ball on the bed.

Will rubbed my lower back keeping his other hand on my shoulder eyeing his friend. “Nat, what's wrong with her?”

“I wish I could say it was something minor but it’s not. You are actually going to need surgery. You have something wrong with your appendix. That’s why you’ve been feeling so much pain for the past couple of weeks.”

Will sent her a look asking. “Can you give us a minute, Nat. Y/n, why didn’t you tell me sooner and just have been lying about it.”

“I didn’t want to worry you. You already have enough on your plate with getting the wedding venu and everything else. I didn’t want to add onto the stress when I really believed it was my period cramps or stress myself, at least until this morning.”

Will closed the gap between us, cupping my face in his hands kissing me deeply. “I’m gonna be your husband, babe. You don’t have to keep things from me. I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Thank you, Will. I - I really appreciate you saying that to me,” I sniffed through happy tears relieved that he would be for me no matter what came our way. Our jobs in day to day life was hard enough, but we’d get through everything together. “I love you, Will Halstead.”

He smiled down at me, kissing my forehead sweetly. “I love you too, soon to be Mrs. Halstead.” I must have gotten pretty lucky to end up calling him my husband for the rest of my life.

[healmyhrt]

could you do Matt x reader smut where reader wears something showy to her friends birthday party and Matt gets like turned on and you can take over the rest!

⌗ crush, m. sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt has had a crush on you for the longest, and you’ve had strong feelings toward him too. after a summer fling with him, things turn awkward, and you both have a feeling of relief thinking that you’ll never see each other again… until your best friends birthday party.

disclaimers!: flirting, heavy making out, thigh riding, alcohol consumption, cursing, and use of y/n

a/n: guys question, is it technically “aftercare” if u don’t fuck??? like if you just js did oral shi or something idk 😣 anywho enjoy babes

i slowly creep into the dark entry way, removing my jacket as quietly as possible. i feel a hand tap my shoulder and i grip the fingers, trying to recognize who it could be.

“y/n?” a voice whispers. it was nick.

i reach in and hug him, squeezing tightly. i can feel him smiling against me. “hey, how are you?” i whisper back.

“good, you?” he replies, holding my hand and leading me through the dark hallway. “eh, so-so. is she here yet?”

a few friends and i were throwing a surprise party for my best friend, mia, she’s turning 21.

“she’ll be here in a few, but come on, everyone’s in here.”

i enter the dining room, seeing a crowd of some familiar and unfamiliar faces, candles lit in front of them.

i scan the group, looking at everyone, when my eyes come to an abrupt stop. there he was, matthew.

his blue eyes glistened behind the candlelight, and he stared right through it, straight at me. fuck.

i tap nick as he swivels around, handing me a candle.

“what the hell is he doing here?” i question. nick looks over at matt, then back at me. “um, he knows mia?”

i roll my eyes. nicks face changes and he raises an eyebrow. “have you two still not talked since the summertime?” i shuffle in place, looking at the floor.

“no…”

nick groans. “jesus. just—sort things out tonight, okay? you two can not ruin this night for mia. got it?” he says.

i nod, and glance over at matt, who was still staring.

chris sprints into the dining room, and catching his breath before speaking. “guys, they’re here!”

we all become quiet as the front door creaks open. i look up at nick who’s looking at me, trying not to smile.

mia slowly enters the dining room, a white blindfold tied gently over her freshly curled hair. she begins to untie it, and nick looks at everyone, holding up three fingers.

“3…”

“2…”

“1…”

“SURPRISE!” we all shout, seeing mia’s face. she immediately smiles, and holds her hands to her face.

“you guys!” she beams.

everyone rushes over, hugging her uncontrollably. i step back into the hallway, freeing myself from the crowd.

i sigh, looking over and seeing matt. he gives me a small smile, and i look the other way, turning toward the stairs.

it had been about 2 hours since we surprised mia, and now the entire house was packed. the small gathering had turned into a big party.

i had stayed holed up in mia’s room, drinking, as friends came and went, bringing me more and more.

now, i wasn’t drunk. they only brought me cans of sprite with a little bit of vodka in it. thats it.

and ive only had like 3 or 4 of them.

but i knew after a while id have to pee, and eventually leave mia’s room, placing myself back into the craziness that was downstairs.

i patt my hands dry on my favorite cardigan, shutting the bathroom door behind me. stepping down the steps into the chaos, i pass by multiple people making out on the steps.

i see mia at the bottom of the steps, and it gives me a sense of direction. she sees me and smiles immediately, running into my arms. “y/n!” she beams. i grin back.

“god, i feel like i haven’t seen you all night!” she grabs my forearm, dragging me into the living room. we stumble across a couple making out on the couch.

“can we sit here?” mia questions, with a smile.

they move over, and continue. “mia, im not sitting next to a horny ass couple.” i groan. she pulls me down next to her, and displays her legs across mine. “sooooo…”

i raise an eyebrow. “so, what?” she giggles, biting her bottom lip. “did you see him?” i cross my arms.

“you invited him? god—mia!” i scoff.

she laughs. “y/n, you two need to sort things out. tonight. okay? i can’t have two of my closest friends not being able to stay in the same room as one another.”

“you sound like nick.” i reply. she smirks. “well, yeah. it was our plan all along.” i playfully push her away with a little smile.

“look, please just talk to him.” she says, giving me a look.

i sit in silence fidgeting with my fingers. she places a hand on my fingers, and i look up at her. “okay.”

she claps enthusiastically, standing. “yay, y/n!”

i laugh. “im gonna go find myself another drink. want anything?” i shake my head. she blows me a kiss, and walks off, her dress swaying gracefully with each step.

i sigh, standing up. i look over at the couple next to me.

“you guys can—y’know—do your thing.” i gesture to the sofa. they give me a thumbs up, and immediately lay down, continuing. gross.

i make my way outside, onto the front porch.

i sit, flinching at the cold pavement against the back of my thighs. my skirt was very short, and i didn’t have any tights.

the door opens and shuts behind me, and i turn around to meet a very familiar face. “matthew.” i say. “y/n.”

he walks past me, and unlocks his car. i watch him stop, and turn around. “wanna—come with?” i give him a confused expression.

“we need more ice. im just gonna run to a gas station.”

i shrug, and stand, walking over to his car. matt opens the door for me, and i give him a small smile, stepping in.

after waiting in the car for a while, matt finally exits the gas station, carrying the last bag of ice. about time.

he gets in the car, wiping his now wet hands against his jeans. “took you long enough.” i tease. matt chuckles.

“i know, usually doesn’t take me that long to get my hands this wet.” he smirks. i shake my head, looking out the window, attempting to hold my laugh in.

“let’s just go.”

the drive back was silent. (minus the ice tumbling around in the backseat.) we caught almost every red light, and matt and i would just shift in our seats, trying not to make eye contact with one another.

as we pull in the driveway. i unbuckle my seatbelt, trying to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

“so, we aren’t gonna talk about it? at all?”

i knew it.

i turn around, and sigh. “fine. let’s talk, matt.” i say with a long stare. he clenches his jaw, and rests his hands on the steering wheel.

“we had sex. big deal.” i throw my hands up in the air dramatically. matt scoffs and looks at me, almost as if he was about to cry. “it was a big deal to me.” he stares.

i purse my lips together. “well, it doesn’t seem like it, seeing as you lack common communication skills.”

“i wanted to text you, or call you—just hear your voice at all after that night, but i was too afraid.” matt looks out the window beside him, and gently taps the steering wheel with his fingertips.

my face softens, and i slowly reach out to the place a hand on his. but before i even reach him, i pull away.

“why were you afraid, matt?” i question. i was genuinely curious to hear his answer, too. matt had gone full no contact with me after that night, all because he was afraid? it just didn’t make sense.

“because i like you.”

my eyes widened as the words left his mouth. i didn’t know what to say—how to even respond. it was insanity.

did i like matt? i mean, i guess.

no—sure—yes.

yes, i do like matt. i just get my feelings mixed up and lost in my mind. i mean, could we really work?

“y-you do?” i stutter out. matt turns around, and im left to drown in his eyes. he softly nods, and i form a smile.

i look down at my hands and begin to fidget with my rings, swallowing before i speak. “i like you too.”

i look up to see a smiling matt, and i grin back.

i sigh, looking out the window. “look at us, using the word ‘like’ to describe our feelings. what’re we, five?” i laugh, making him chuckle.

i turn back toward him, and matt immediately smashes his lips onto mine. i lean in, him caressing my cheeks.

matt swings an arm around my waist, fully pulling me onto his lap. i smile against his lips, reaching down and unbuckling his seatbelt beneath me.

matt bucks his hips up at the feeling of my fingers on him. i feel his bulge rub against my bare thigh, and he pulls away.

“s-sorry. is that weird?”

i shake my head. “not at all. it just shows that you really do like me.” i say with a smile, placing a hand on his jaw, and pulling him into me again.

matt takes off my cardigan, tossing it in the passengers seat. he places his hands on the seam of my miniskirt, and stops, pulling away. “can i?”

pushing my lips back onto his, i mumble “yes”, and matt pulls away again. i sigh irritably, and he gives me a look.

“use your words if you want this.”

i bite my bottom lip, matt’s eyes on them. i bite the inside of my cheek, and look out the window. matt places a soft hand on my jaw, turning me to look at him.

“hey, if you don’t want to do this, we can just head back inside. i’ll just be glad that we’re good again.” he smiles.

i nod, and he raises an eyebrow. “i want to do this.”

matt’s smile turns into a smirk, and he pulls my skirt up to my waist, places both hands on my ass. i smash my lips back onto his, smiling against him.

matt tightens the grip on my hips, leading them. i slowly begin to grind against his clothed bulge. matt pulls away, breathing heavily against the side of my face.

i continue, matt now kissing down my neck, struggling to contain himself. he’s practically digging his fingers into my skin, guiding my hips.

i pierce my lip with my teeth, trying to stop the moans that threatened to escape my mouth. “matt…”

“almost…” he pushes himself against me, making the sensation even more intense. my panties are probably a leaking mess on him as my eyes begin to water from the stimulation.

matt slows to a stop, and he catches his breath. i breathe heavily into his neck, my mascara smudging on his skin.

he pulls me off of him to take a look at my face.

“are you okay? was it too much?” he questions, genuine worry taking over his expression. i wipe the smudged mascara off of my face, smiling at him. “i’m okay, matt.”

he pulls me in, hugging me tightly. “i’m so glad we’re good now. i’ve missed you so much, y/n.” i grin widely.

i pull away, sniffling. we just stare at eachother, and i look down, my skirt still at my waist. “we should probably fix ourselves before we go back inside.” i say through a breathy chuckle.

“yeah.” matt replies. i climb off of his lap, pulling down my skirt in the passenger seat. matt looks down at his jeans, a wet spot on his crotch. i stifle my laughter, matt turning to look at me.

“i can’t go inside like this.” he says through a laugh.

“at least they’re dark wash denim.” i shrug, still laughing. he scoffs, and attempts to wipe it off.

“matt, it’s not going anywhere. it’ll be fine, it’s pretty dark inside anyway.” i reassure. he looks up at me, a small smile on his lips.

we climb out of the car, matt grabbing the slightly melted ice. “probably could’ve chosen a better time to do that.” he jokes.

we enter the foyer of the house, mia meeting us at the door. “soooo, are you two good now?” she asks eagerly.

i look at matt, and he gives me a smile.

“yeah, we’re good.”

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act IV, Scene I: The Unspoken Words)

You’re determined to avoid talking to Spencer, but no matter how hard you try to shut him out, he’s just as stubborn as you.

Part warning: Inaccuracies of workplace relationship policy slash agreement, angst Words: 3.7k A/n: even in the middle of angst I manage to find humor in all of this😭 I'm just gonna accept that this is my writing style

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“I’m afraid I can’t change any statements under the agreement,” Hotch said, his arms crossed loosely over his desk. He seemed more weary than confrontational, as if he’d already had a long morning before this conversation even began. You stood in front of him, trying not to show your frustration after you rushed into his office the moment you arrived, but this was not the response you were expecting.

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean you can’t change it?”

“It’s policy,” your boss explained curtly. “To change the status of your relationship, both parties need to come to me together and agree on the new terms.”

“What kind of rule is that?” You glanced around the room, scanning the shelves and corners as if searching for an answer to this bureaucratic nightmare in the shadows. You found none, just the sterile walls reflecting back at you. You began to pace. “Can’t there be any exceptions?”

“Unless there’s an issue of harassment or coercion, the policy still stands.” He leaned back against his chair. “Is there anything like that going on?”

Your frown deepened, and you stopped to face him. “No.”

“Then there’s nothing I can do.”

And here you thought you could end this charade once and for all.

“This is ridiculous, you don’t need both of us here. Reid would agree with me anyway,” you stated assertively, trying to sound confident. You then noticed the way his gaze shifted slightly, avoiding direct eye contact. “What?”

Hotch paused, his shoulders slumping just a fraction. “He came to see me this morning.”

Your stomach dropped. “He did? What did he say?”

“He didn't go into details,” he explained, carefully choosing his words. “But he mentioned you might come to talk to me and suggested that things were... complicated between you two.”

You leaned against the nearest wall, suddenly feeling drained. “Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "What else did he say?"

“He seemed genuinely worried,” Hotch said. “He thought it might be better if I could convince you to think things through before making any decision."

You let out an exasperated sigh. You couldn't believe he went through a third person to get his point across. Technically, you did avoid his calls last night—how could you not when you needed a piece of mind?—but you didn’t expect him to involve your boss like this. “So you’re saying he's worried about me being too impulsive?” You crossed your arms defensively. “Isn’t it my decision to make, not his?”

Hotch’s expression softened slightly, the crease on his forehead smoothing out as he spoke. “It is your decision, but it also needs to be a mutual one. Unless both of you are on the same page, my hands are tied.”

The only hands you wanted to tie were Spencer's. The thought of dragging him into this office was growing more appealing by the second. "If I manage to get him to agree, will you then make the changes?"

He nodded slowly. “If you come to me together and agree that it’s what you both want, then yes, I can finalize that."

That was how you found yourself searching for someone you didn’t want to confront. Your feet dragged you out of Hotch’s office once you promised him that you would bring Spencer along with you by the end of the day, but to do so, you had to find him first. He wasn’t at his desk, he wasn’t in the conference room, and he wasn’t even making his usual mid-morning coffee. You decided to walk up to Derek and ask his whereabouts.

“You’re looking for your own boyfriend?” Derek teased, the corner of his lips twitching into a sly grin. He was sitting in his chair, casually leaning back as he glanced up from his paperwork.

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“If you can call trying-to-break-up-with-him-but-he-refuses-to acknowledge-it trouble, then yes, this paradise isn’t looking so great.”

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing you with an intensity that made you feel like he was trying to read your mind, or worse, profile you, which was the last thing you needed right now. “You’re really breaking up with him?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.” When he gave you a skeptical look, you shrugged firmly. “I do.”

“You sure you’re not overreacting over a small fight or something?”

You made a face. “This is not the way you should respond to someone who’s going through a breakup,” you said, trying to ease the sudden tension in your shoulders with sarcasm, which seemed forced but necessary. It was the only way to keep you sane. “Do you not have any shame?”

"You don't even look that upset."

“Well, I am,” you retorted. “I'm heartbroken and frustrated, and as someone who sees you as an older brother, this is the part where you’re supposed to beat him up or something.”

His features softened as he noticed the way you shifted from one foot to another, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. The hard lines of his face relaxed. He slowly stood up and walked around the desk, opening his arms. You met him halfway, placing your head on his shoulder, your arms hanging limply at your sides as he wrapped his toned arms around you.

“Is that what you want? You want me to beat him up for you?”

The mental image of Derek trying to throw a fist at Spencer flashed through your mind and you couldn’t stop the small laughter falling from your lips. “No. He’ll probably snap like a twig if you try to lay a finger on him.”

“The kid’s been doing his training lately,” Derek noted. “He might actually surprise you.”

You slightly pulled away, giving him a mock glare. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

A crinkle formed at the corners of his eyes as he grinned. "I'm always on your side." He draped an arm over your shoulder and guided you out of the bullpen. "Come on, I think Garcia brought in her special treat bag today."

Your ears perked up. "Cookies?"

Derek chuckled, leading you through the maze of desks and toward Penelope's office. "Cookies, brownies, and who knows what else. She’s been on a baking spree."

You could use some sugar. You could also use a distraction, and the more you thought about it, the more your tense mood lifted slightly. But the moment you stepped into Penelope's lair, you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes widening as you saw Spencer sitting next to her with a cookie in his hands. You instinctively pointed a finger toward him.

"You!" The word escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Spencer glanced up at your sudden outburst, the cookie halfway to his mouth. "Eating a cookie?"

You barely held back a scoff as you strode into the room, crossing your arms over your chest. "What did you tell Hotch?"

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What are you talking about?"

Penelope's eyes darted between the two of you. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

Ignoring her concerned and slightly confused look, you fixed your gaze on the man who had been causing you so much frustration. "I went to Hotch and he told me you spoke to him this morning." You took a step closer. "What did you say?"

Spencer's eyes widened slightly, and he carefully placed the cookie down on a paper plate resting at the edge of Penelope's cluttered desk. "I told him that things between us are complicated and that we might need more time before making any changes to our agreement.”

Penelope swiveled in her chair, the furniture creaking under her sudden movement. "Wait, are you two breaking up or something?"

Derek shifted uncomfortably behind you, gesturing toward the door. "Come on, baby girl, I think we should leave."

"Shh! I wanna hear this."

You barely noticed their exchange behind you, your eyes too fixated on Spencer. At this point, you were beyond worrying about who heard your conversation, you just wanted to put an end to everything—the lie, the pretense, the unresolved feelings. You were too exhausted to navigate these complicated emotions, too drained to keep pretending everything was fine. The desire to protect yourself outweighed any concern for an audience.

"Reid," you called sharply, emphasizing his last name as a clear sign of the boundary you were creating between you. The slight wince on his face confirmed that you struck a nerve. "There's no need to think this through anymore, you know I want to end things."

He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I know."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make sure you don't make a mistake you'll regret."

You shot a sharp glance at him. "The only mistake was pretending this—" you paused, searching for the right words. Fake relationship? The biggest lie of your life? "—this... situation could work out in the first place."

Spencer’s gaze flickered with hurt, a shadow crossing his features before he quickly masked it. “So you’ve decided it’s all a mistake? Including last night?”

“I decided nothing on a whim,” you replied. “I’ve had plenty of second thoughts about us, and they all lead to the same place. Nowhere.”

“You can’t say that. We should at least—”

You cut him off sharply. “You just don’t get it, do you? There’s no ‘we’ in this. There never has been, and I don’t understand why you’re so determined to force one.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting slightly as he tried to steady his emotions. “No, there is an ‘us’, you just don’t want to admit it, and I’m trying to fix that.”

You finally let out a scoff, the sound jarring in the small, tight space. “By what, running to Hotch? Why did you even think that was necessary?”

"Because it was the only way to get you to talk!" He exclaimed, his voice rising a pitch higher. “You shut me out, and if I have to go through everyone to get you to open up, then I will."

A sense of déjà vu washed over you as you stared at him. It was like being thrown back to the beginning of your fallout and you were replaying the same frustrating pattern, where every attempt to communicate only spiraled into another argument. Most of these fights had been petty, but now, the stakes felt impossibly high.

You suddenly became acutely aware of everything around you—the close proximity between you both, the way the room seemed to shrink as the tension mounted, and how your friends were still watching, silent witnesses to your confrontation. The realization of how inappropriate it was to raise your voice in the office, of how public this argument had become, made you want to take a step back.

“We have nothing more to discuss,” you stated firmly, trying to create some space between you.

He took a step forward. “We both know that's not true."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest. The room seemed to hold its breath afterwards, the only sound came from the soft hum of computers in the background. Derek shifted uneasily, glancing at Penelope before breaking the silence with a low, “Let’s go, Garcia, let’s give them some privacy.”

But before either of them could leave, you shot them a glance. “No. Stay.” Your eyes met Spencer’s again, holding his gaze as you added, “He’s about to leave anyway.”

His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of hesitation, or doubt, or anything that might indicate you didn’t mean what you said. But when he found none, he finally took a step back, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go. But know this—” He paused, looking directly into your eyes. “I’m not giving up on you. Not yet.”

Those words were meant to offer some form of reassurance, showing just how determined he was to fix things, but instead, they left you feeling more unsettled. When he closed the door behind him, you let out a long, weary sigh as your eyes met with Penelope’s. She lifted her plate of sweet treats. “Cookies?”

You shook your head, too drained to muster a response. Her eyes softened, and she stood up, crossing the room in a few quick steps.

“Oh, honey,” she murmured, pulling you into a tight, comforting hug. Her warmth enveloped you, and a lump formed in your throat. You pressed onto her shoulders as you desperately stopped your tears from falling.

You weren’t surprised with Spencer’s relentless attempts to talk to you, it was the fact that you managed to hold back your tears for two whole weeks that truly shocked you. Maybe it was the sudden case that helped you stay distracted. It wasn’t anything major—just a stalking case in town that seemed straightforward to solve, but it was still enough to keep you occupied.

During those two weeks, Spencer tried everything to get your attention. At first, it was through messages. Short, persistent texts that you easily ignored. Then he tried calling, but you always let it go to voicemail, deleting the messages without listening to them. He even showed up at your desk several times, only for you to walk away, finding some lame excuse to be anywhere but there.

There were moments when you’d see him waiting by the coffee machine, hoping to catch you for a casual conversation, but you’d turn on your heel and take the long way around to avoid him. During meetings, when you were gathered around the round table, you made sure to sit as far away from him as possible, refusing to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on your notes instead.

The hardest part of it all was seeing the confusion and hurt in his eyes when he thought you weren't looking, the way he seemed to deflate just a little more with each failed attempt. But you couldn’t let yourself give in, you couldn’t allow the walls you’d built to crumble. You were too afraid of what might happen if you did.

Penelope had noticed, of course. She’d given you looks of concern, her eyes silently asking questions you weren’t ready to answer. Derek had made a few comments, trying to lighten the mood, but even he seemed to sense the depth of the rift between you and Spencer. So you avoided them altogether, throwing yourself into interviews and paperwork while working late into the night and starting early in the morning.

By the time the case wrapped up, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was some time to yourself. It was finally the weekend, and all you could think about was snuggling under a blanket with a mountain of junk food, binge-watching something mindless. But somehow, the universe seemed intent on testing you, because just as you were settling into your couch, you heard a knock on your door.

You could already tell who was waiting on the other side. You could feel it in the way your heart raced and then settled into a tense rhythm. For a moment, you debated pretending you weren’t home, but you knew Spencer well enough to understand he wouldn’t leave that easily.

A knock, then another, and you found yourself dragging your feet toward the door. You weren’t surprised when you peered through the peephole and saw him standing there. You took in his appearance, noticing how his hair had grown a bit longer, falling over his brows in a disheveled way. You also observed the faint shadow of stubble on his jawline. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell you he hadn’t been taking care of himself.

You pulled away, trying to keep your silence. But he knocked again, and then you heard his voice, muffled but clear through the door.

“I know you’re in there.”

To open? Or not to open?

A part of you wanted to swing the door open, to let him in and finally have the conversation that had been hanging over your head for weeks. Maybe this was the chance to finally clear the air, to put everything out in the open and deal with it once and for all. But another part of you was afraid. The cowardly part of you wanted to hide, to avoid the confrontation.

You didn't want to give in to hope only to be disappointed again.

“Y/N, please open the door.”

You rested your forehead against the door. Maybe he would leave if you stayed quiet long enough. Maybe—

“Fine, if you're not going to open it, at least hear me out.”

You closed your eyes. Why was he so stubborn? Why couldn’t he just leave? Why did he have to make this so hard when all you wanted was a moment of peace?

“Please,” he continued. “Just give me a few minutes. If you still want me to leave after that, I will.”

His voice was soft and pleading, carrying a sense of quiet desperation that made it hard to ignore. You fought the urge to open the door immediately, instead taking a few more moments to gather your thoughts. After a long pause, you finally whispered, “You have two minutes.”

You could hear the relief in his breath from the other side. "I can do two minutes," he murmured. The silence that followed was heavy, and you leaned back against the door, feeling its cool surface against your spine. Then, after what felt like an eternity, you heard his voice again.

“I’m sorry.”

You inhaled a sharp breath.

“It seems a little too late, doesn't it?” You could almost sense him flinch on the other side. “I’ve been thinking a lot, about everything—about us. I know saying sorry won’t undo the past, but I mean it. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You listened, arms wrapped tightly around your body. It was as if the physical pressure was the only way to hold yourself together. The silence on your part seemed to spur him on.

“I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about…” he paused, his voice faltering before he cleared his throat. “About what happened that night, how everything just fell apart. I’ve replayed it over and over in my head and you have no idea how I wish I could go back and do things differently.”

You did too. God, you wished you had reacted more calmly that day. You sighed quietly as he continued, “If I could take it all back, believe me, I would. I just…” He trailed off, the question hanging in the air, almost too painful to finish. "I just don’t understand why you don’t want to talk to me now."

And then you felt it—the familiar sting of tears threatening to break through. You took a deep breath, refusing to let them fall when you had been holding yourself together for so long.

"I want to apologize to you in person, but I can’t… I can’t do that if you won’t even look at me.”

His words struck you like a physical blow, and the emotions you'd been trying so hard to suppress began to bubble to the surface. You felt a tightness in your chest, like a weight pressing down, making it hard for you to breathe. And to make it all worse, the memory of that night flashed through your mind. You could still hear the hurtful words, the unbearable silence that followed, the way everything had spiraled out of control so quickly.

You struggled to steady yourself, taking in slow, measured breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. Inhale, exhale. You repeated the motion until you finally found your voice.

“It’s just—I can’t…” The words caught in your throat, and you felt the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. You blinked them away rapidly. “I can’t… talk about what happened without… without breaking down and… and every time I—I think about it, it makes me want to cry.”

It made you feel guilty. It made you feel ashamed, because deep down, you knew you had yourself to blame for how that night unraveled, for the things left unsaid, for the way you both had hurt each other.

“I don’t care if you cry,” he whispered, although you could still hear his voice clearly. "I'll even hold you if you let me, just please, open the door."

You slightly pulled away, your hand hovering over the handle. "Your two minutes is up."

There was a pause, and you could almost hear him holding his breath on the other side, waiting, hoping, before he asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

You felt the cool metal beneath your fingers as you grasped the handle. Did you really want him to go? You always believed that protecting yourself was the safest choice. You had spent so much time building up these walls, convincing yourself that distance was the only way to survive the pain. But as his words lingered in the air, you weren't so sure anymore.

You took a deep breath, the kind that felt like it stretched your lungs to their limit, as if your chest might crack open from the pressure. And then, almost against your own will, you found yourself unlocking the door, slowly pulling it open.

You kept your head down, your eyes first landing on his worn-out Converse. Your gaze traveled along his long legs, then to his chest, taking in the way his jacket looked a little oversized on his frame. You fixed your eyes across the very soft stubble on his jawline, a detail you hadn’t been close enough to notice for too long. And then finally, you met his eyes, and that was when you crumbled.

You wished you were the type of person who could get mad without crying, but you were exactly the opposite. You hated how your emotions took hold of you when all you wanted was to scream at him, to let out the frustration in sharp words instead of broken sobs. And as much as you forced yourself to be strong, the tears came anyway, blurring your vision and spilling over before you could stop them.

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, and without thinking, he reached out, closing the distance between you. His hands hovered for a moment, unsure, before gently cupping your jaw. “No, no,” he murmured. “You’re supposed to cry after we talk.”

Now you just wanted to punch him. But you stopped yourself from resorting to any violence, albeit half-jokingly in your mind. Instead, you let his thumb gently wipe away your tears, you let him draw you into his arms, enveloping you in a warmth that felt hauntingly familiar. It felt the same as it had on his bed, the same as that quiet morning, and as deeply heart-wrenching on that unforgettable night.

You gripped his shirt tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers as you finally let yourself fall into the past.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Brink

summary: you and aaron try for a baby.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

contents: NSFW/18+/MINORS DNI, pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint

wc: 1.2k

gif credit: @hotch-girl

an: first proper hotch fic ive written since sept of last year. hotch girls make some noise, it’s been a long time cominnnnn’! this isn’t beta’d so if there’s typos blame grammarly 🤪

cm masterlist | requests closed

“Oh god, Aaron, please,” You whine softly into the sheets, attempting to rock back against him.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you,” He shushes you gently, pulling back just a bit before easing back inside of you and staying still.

He’s driving you insane in the best way and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

You’re so warm. The warmest you’ve ever been in your life, surrounded by heat, and while you generally prefer to bundle up in the cold there is no other place you’d rather be right now. There’s sweat pooling in the dip of your back, coating every inch of your skin that is practically suffused to Aaron’s. He’s draped his entire body over yours, his hips moving forward in a slow grind that presses the tip of his cock at the spot deepest inside of you.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but what you are sure of is that there was at least a bit of dusk peeking through the blinds when he’d first carried you to bed. You feel as though he’s consumed you— his hands, his mouth, they’ve been everywhere and you haven’t had a single complaint.

You’d told him that evening that you were ready to have a child with him in the most nonchalant way. As always you were perched in his lap, grinding down against him until he’d gone mad and needed you as much as you needed him. And when he had reached for protection like he always does, you grabbed his hand and fixed him with a look that made him feel like you wanted to swallow him whole.

Don’t. I want to try, Aaron. I want you to fill me up, you’d said.

His head had tilted, eyes scanning your face as he assessed you for what felt like an eternity before quietly asking you if you were sure. And when you nodded, opening your mouth to speak, he hadn’t even given you the chance because he lunged forward, pressing his lips to yours in a frantic, hungry kiss. You’d been frozen, succumbing to his mouth before your brain recalibrated, able to match his fervor.

It took no time at all for him to get you both naked, to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue. Aaron’s always giving in bed, but it is his way of taking. Your pleasure and his pleasure are almost one and the same, two veins that feed into each other.

“I love you,” He murmurs against the skin of your neck before pressing a series of kisses to the column of your throat, trailing them over the slope of your shoulder.

You shiver against his mouth, reaching back with a hand to bury it into his messy, slick hair, “I love you, too.”

“Are you ready for me to put a baby in you, sweetheart?”

This time your shiver is more of a shudder. You support your head in the cup of your palm, turning to glance over your shoulder at him as you nod frantically. “Please. Please.”

“One more time, sweet girl, ask me one more time. The way you beg…” He breathes, the sound hitching in his chest.

You notice that his eyes are cloudy, with love and lust, as he stares at you. Your mouth pulls up in a lazy, satisfied smile. Yes, you’re always happy to submit to Aaron, to have him scramble your brain until your only words are his name and some sort of pleading for more. But sometimes —unknowingly— Aaron submits to you too. Your every ask is met with yes no matter how long it’s been, how tired he is— in and out of the bedroom.

“Please, Aaron.”

“I’m right here. Right here, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” He reassures you softly.

Despite that reassurance, he doesn’t quicken his pace or increase the force of his hips. He continues to grind into you, wanting to stay as close to you as humanly possible. To cum as deeply inside of you as possible, hellbent on it to take. And while you’re confused, this much different than how he usually works you both to climax, you trust him with everything.

“Look at me,” He breathes into your ear, and you do, your eyes meeting his once more.

There’s a desperation in his eyes, a wildness you’ve never seen before and you know that he’s just on the brink. His hips move sloppily against yours though there’s still no change in his methods. He feels like he’s acting on instinct, like some need in his body has taken over and he can hardly think about anything but you. The way you smell, the way you feel around him— tight and wet— the way you’re looking back at him with this pleading expression on your face.

The sight of him like this is what sends you over the edge, and you cum with a whine, somehow squeezing him tighter than you had before. He follows you, burying his face in the smooth skin of your back as he fills you with warmth. The groan he lets out is deep and filthy, his breath tickling you and making you squirm. It sends him deeper, and his hips buck forward, keeping every single drop of him inside of you.

If this doesn’t take, he doesn’t know what will.

He avoids putting all of his weight on you by turning you both on your sides, hooking a leg through yours, and wrapping his arms around you so there’s nowhere for you to go— not that you’re in any rush to move. Not that you could with how exhausted you are from being tangled in bed with him for so long.

“Incredible stamina,” You tease as you try to recenter your breaths.

“We’re never doing that again,” He huffs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You laugh softly, leaning into his touch, “What time is it?”

He glances behind him to the clock on his bedside table, and you feel rather than see his grimace. “Eight,” He says reluctantly, knowing what’s about to happen.

You glare over your shoulder at him, “Aaron, I missed my show.”

“Maybe next time, you should tell me you want to have a baby on a day you have nothing to watch,” He says matter-of-factly, mouth twitching as he tries not to laugh.

“I always have something to watch.”

“I’d deem it a worthy sacrifice.”

His words make you smile, heart going gooey. Any grumpiness about your show fades as you nod softly in agreement, “Yeah, me too.”

“And sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” You hum as you lay back against him again, eyes slipping shut.

His lips are at your ear, his voice just a whisper, “I recorded your show. All of them, they always record.”

The smile on your face widens, making your cheeks ache, “You’re a perfect man.”

“I try,” He quips.

The two of you lay there for a while until he convinces you to clean up and order food. And as you sit with your feet in his lap, tuned into your show, Aaron glances over at you, his heart full. He hopes that this little slice of life you have together with get brighter with your growing family.

cm taglist: @ssahotchsbitch , @ssamorganhotchner, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @ssa-montgomery, @thinking-bucky, @ashhotchner, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack , @sunshinemunchkin, @angelfxllcm, @wheelsupmarvel, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch , @crowfootwrites, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @greg-montgomery, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithwho, @honeybrowne, @rousethemouse, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @mayasreadingnook, @lesbianhotch

[c4qwp]

felix catton x fem!reader

| he falls hard for you

📎 tags : fluff, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix bc i’m such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, (my first post…), felix being a fucking cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned

📎 words count : oof idk but not a lot 💀🔥🔥🔥😜😜😜

📎 author's note : this is my first post (so first story), don’t hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn’t my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

felix was a charming, flirty, wealthy and captivating man. everyone loved him. everyone wanted to be around him. it exhausted him. people just wouldn't leave him alone. especially the girls. but he didn’t care about them, you were the exception.

you've only known felix for 6 months, but that hasn't stopped you from liking each other's personalities —and physiques. you're a new student from california studying at oxford, and the handsome british guy hasn't stopped coming to see you to find out more about you.

it all started with a laugh he heard in the hallway. a cute one he thought. and that's how he first saw you.

"hello?" you called loudly when you noticed eyes on you.

the sunlight illuminated felix perfectly as he met your gaze. you were just too cute. your doe eyes watching him while scanning him up and down due to his height.

"hey sorry- ive never seen you here before, are you new?" he asked.

as you were telling your friend to wait for you, an other guy appeared besides the stranger.

"felix where the fuck have you been mate??" a man with curly hair said.

"dude i’m busy let’s talk later" felix replied.

"hey sor-"

and you were gone.

felix didn’t even catch your name and it disappointed him. he likes to meet new people, even more when they’re cute like you.

a month passed after this rather short meeting. as you were revising in the library, a voice called out to you.

"oh hey arent you the new student?"

felix. you heard about him, only good thingd though. you’ve met him but his — pretty face, made you speechless. you felt shy in front of him. now there you are, sitting like an idiot and saying nothing. gosh.

"oh — uhmm hey!" you relied a bit nervously.

"hey! sorry i think we'd met before but hadn't talked more" he said.

"yes i remember." you introduced yourself and smiled.

"i’m felix catton nice to meet you as well" he smiled in turn.

"yeahh i heard about you, felix" you smirked and closed your book.

"oh yeah? i hope you've heard good things about me haha" he said.

"mmhh who knows?" you teased him.

while there was a small blank, he glimpsed your book.

"wait aint no way you’re reading harry potter?!" he said, trying to whisper as much as possible so as not to disturb the other students.

"way. i really like reading books. they're better than movies. and this is not the first time that i’m reading it." you replied.

"it’s my favorite book and it feels good to meet someone who thinks the same about it." he said with a big smile on his face.

it was getting late and you had to get back to your dorm to phone your best friend, who unfortunately wasn't at the same university as you. you exchanged phone numbers and then left.

one day.

one fucking day.

you two were apart for only a day. he sent you the first message and you answered them. he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your eyes and your voice. it was the same for you.

even though you'd only been messaging each other for 2 weeks, he asked you if you wanted to go out somewhere. of course, you agreed and offered to go for a coffee to take a break from studying.

you put on a beautiful white summer dress that showed off your body.

‘i hope i’m not overdoing it...’ you thought.

03:17PM

"i’m so sorry for being late—…" you whispered to the man with a glass of soda against his lips, letting him know you were tired and done with the conversation. your eyes sparkling with joy, your lips curling up into a gleeful smile when you locked eyes with the person you had been craving to see all evening. he hadn't missed one night, not a single one. he was right on time. right there to stay with you, make you feel comfortable, talk to you all night.

you'd laugh, he'd watch.

he'd talk, you'd listen.

"no no don’t wo—" as he turned to answer you, he was stunned by your beauty.

his eyes wandered up and down your face. you noticed him and smiled at him.

‘i hate the way you make me feel — my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet i find it merely impossible to look away.’