#i just have a lot of thoughts about the game idk i keep going back and forth about whether i liked it or not

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or reader going to a football game.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ and we’re back!! hi hi hi. sorry for no new part last week, i was busy as hell. ANYWAY we’re finally meeting reader’s friends !! also guess who managed to finish three different fics today… whew.

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

for the next two weeks, not a day went by that you didn't talk to MalachiConstant; the screen time on your phone almost having doubled. most of the time it was just surface-level stuff; talking about your days, about your interests... but at night, it... changed. it became genuine. real. like you were sitting under the stars together, talking about things that actually mattered.

MalachiConstant: y'know MalachiConstant: sometimes i kinda worry that i'm disappointing everyone around me

YOU: how come?

MalachiConstant: idk MalachiConstant: i feel like i'm fucking shit up all the time MalachiConstant: like i'm a screw up and disappoint everyone

YOU: well, i don't know if it helps, but.. YOU: you haven't disappointed me :).

MalachiConstant: knocking on wood

now, you were sitting with your friends at lunch, occasionally glancing down at your phone screen as if beckoning for the stranger to message you, your lips pursed in thought as the group around you kept chatting, wondering why the boy hadn't texted you all day.

"hey, everything okay?" one of your friends, zainab, asked, looking at you with widened eyes, startling you out of your little reverie. you turned to the girl sitting next to you, feigning a small smile, "yeah, everything's okay."

"she's being ghoooosteed." vivian teased you, causing you to roll your eyes.

"ghosted? by who?" emilia asked with excitement, vivian's statement clearly having piqued both her and zainab's interest.

"it's no one."

"she's lying." vivian grinned, drinking some of her iced latte, "she met someone on that website i recommended. kildareuchats. she told me they've been talking for a few weeks now."

"viv, i told you not to say anything." you groaned, hiding your face in your hand, feeling your cheeks warming up, your next words coming out in an awkward mutter, "only reason i told you was because you saw me text him in the first place..."

"whatever. the important thing is," vivian grinned widely, "our friend here thinks that he's a member of the football team."

"how do you figure that?" zainab asked, and you threw your hands up in slight frustration, "well, i don't know it for sure!" you said, "but he keeps talking about how he has practice, and... he does know a lot about football."

"hot. you're e-dating a football player. who would've thought?" emilia snorted, making you throw a singular fry her way. "i'm pretty sure they have a game tonight."

"oooh, we should go support your boyfriend." zainab squeezed your shoulder and you could feel your face turn warm with embarrassment, "we're not going. and he's not my boyfriend..."

"i can't believe i let you three talk me into this..." you grumbled under your breath, pulling your coat closer to your body, feeling the chilly autumn air in your bones as you sat on the bleachers, watching the game you understood nothing about; when you were younger, your father tried to get you into sports, but most of the time you simply snuck in a book so you wouldn't actually have to focus on it.

"don't try to play pretend." vivian nudged your shoulder and drank out of her slushie, "we all know you're dying to see your cyber-boyfriend."

"again, he's not my boyfriend."

"but you wish he was. bet you've already made him in the sims, and you two have a brood of pixel-kids."

"i don't even know what he looks like."

"well, if it is someone from the football team, he's gotta be at least semi-attractive. have you seen their group picture?" emilia snorted, "everyone is somewhere between seven and ten."

"it's definitely not thornton." vivian snorted, "dude has the emotional capacity of a slinky."

"viv, you do know that that's a dig on yourself?" you raised your brows, "don't think any of us forgot what happened between you two."

"jokes on you." the pink-haired girl stuck her tongue out at you, "i've already forgotten all about it."

"that's what happens when you spike your slushie with vodka."

"don't act like you could focus on this shit sober. besides, this is not about who i've slept with. this is about who you're dying to sleep with." vivian winked and took another sip of her slushie.

"well," you pursed your lips in thought, "he's in a fraternity."'

"that does narrow it a little bit..." zainab mumbled, "maybe maybank? i mean, you did have a crush on him for like, the entirety of freshman year."

"it wasn't a crush!" you held your hands up, "it was... a mere fascination. he had nice hair."

"ah, yes. you were having wet dreams about his hair." vivian snorted, and you smacked her forearm, pursing your lips into a pout as you looked at the field, "how about... mason? he's got that whole broody, mysterious smart guy vibe going for him. he definitely reads vonnegut."

"dodge is a pretty valid option. though, i don't know if chatrooms are his style." emilia tsked, "what about the captain? cameron?"

that suggestion caused vivian to snort and smack the other girl's shoulder, "rafe cameron? yeah, he definitely isn't the type to do that. i think his longest relationship was when a girl accidentally fell asleep in his bed after they hooked up, and he was too drunk to kick her out."

your eyes went to number 9, the name 'cameron' written above his number, making you shake your head and look away before you spoke quietly, "this is stupid. i don't need to know who he is. i don't want to know who he is." vivian wrapped her arm around your shoulder, tugging you close in a comforting gesture; you knew there was truth to your words, but you also knew that the reason you didn't want to know the identity of MalachiConstant was that you knew he'd be disappointed to know who you truly are. to know, that the girl he'd called witty and funny several times actually couldn't tell a joke without stuttering.

after the football game ended with your team winning, the four of you were making your way away from the field, only to hear someone calling out behind you

"viv! vivian, wait up!"

you turned your head to look at who was so eager to talk to your friend, a small snort leaving your lips, nudging vivian's side, "viv, it's your slinky." your friend looked at you with furrowed brows, following your line of sight to topper, the girl letting out an exasperated groan, "is it too late to hide?"

"hey, viv." topper gave the girl a lopsided grin that he surely thought was charming, his face slightly red from the game, "you came."

"most of the school came." vivian gave the boy a narrow, feigned smile before taking another slurp out of her slushie, "whatcha want, thornton?"

"well," the blonde scratched the back of his head while emilia, zainab and you grinned at one another, a strange contrast to the unamused expression on the pink-haired girl's face, "we're having a party, at our frat house. you should come if you feel like it."

"i'll think about it."

"you can bring your friends." topper glanced at the three of you briefly before his focus was fully on vivian once again, "hope to see you there."

"maybe." vivian said, turning around and continuing to walk away, the three of you following behind her, trying your best to control your laughter, "don't say a thing." she warned.

"come on, you've gotta come with me." vivian pouted, spinning around in your office chair, "i can't go alone, z doesn't do parties and em has an essay to finish."

"you know i don't do parties either." you mumbled, absentmindedly stroking angel's soft fur while shopping online for a birthday gift for vivian, "i think i'd suffer a stroke if i even tried to go to a frat party, of all things."

"please! i can't go alone, because then i'll end up hooking up with topper again."

"then just don't go."

"but then i'll have fomo! you know i love parties, i live for-"

YOU HAVE RECEIVED A MESSAGE ON KILDAREUCHATS FROM MalachiConstant. CLICK HERE TO OPEN.

you tuned out everything vivian was saying, instantly clicking the pop-up.

MalachiConstant: whatcha up to?

YOU: nothing much. YOU: trying to stop this annoying wasp from buzzing in my ear

MalachiConstant: a... wasp?

YOU: my friend. YOU: she's trying to get me to go to a party with her. YOU: it's essentially a babysitting gig, though.

MalachiConstant: one party won't hurt you MalachiConstant: wallflower

YOU: how do you know? YOU: what if i have a stroke the moment i step foot into that place?

MalachiConstant: c'mon MalachiConstant: what do you have to lose?

YOU: my dignity.

MalachiConstant: ah, yes. the dignified grandma. MalachiConstant: hey, if the party sucks you can just stand in some corner and send me messages MalachiConstant: might not answer immediately cause i also have a party

YOU: oooh, another frat party?

MalachiConstant: you know me so well MalachiConstant: i dare you to go, poe girl

YOU: this isn't elementary school.

MalachiConstant: i triple-dog dare you

you pursed your lips in thought, looking to vivian and narrowing your eyes at the girl, a pleading look on her face. you groaned, shaking your head in defeat and rolling your eyes, "fine, i'll come with you. but i have nothing to wear."

"don't worry." vivian jumped up from her seat with a victorious smile, ruffling your hair, "you're lucky i'm your fairy slut-mother. with piles and piles of slutty dresses and skirts. i'll go get us something to wear!"

you watched as the girl made her way out of your dorm, her long hair bouncing along with her "nothing too slutty!" you called out after her, before turning back to your computer.

YOU: if i die, i'm blaming you.

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he���s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?�� It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[rat6ix]

HEARTS.

Chishiya x reader

Summary: after a hearts game chishiya needs to remind you hes still here

Warnings: smut (yaaaay), intimacy (runs away screaming), cuddlefucking? Idk it’s a weird position I’ll try my best to explain it, slow fucking, tears are shed (by reader and during sex lolz), kissing (yuck), um more soft stuff idk, reader is mentioned to be a nurse at the hospital chishiya works at.

— 🐀

Wc: 1.5k

—

It was game night at the beach, one of the days you dreaded. You always hoped for a higher level game as crazy as that sounded, you wanted to stay away from the games for as long as possible. Fortunately for you, your visa didn’t expire for another 5 days so you could sit this game day out. However, unfortunately for you, chishiya’s expired tomorrow meaning he had to leave this time. He kissed you goodbye before he zipped up his jacket and got ready to leave, you stayed in the doorway of your room for a little longer than usual, watching him leave.

You didn’t have much to do while he was gone, kuina left for a game too and it wasnt like you were allowed to leave the beach. You didn’t really know anyone besides the two of them anyways so you decided to go down to the bar to get a drink in the meantime. Nothing interesting happened, you got your drink and left. You had no idea what time it was but you knew it had been longer than an hour when you stopped staring at the ceiling, your drink long gone. A click snapped you out of your thought as the door opened revealing a disheveled and bloodstained chishiya.

Your eyes widened as you immediately slid off the bed, eyes assessing him to make sure that he wasn’t hurt. Your hands found purchase on his forearms before you could stop yourself, his jacket miraculously clean but the same could not be said for his face. The blood had been there so long it started drying and you could only assume it wasn’t his. You could tell he wasnt worried about it, more disgusted at the fact someone else’s blood was on his face than anything.

“Im okay, someone’s neck just exploded all over my face.” He said, his voice low as he looked at you.

Your eyes widened for a split second before your eyebrows furrowed, you knew thoes stupid fucking exploding collars were only ever used for hearts games. Your face scrunched up pensively at the thought of him in one, your grip tightening slightly on his arms. Your first game was a hearts game, you and one other person had survived and you spent the rest of the night staring into nothing as the memories kept playing in your head. You’d known chishiya before you both gotten sent to the borderlands, you were a nurse at the hospital he worked at and tried to keep it a secret that you were dating knowing it would cause trouble for your job but you were lucky to find him after you got sent to this place.

You slowly wrapped your arms around chishiya, more of a comfort to yourself than to him. He sighed, wrapping his arms around you in retaliation carefully as to not to put his face on you. You let go of him eventually, ushering him towards to bathroom to shower. He closed the door behind him, clothes in hand that you had given him and it didn’t take long before you heard the shower running. You tried not to stand outside the door like a creep, moving to sit on the hotel room bed as you played with the glass your drink used to be in.

—

After a while chishiya exited the bathroom, a cloud of steam following as he did so. You raised up from your comfortable position before he made his way towards you, your hands finding their way to his now bare hips as he’d decided not to put his jacket back on. You pulled him down making him grunt and fall down onto you, you smiled a little as he raised his upper body to glare at you before smiling himself, albeit a little cocky; you could tell he was glad you weren’t looking at him with that depressing look on your face still. he lowered himself back down but a lot more gentle as he had control of his actions this time.

“I was worried about you.” You mumbled, your lips moving against his neck.

He hummed before speaking, “yeah?”

You rolled your eyes —not that he could tell—before confirming your worry for him. You were always worried when it came to the games, you didnt want to lose him. You squeezed him closer to you, pressing your lips against his neck. He sighed from above before rolling off of you, your face following as you moved over a little to get comfortable when he did so. You moved slightly, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple before looking up at him.

Chishiya hummed, a low sound in his chest almost akin to a purr as he reached to take your shirt off. You raised your arms up so he could pull it off fully, moving them to the back of his neck to pull his lips towards yours when he was finished. The kiss you shared was softer than usual, a kiss with chishiya was usually suffocating, in a good way. As you continued your hands found their way to his swim shorts, untying the string keeping them taut before pulling them down. He broke the kiss paying attention to getting you undressed as well.

The position you both found yourself in was interesting to say the least. Your leg finding purchase on top of his hip while your hand gripped at his hair; pressing short but sweet kisses to his lips that he reciprocated as he slid his cock into you. His hand rested on your hip to keep you in place, his cock stretching you as he went deeper. A heavy breath left him as he bottomed out, he stilled and pressed kisses to your jaw and neck not wanting to rush. He mumbled something unintelligible against your skin before raising his head up to look at your blissed out face.

Your hand moved down from his neck to his shoulders as he began to move as a slow pace; although it was still fast enough to feel good. Your nails dug into his shoulder before you wrapped your arm around him, pushing your head to bury it his neck where his shoulders and head met. You felt chishiyas lips against your own shoulder, whispering something about how good you felt against it. You were sure chishiya felt the smile against him as much as you knew he had a smug look on his face.

The feeling of his cock hitting the spot inside of you that made your head spin caused you to drop your head down to rest on your arm as well as let a moan leave your lips. You heard chishiya chuckle earning a light slap against his back from you as a small blissed out smile graced your face once more. He thrusted into you a bit harder in retaliation causing you to let out a strangled noise as your fingers dug into him, a quiet curse leaving your mouth.

You could feel chishiya coaxing you from your position, no doubt wanting to press his lips against yours for the nth time that night. You let him, pulling yourself from your previous position to lock your lips with his. His hands eventually found their way to the back of your neck before speeding up his pace. Your kiss was broken as you gasped into his mouth, the sudden change causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan. You didnt have to look back down to know chishiya had a shit eating grin on his face, you could picture it perfectly even in your pleasured state.

You couldn’t even tell tears were fathering in your eyes and falling down your cheeks until you felt chishiya using his thumbs to wipe them away, pressing his lips to your face as he did so. A quiet whisper of a praise falling out of his mouth as he pushed you up and down on his cock you with his hands on your hips. You clenched around him at the feeling of him so deep inside of you, his movements stuttering as he let out a groan. There was no doubt he was close , you could tell by the look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth open slightly. But he also knew you were close too, the way you were clenching around him paired with your nails digging into him gave you away.

“Y’gonna cum, hm?” He teased a bit as he looked at you with lust clouded eyes.

You couldn’t get out a verbal answer, settling on nodding frantically. He nodded back before smashing his lips against yours for the final time as you came, his cock twitching as he came inside of you. He stayed like that for a while as you both came down from your highs before pulling out, careful not to get the sheets dirty, he doubted either of you would want to change the sheets after that. You were both breathing heavy as you calmed down, you reached for chishiya’s farthest hand, holding it before you scooted closer to his to rest your head on his chest.

—

Belongs to rat6ix

For: @trishiepo0

A/n: i miss s1 chishiyas eyeliner

[ptergwen]

hi ! i had a dream like this so idk if its too specific or anything hut could u write a fluff/angst about reader being in a beach holiday with family/peter, theyre at the beach swimming and being all cute underwater and stuff- peter tries to hold/grab reader and accidentally hurts them bc of his super strength. theyre mad at him for a bit but they make up that night with heaps of fluff, cuddles, words of affirmation-ect. sorry if thats dumb fhdgdgf thank youuu <33

a boy who's jacked and kind

w/c: 1,109

warnings: a very sorry and sad peter, like two swears

a/n: peep the sabrina reference hehe i had a lot of fun with this one! decided to make it a beach day with friends, i hope that's okay & you enjoy <3

"marco!"

"polo!"

you and your friends scatter around the ocean while peter tries to catch you. you're at the beach for the day, which is exciting because you don't get to go often living in the city. peter pushes through the water with his eyes closed, hands outstretched in front of him. if he catches one of you, he wins.

"marco!"

peter is getting closer to you and ned. mj is the farthest away, deeper into the ocean. she silently signals for the two of you to swim towards her.

"polo!"

you all shout in unison. ned wades through the water frantically, mj continuing to swim in the opposite direction. you're not as quick to pick up on her guidance. you won't be able to make it to the two of them without peter catching you, so you keep swimming the other way.

"marco!"

"polo!"

ned and mj sound kind of far, but you seem to be close. peter follows your voice with a smirk, eyes still squeezed shut.

"marco!"

you can hear peter getting close from behind you.

"polo!"

you look behind your shoulder to see peter nearing you.

"go, y/n!" mj shouts. "run!" ned echoes.

"marco!"

you can't help but let out a giggle as peter gets closer and closer. you leave the water and start running on the wet sand, your boyfriend right on your trail.

"polo!"

peter tackles you from behind, pushing you down and landing beside you. you squeal and land in the sand, hard. it knocks the wind out of you. peter laughs softly and rolls on top of you.

"i win."

your lip quivers a bit, tears pricking your eyes reflexively from the pain of the fall. peter's cocky demeanor instantly changes, going into concerned boyfriend mode.

"baby, what's wrong?"

he catches a stray tear with his thumb, his lips forming a frown.

"why're you crying?"

peter's thumb caresses your cheek. you shoo his hand away.

"i’m not, that just fuckin' hurt. can you get off me?"

peter rolls off of you, watching you get to your feet with furrowed brows.

"oh no, baby, i'm sorry. i just got caught up in the game... i didn't realize how hard i pushed you."

"you have super strength, peter."

you brush the sand off yourself, sniffing back a mixture of salt water and snot. peter's voice quiets.

"sometimes i forget."

"yeah, i know. it's fine."

"but i feel bad." peter stands up. "are you okay?"

he reaches for your hand. you shrug and pull it away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"i'm fine, pete. just gimme a little while."

mj and ned meet you and peter on the sand. they form a circle with you, peter staying back. his eyes remain fixed on you, filled with worry.

"what happened, you let penis parker win? i thought we had a plan," mj jokes. "yeah, why'd you go rogue? we were supposed to stick together," ned agrees.

"i went the other way 'cause i wasn't gonna get to you guys fast enough, then peter tackled me."

their gazes shift over to peter, who sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"dude!" ned punches peter's shoulder playfully. "major foul."

"it was an accident," peter mumbles, rubbing his shoulder.

"sure it was," mj deadpans.

peter is looking at you again, but you avoid looking at him. mj picks up on the tension between the two of you.

"hey, you good?"

"i'm kinda annoyed at peter. it hurt when he pushed me. i know he didn't mean to, but still, you know?"

"what a dumbass. come on, let's go get ice creams or something."

you give mj a half smile, throwing an arm around her shoulders. mj flips peter off as you two pass by him. ned starts yapping to peter about building the perfect sandcastle, but he doesn't listen. he's too distracted by his guilt over hurting you.

-

you're sleeping over at peter's later that night. you'd gotten back from the beach a little while ago, and nothing sounds better than cuddling up in bed with him. he had been trying to give you space since the tackling incident, careful not to be too touchy out of fear of hurting you again.

you feel bad for being kind of cold to him. even though you were upset in the moment, you got over it. you miss him being his usual touchy self. it's peter who's been choosing to distance himself.

peter lets you shower first, then he takes one. he finds you waiting on his bed after. you're wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of boxers.

"c'mere, i wanna cuddle."

"you sure?"

"of course. why wouldn't i be?"

"i just wanna make sure you have enough space. y'know, after earlier."

you groan.

"i’m serious, y/n. i hate that i hurt you."

"peter," you stand up.

"and i’m sorry. really, really sorry. i’m never gonna let anything like that happen ever again, okay? i wasn't thinking."

"i know, peter. accident's happen, baby."

your arms circle around peter's shirtless torso. he doesn't trust himself to hold you just yet, so he keeps his arms at his sides.

"just because it was an accident doesn't make it okay."

you take peter's arms yourself and wrap them around you. his doe eyes meet yours. you hold his gaze reassuringly, an arm around his neck and a hand cupping his cheek.

"i like that you have super strength."

"you do?"

"yeah. it makes me feel safe, knowing you can always protect me. plus, you've got big arms. that's hot."

peter chuckles, perking up at that.

"sometimes you can't help how strong you are. i get it, pete. it's not your fault."

you nudge peter's nose with yours. peter moves in closer to you, letting out a sigh of relief. he kisses your forehead, lips lingering there for a moment.

"thank you. i love you."

"i love you, too."

you leave a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

"sorry i was kinda mean to you earlier. it was just my first reaction."

"no, no. it's okay, baby. i’m the only one who should be sorry."

"stop apologizing. you don't have to be sorry anymore."

"but i am. i’m still really sorry i-"

you shove at peter's chest, making him fall backwards onto the bed, mimicking the way he tackled you earlier. you straddle his lap and take his face in your hands, giggling. peter carefully holds you on top of him by your sides. you lean forward so you're face to face.

"i forgive you."

you connect yours and peter's lips. he happily kisses you back, smiling into it.

tags (old taglist y'all sorry, gotta make a new form!):

@idkeverythingistakennn @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @mystic-writings @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @elllebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @peterficrecs @winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @thismessymasterpiece @alina02 @sapphic_romanoff @itsjanedeluca @lomlbuckyy @prancerrparkerr @urfayevorite @getwellsoontana

[adoristsposts]

all the seasons | quinn hughes

author's note; guys i fear i may be coming back with my first non-song-inspired quinn hughes fanfic... and it's loooong. anything can be a oneshot if you post it all at once, right? summary; when stumbling upon quinn hughes seems to become a year-round habit, it's hard to deny that maybe fate might be pushing the two of you together. word count; 4.7k warnings; a little bit of purple prose probably idk i've been writing this on and off. swearing + mentions of drinking

winter

There is a large chance, you realise, that Quinn Hughes will not like you as much as your best friend has been assuring you. Cole, of course, is beaming at you like he knows some shit is going to go down. The idiot. It had taken a lot of groveling for him to convince you to come - and a lot of whining about how all the other 'old farts' on the team would bore him to death with hockey talk and flaunt their hot girlfriends, making him miss his hot girlfriend who had flown home for Christmas. All of it had ended in the promise that you would get to talk puck with your favourite players and he would buy all your drinks at the bar the eldest Hughes brother had rented out. You had agreed reluctantly. Cole was hard to say no to. After you had spilled hot chocolate all over him his first year in Vancouver and begged him to send you the dry cleaning bill, you had become a bit of a lifeline to the boy. You became someone whose apartment he stayed in whenever he was called up to the Canucks, and someone to drive the long commute to his weekend games. The two of you had become inseparable. Well, separable only by the distance between Vancouver and Abbotsford that you refused to cross on workdays. Recently called up, and staying in the guest room next to yours, Cole had been invited to the Canucks' Christmas party. A party "usually organized by Millsy's wife, but she's like, sick or something" Cole had explained to you. Therefore the responsibility fell on Quinn Hughes. "What are you all stressed about?" Cole asked, looking up from his phone and settling his gaze on you. You had been lost in your thoughts, listening to the hum of the Uber's engine and the quiet radio the driver was playing. "Dude," You breathed out, "I'm going to puke." "You are not" He said, well aware of your dramatics, "going to puke. You will be fine, they'll love you." "In ten minutes I have to talk to the Vancouver Canucks. The captain of the Vancouver Canucks. I deal with enough talking to you." You hissed out, glancing at the Uber. Was this information safe to share? Should you be worried he was going to dox the Christmas party address? Oh, God save us all. Happy birthday, Jesus. Thanks a lot. Cole laughed at you "Would you chill out? I keep telling you Quinn will love you." "I'm chilling out, I promise," You breathed, "Just thinking about all those drinks you're going to buy me." "Alright, alright."

Ten minutes later the two of you were clambering out of the Uber. "Do I look okay?" You asked him, adjusting your dress. He just shrugged and let out a grunt that almost sounded like an 'I don't know.' You rolled your eyes at him but followed him as he led you towards an eerily quiet bar. It was obvious it had been booked for a private event, but the missing element of drunk people lining the streets outside of it made the whole thing feel a little out of place. A pub for Christmas? Cole opened the door for you, allowing you to step inside first and take the place in. Whoever Quinn had hired had done a great job - red tinsel was strewn about just about anywhere it could go. Christmas decorations lined the bar, as well as a handful of Menorahs and other Hannukah decorations. The whole place was alive already. You and Cole were fashionably late, you presumed. "Let's say hi to Quinn" Cole said, pressing a hand against your upper back to help lead you towards the Captain. You wouldn't have needed the help. For God knows whatever reason, Quinn basically shone in gold to you. His face was flushed and his hair slightly sweaty from the pure heat radiating throughout the place. There was a lopsided grin on his face as he smiled at whatever joke the man across from him was telling. The bar lights, slightly tinged red, fell over him like water that cascaded down his strong nose, off his shoulders, and over his body. It was a pull you had never felt before, one that made you forget about the fact Cole was literally pushing you towards the man. Quinn's gaze slid away from his conversation and across the room, obviously taking note of if everything was running well. For a moment it scanned over you before coming back. And for a second, it was like everything in the world fell into place. Almost as if he felt it too, his lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed. Or, perhaps, you realized, he was wondering 'Who the fuck is this girl at my party?' "Quinn!" Cole greeted happily, darting out from behind you and giving the man a hug. Over Cole's shoulder, Quinn held you in a quizzical stare. When he pulled away, he asked, "Who are you?" Cole laughed awkwardly at the blunt question. "This is my friend I was telling you about. The one from Vancouver?" Quinn's face showed no sign of recognising or remembering any mention of a 'friend from Vancouver.' Instead he just stared. It was stranger, probably, that you just stared back. "Okay..." Cole said, glancing between the two of you. "I'm going to go get a drink. You want anything?" "Whatever you think I'd like." You said, finally breaking your gaze to give Cole an appreciative smile. He gave you an odd look and then backed away before fully turning around and heading towards the bar. Just you and Quinn now. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name." Quinn said. His face still held a look of perplexity. He looked so intently at you that you felt like he was trying to figure out if he recognised you from somewhere. You gave it to him, lips curling up as he nodded at the information like it was some interesting fact. "I'm Quinn. I mean- Cole just said it but.. I'm Quinn." You laughed. It really wasn't that funny, but it bubbled out of you before you could stop it. "Hi Quinn."

A few drinks later and you and the captain of the Vancouver Canucks that you were so anxious to meet had been glued at the hip for hours, talking about anything and everything you two could think of. You had wandered out to the outdoor seating of the bar. It was entirely empty, thanks to the freezing conditions of a Vancouver winter that everyone inside was trying to escape from. But you had discovered throughout the night that the heat in your cheeks seemed forever present around Quinn, and the cold air was like a soothing kiss. "Are you cold?" He asked you. "No, are you?" You asked back, eyeing his red nose and bouncing leg. He smiled and shook his head. It was quiet out here. Conversation in the bar had gotten difficult the rowdier everyone had gotten. Cole had long left you two, pouty that you wouldn't save him from awkward conversations he couldn't relate to about marriage and kids with the older guys. Quinn's hand on the railing brushed against yours. "Listen, I don't really know how to approach the topic, but do you think I could get your-" "There you are!" If you could pick a time and place for a person to drop dead, you would pick right here, right now, and Cole McWard. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I am desperate to go home- No offense Quinn, the party's great." "Okay, okay," You said, "Right now?" "The Uber's outside. I've been frantically searching for you ever since I realized you and Huggy here had left your little corner." Shit. Okay. You turned to Quinn. Even at the sight of him, a stupid grin broke out on your face. There was something romantic about him that you couldn't quite place, like it was written all over his face that he should be the star in some cheesy movie about loving and loving hard. "See you around?" You said. "See you around."

"Did you get his number?" Cole asked in the Uber. "No," You sighed, "And fuck. 'Cause he's hot." "If it's meant to be, it'll be." He shrugged.

spring

April hit like a drug. After a few weeks of pining over Quinn Hughes (who had chased Cole down to ask if you were single and then gone radio silent), and then a few hours of remembering you were single and didn't have to care, the first few months of the year had flown by. Work had been hectic, and you loved it. You navigated the isles of the florist's shop, on call with Cole through your headphones. You made a beeline to the lilies, choosing the pink ones and complaining to Cole about some client of yours that had been beyond difficult. "Seems to me like you need to lock Hughesy down and retire so you take all this over-achiever energy and put into being the captain's wife." Cole snorted. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you, "I told you, I'm over that." "You were like, in love with the man." "And he did nothing about it!" You exclaimed, walking up to the cashier and paying for them. You mouthed a quiet thank you and moved on. "He literally always asks me about you." "Yeah, on the rare occasion you get called up. I think that's just called small talk." You huffed. Cole sighed, "Listen, just... I don't know. You guys seemed good together. It'll happen." And then he ruined the moment by quoting Surf's Up "I can feel it in my nuggets." You snorted at him. "Whatever, it's whatever. I've got to get home, I'll call you later, okay?" "Okay, bye." He hung up quickly. No drawn out goodbyes for you two. With a start, you realized you had forgotten to ask him if he had remembered to set aside a ticket for you for his game Saturday. You quickly pulled up your messages, typing out the question for him. About to hit send you- A grunt and the feeling of the hard pavement on your ass stopped you before you could. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, that's totally my fault and- Quinn?" You were surprised by the blue eyes that stared at you as you pick yourself up. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, then open, then shut, like a fish. You furrowed your eyebrows at him. "Are you alright?" He stuttered to life, like a machine rebooting. "Yes! Um, yeah, I'm all good. I haven't seen you since..." "Since the Christmas party." You finished for him. You wanted to press your lips into a thin line, tell him to have a good life, and move on. God, you wanted to. But something about Quinn made your brain muddled. You smiled at him. He smiled back. "Want to grab a coffee? I can buy you some flowers to make up for the ones I just crushed." True to his observations, the lilies you had just bought were bent out of shape from hitting the floor with you. "Yeah. That would be nice."

Quinn Hughes, you were beginning to realise, was easy to stare at. It was like every part of his face was designed with some gravitational pull that just beckoned you closer and closer until you were entirely enamoured with the way his mouth curled as he talked. You didn't realise the conversation went quiet until it did, too busy staring to clock that he had finished talking. He cleared his throat and you broke out of your trance. "Sorry." You said. "Listen.." Quinn trailed off. You were a little afraid he was going to call you out and tell you that you were making him uncomfortable. "That night. The Christmas party- God, I hope I don't come on too strong here but.. We were good, right? There was some crazy, cosmic connection. Please tell me I didn't make that up." It was like the air had been sucked out of the room and forced into your lungs. You wanted to call all your friends who had told you that 'delusional doesn't get anyone anywhere' and tell them that he had felt it too. The feeling that before you locked eyes the world hadn't moved, hadn't been set in motion until you knew the feeling of his gaze on you and yours on him. You wanted to cry out, 'Yes, you idiot', but instead you settled for a smile and "I felt it, trust me." "I was going to ask for your number, but Cole interrupted and I felt like maybe it was a sign that I wasn't ready for you yet. Like maybe the universe was telling me to wait for you. God I sound like such an idiot. And if I freak you out and you turn me down just know I will still replace those flowers," He was talking slowly, sure of himself, "But I would really like your number now. If you and the Universe want me to. Have your number, that is." You placed a hand over his, hoping that the sign of interest would get him to stop rambling. "Firstly, my lilies better be replaced. And secondly, you could've had my number at the party, universe be damned, but I'm just as happy to give it to you now"

summer

There was nothing that compared to the absolute defeat reflected in Quinn's face as he wrung his hands sitting on the couch. An injury for earlier in the season had flared up again, leaving him scratched from the second round of the playoffs- a round that the Canucks were struggling in without their Captain. It stressed you out to see him so stressed out. And you honestly had no clue what you were supposed to do. Since exchanging numbers, the two of you had done just about everything other than put a label on what you were. It was terrifying and exhilarating and you didn't know if you should turn the television off or not to spare Quinn from what was beginning to turn into a nasty loss. It killed him to not be able to fly out for the away game, to not be able to be there for his team. Having him play through his injury had left him sidelined for weeks, and not allowing that injury to fully heal before he picked up his stick again had bothered him until finally the medical team had to force him to rest. Even now you knew he'd be laced up and on the ice in seconds if he could be. "You alright?" You asked him, "Need any ice or heat or anything?" Your apartment had become his over the past few months. His gear had a permanent spot in your coat closet and his Yankees cap hung up next to your Abbotsford one. And now everything Quinn-care was stored around the place. He grunted in response, eyes still glued to the screen. "Quinn." "Jesus, what?" He snapped. At least he broke his gaze from the TV. Immediately, he softened. "Sorry. I'm alright, thank you. I'm sorry." You moved from your station behind the kitchen counter and sat next to him on the couch. "I know it sucks." You told him. "It's one more week. I want you healed, Quinn. You gotta help me here." "I know, I know." He pressed his lips into a thin smile, grabbing your hand and turning back to the game. He stroked circles onto the back of your hand. Even with the ups and downs of the game, they never lost their rhythm.

You fell asleep listening to the hum of the commentators and the sounds of skates and sticks on the ice. When you woke up, Quinn was texting furiously, the pads of his thumbs beating on his phone in an almost soothing dance. "Everything alright?" He didn't turn. "Yeah, babe." "How was the game?" "They lost. Sorry- give me a second, I'm texting the groupchat." You hummed in response, not bothering to talk. He was lost to the hockey he was replaying in his mind. Over and over on a loop until he felt he had identified what went wrong and how he could fix it. You unfurled yourself from your place amongst the pillows and rose, your bones cracking and groaning in pleasure from getting out of the position. You padded to the windows, closing them. They had been open to release some of the heat in your apartment, but now all you wanted to do was sleep without worrying about pesky insects getting in. When you turned back to the couch Quinn was still typing. "I'm going to bed, you coming?" You asked him. He turned and gave you his big stupid grin that hung lopsidedly on his face. "In a minute. Don't wait up, okay? I know you have work tomorrow." "'kay" You wandered into your bedroom, slipping yourself into your sheets. Over the past few months of seeing each other it had become near impossible for you to sleep without the white noise of Quinn's quiet snores next to you. Roadies were beginning to genuinely impact your functionality at work, with the lack of sleep and following overconsumption of caffeine messing with you. Quinn was the complete opposite of everything you had searched for. Being best friends with Cole, you knew what dating a hockey player was like. And you had been adamant you didn't want anything like it. His schedule made everything about dating difficult- not to mention the added privacy that was required in his situation. On top of it, he was entirely enamoured with hockey. When you caught him zoning out during movies or taking a little too long to reply in conversation, you knew he was just dreaming of it in the same way he had his whole life. It was what made him so undeniably talented on the ice. And as a fan of the sport yourself, you understood. And God help you, you forgave. Because you wanted nothing other than him. The boy had tainted you completely. If you ever had to date again, if the two of you never did label anything and just fizzled out, he would have ruined you for anyone else. There was no one else with his passion and dedication. His ability to take charge and make the best of difficult situations. And no one who made you feel so whole. He was far from what you were looking for, but he was what you needed. A man. One that was still texting his groupchat as you drifted closer to sleep without the heat of his body next to you. But twenty or so minutes later you felt the brush of a kiss at your temple and the familiar dip of the bed as Quinn slipped into his side. And you fully fell asleep to the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his chest against your back.

fall

"You're going to be my wife." Quinn cooed. You turned around from your seat in front of your vanity, narrowing your eyes at him. "Quinn, what?" You were shocked at the statement. Also shocked at the fact that you didn't quite hate the idea. The two of you had become official a month or so back, and the four weeks had felt exactly like the four weeks before it: calm and blissful. He was smirking at you from the bed. You studied his face. You had never been more obsessed with someone's face. You could probably close your eyes and still accurately point to where his beauty mark was, you were so obsessed. There was something so romantic about him. It opened a pit in your stomach and swallowed you whole. You were like a teenage girl with a crush. Quite literally weak in the knees at your big-girl age of 23. "You're going to be my wife." He repeated, rising from where he sat on the edge of your bed. You turned back to your vanity, allowing him to plant both hands on the back of your chair and lock eyes with you in the mirror. "My wife." He said. Third times the charm, you suppose, as the reality of how insane he sounded hit you. "Your wife?" You almost snorted, "Is this a proposal after one month, Hughes? You know you're yet to even meet my parents." "I've met them!" He defended, "Over the phone- that is so not the point." You rolled your eyes at him. "It's also not a proposal. I just know." At your unimpressed look, he said "The universe, baby." "Sure, Hughesy. Are you ready to go?" You and Quinn were heading out to your last dinner of the pre-season. Getting ramped back up had been difficult with off-season trades and signings and finding the chemistry in a practically new team had taken it's toll on Quinn. But the pressure would be tenfold once the season started. The players and fans were ravenous for a cup. Years of hard work were starting to pay off with better records and longer playoff runs, and you knew that when Quinn closed his eyes at night he was dreaming of that pretty piece of metal. One that, you had admitted to him while drawing patterns on his chest, you had always wanted to be able to kiss like all your hockey idols before you. "I'll get it for you" He had said like it was a shiny piece of jewelry. "You better" You had replied, sealing the promise with a kiss. "Yeah, I'm all ready, pretty lady."

winter

"Happy three years" Quinn smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. You laughed at him, "What are you talking about? Put your shoes on." The two of you were on your way to the Canuck's annual Christmas party. This was your first year sharing the responsibility with JT Miller's wife. You still weren't quite ready to fully take on the role. Although the woman insisted you would have been fine on your own and seemed a little eager to officially pass the mantle of party-planner onto you. Quinn was still staring at you. "The uber is here, you goof" You tugged him by his shirt out of the door. "We're going to be late." "Happy three year," He repeated. "What? Our anniversary is in September" "We met three years ago. Happy three years, my love." You stopped in your tracks. "Oh my god, Quinn, I'm so sorry - I didn't even realise." He smiled at you. Three years in and that look still made you melt. His hair was freshly washed, and the wet strands fell across his forehead like they were styled to look perfectly messy. His ever-scruffy facial hair seemed custom made to frame his perfect smile. "If you don't stop looking at me like that, we're going to miss the Uber and the party. That I planned" You put an emphasis on the last part like it would deter him at all. You had left a couple 'you' planned parties because he wouldn't stop looking at you a certain way. Being in love had never been so entirely overwhelming for you before. You could remember when you met him like it was yesterday. The electricity that charged between you two. The feeling that your heart was trying to claw itself out of your body so it could get to his. It was nothing you had felt before and something you had felt every day since. He grabbed your waist with one of his hands. One of the many things Quinn brought up when he raved about fate and the universe was the fact that he claimed you fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. That it was his "God-given spot." The sap. You felt the same, secretly. "Happy three years," He said, still giving you that fucking smile. You tilted your head to look up at him. Lifting to your toes so you could reach him comfortably, you pressed your lips against his. He parted his lips quickly, a hand making it's way to your chin to angle you into the perfect position. The kiss got passionate fast, and your hands explored his chest, smoothing over his pecs. One wandered over his shoulder, pulling him into you, while the other grabbed a fistful of the flannel he had thrown on over his long-sleeve.

The buzzing of your phone interrupted you. He tried to chase your lips with his as you pulled away, but you gave him a playfully stern look and he gave up. "The uber is literally texting me, Quinn, we have to go." "I have the flu." "You do not." "I'm very truthfully ill. I don't think I should risk giving it to my teammates and their girlfriends. I think we should stay home." You quirked an eyebrow, "We? I can go without you." "If I'm sick, so are you." "You are not sick, Quinn." "Oh I am. Outrageously so. The Scarlett Fever, I think." "Quinn," You laughed. "The Bubonic Plague." "Come on." "Marry me." "We're- What?" Quinn hadn't faltered at all. "Let's miss the Uber. Marry me." "Quinn, what? Are you still joking?" His face paled a little at the question, "Why? Do you not want to?" You swatted his shoulder, "Obviously I want to. This is so not a funny joke." He looked into the hallway past you, like he was scanning for an aggravated Uber driver coming in to drag his customers into his car. "Wait here." You opened your mouth to protest that you really truly were going to be late now, but he was already thundering back towards your apartment. He rushed in, the door not even having enough time to click behind him before he raced back out. In his hand was a black velvet box. "I was waiting for a good opportunity. I thought maybe when I got you that Stanley Cup. Or at the lake, but I couldn't wait that long." "Quinn" You breathed out. "I love you. So much. And I know I've said a million times that I'm going to marry you, but this time I'm asking for real. Marry me? We can have a big wedding with everyone from the team and a crazy venue and my mom can fuss over your bridesmaids so you don't have to and Cole can even be your Man of Honour. Or we can have a tiny, courthouse wedding with just you and me- and maybe Jack and Luke. I don't care. Just marry me?" You had expected, your whole life, that the world would spin on its axel the day you got engaged. You had thought profusely about this exact moment, and how everything would change, and wondered if your husband-to-be would pick the perfect ring. But you didn't even care if Quinn ever opened the box. If it was the ugliest thing you'd ever seen in your life. And it didn't feel like the air had left your lungs, and it didn't feel like everything was changing. It felt like everything was slotting in where it was supposed to be - and this was your place. Maybe not in your dingy apartment that you loved too much to move out of for your boyfriend Quinn (a problem that would not arise for your fiancee Quinn, you realised as you began to dream of a gorgeous house and a few little Hughes running around that most certainly would not fit in your one-bedroom one-bathroom) but your place with him, however you could have him. You couldn't even get the words out, opting instead for a tearful nod. Quinn surged to you, wrapping his arms around you. Overcome with emotions, you practically collapsed. Quinn helped you lower yourself to the floor. You grabbed for him, taking a fistful of his shirt and using it to pull his lips to yours. "I love you," You murmured against them, "And we are totally missing this party." He laughed in response, pulling away and pressing his forehead to yours. "Absolutely. Now get this ring on and let's get off this gross floor, yeah?" Your face hurt from smiling, but your grin somehow got even wider. "Yeah."

[saturngas]

him getting hard at you yelling at him

[🪐] the kyoto exchange event is soon and your husband has been meeting up a lot with a coworker. you get a bit jealous, not aware that your husband may have a thing with that

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: a bit angsty at the beginning, suggestive, not really smut

warnings: established relationship; jealousy; possessiveness; boners; a bit of toxicity; idk if this is super canon but some scenarios are from the jjk game phantom parade;

word count: 2.9k

..

this is stupid right? you know your husband has a natural charm that is often misinterpreted as annoying and obnoxious. not everyone is prepared to receive all that satoru gojo has to offer, only a few people have dared to try to keep up with him, including yourself.

and you knew his coworkers weren't really... fond of him.

so why were you all of the sudden so bothered by him going out so much with his female coworker utahime?

the sister school exchange event was happening soon, in two weeks to be more precise. you were a former sorcerer yourself, though you weren't really involved in the education regarding the sorcery school; so this event was more of satoru's business, you were only required to be present during the group combat.

"sweet cheeks, im going out with nanami! just to discuss things about the exchange event." he had said one day. you wished him good luck with no negative thought in mind.

"baby, Nanami wasn't of much help, so now I have to go talk with utahime." he pouted. and you paid no mind. it was known to almost every breathing being that utahime wasn't confortable around satoru, even as going to telling him to leave her alone. that has being their relationship since satoru was in high school, him often disrespecting her authority and status as a sorcerer, and her just chastising him as his former senior.

so why were you so troubled if you knew this about them? well probably them going out three times this week stirred a nerve.

it's because the exchange event. you kept telling yourself, but you couldn't avoid the venomous feeling of jealousy. which was an actual insult to your relationship with satoru, who had never given you reasons to doubt him, on the contrary, he often showers you with infinite love and words of affirmation that only fulfill your love for him.

but hasn't utahime grow tired of him already? you questioned deeply. she was his number one despiser. being with satoru for only ten minutes aged her ten years. you were incredulous she was lasted so much around your husband. even if it was work-related.

it was a Friday. your husband visited his female coworker twice this week, this day being the third encounter. he hadn't told you where, though you were sure he would have told you if you were to ask him. but you didn't. it was your untouched pride that had stopped you from that. not wanting to make your jealousy public. you were certain of the endless teasing satoru would treat you with.

you were alone in your shared house. it was actually your day off. day you had planned to spend it with your silly spouse, before his phone buzzed and he announced his meeting with utahime. it would be a lie to say you weren't upset.

"take care, toru. and please come back soon." your farewell felt bittersweet, bitter to you, sweet to satoru. his obliviousness about the hurricane going inside your core was only contributing to your indignation.

as you turned on the tv in front of you, you tried brushing off the corrosive sensations that came within the recap of the events occurred this week. the remote seemed to have a mind of its own as you picked some random show absentmindedly, just something to cloud your head.

utahime was actually a nice and proper woman. she has always being respectful to you and only occasionally made discrete comments about your relationship with satoru, questioning amusingly how you put up with him. she was obviously no harm, even less to your husband.

perhaps it was your primal instincts that were responsible of your disapproval of them going out so much. you weren't exactly the jealous type. okay, maybe you were fussing too much over this situation.

the tv show actually completed its purpose and distracted you effectively. your mind now wondering how the main character was going to open up his own jazz club.

the door opening startled you slightly, turning your head immediately to see the person you had been missing the whole evening. satoru kicked off his shoes at the entrance as he stepped closer to you, a hand running through his snowy hair and taking off his rectangular glasses.

"oh baby, you should have seen utahime! she is so bad at playing baseball even though she's a fan of it!"

what a fucking dumbass. your eyes full of love threatened to turn wicked at such comment. so he went to play baseball with her?! it wasn't work-related?!

"what do you mean, satoru?" your tone wasn't the kindest. "I thought you went out to talk over the final details about the exchange event."

"oh, that," satoru was now aware of your little irritation, your evident pitch of voice made sure of that. "yeah it is very important for the event, baby!"

"how so?" exasperation was written all over your face, making story wince a bit. you lifted yourself up from the couch to face him.

"do you really want me to tell you? I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise for the studen—"

"what could possibly be a surprise, satoru?!" you snapped. the first two thirds of his sentence infuriated you so much you didn't even listen to his last words. "you going out three times with utahime this week was definitely a suprise for me."

his baby blue eyes were as wide as plates. he didn't expect you to yell at him over this. and for some reason, he felt himself warmer.

"and, and now—" red was coating your face, endless frustration ready to be busted in forms of hurtful words and angry glances. "and now you're telling me you were playing baseball with her?! and expect me to be all okay with that? what kind of work-related stuff requires two coworkers to go out and play baseball alone?"

satoru was in a state of awe at first, his face displaying the shock your exposed irritation caused him. but his bad habit of fixing situations with comedy and witty remarks had entered the scene. it would have normally calmed you down, if it wasn't for the pent up frustration that was on the picture.

"oh~ so you were jelly~?" he sent you a wink, his lanky body getting closer to yours by instinct. "don't worry baby. I have eyes only for yo—" wrong move.

"how could you joke about this, satoru?!" your loud words stirred something inside him, something that should not be stirred nor awaken during these moments. "im here trying to tell you how I feel and you just— you just joke arou—" your words were fading away in his hearing. your red face and glassy eyes only on his mind. oh how pretty you looked when you were angry, especially when you were yelling at him. a wicked part of satoru was glad your undivided attention was on him, even if it was you snapping at him. your overly licked lips were moving furiously as you cried out your thoughts.

"and now you are spacing out!" you snapped your fingers in front of him. satoru's mind went back to the scenario occurring in the living room.

"baby, you have literally nothing to worry abo—"

"stop talking and let me finish."

oh no. he loved you and hated you for that. satoru fell in love hard for your personality, admiring how you never left anyone cut your words. you always stood for yourself, shouting your thoughts in a confident voice. and in a world still ruled by men such as the sorcery world, that was very hard to achieve. but oh how he hated that exact same admiration for your courage became warm enthusiasm—lust—in a couple of seconds. your sharp tone kindled his core, feeling his pants a bit tighter in the front.

not now please... he cursed in the back of his head. you were already cooking him, a visible boner would be the death for him. a reasonable motive to make him sleep in the couch and put him in a sex—or even touch, if you were feeling sinister—ban.

"i don't like it when you joke when I tell you about my feelings," there it was again, that stern voice he loved so much, though he cursed it at the moment. "I also don't like it when you go out too much with utahime."

if you only knew you were making him hard as hell from yelling at him you wouldn't even have to worry about his female friends.

"is that understood, satoru?" you lifted one single finger to emphasize your point even more. that little habit of yours, along with placing a hand on your hip and slightly wobbling your head, was going to be his final straw.

"yeah, of course baby." he breathed, sending you an apologetic look. "can we go to bed, already? I need cuddles."

you shot him an unamused glare. uh maybe you weren't done. satoru could feel his hot skin sticking to his clothes thanks to his sweat. you held so much power over the strongest.

"why were you playing baseball with her?"

"baby it wasn't anything of the sort!" he said agitated. "you know that after the group combat usually comes the individual combats, and I just know yuji will be in danger," you nodded at his words. that was true. satoru had told you a few days before he suspected of someone plotting against the young sorcerer. "so I wanted to change the routine and make it about something fun, you know? something harmless, like some sport the kids will enjoy."

your heart actually softened at his explanation. satoru's priorities embraced the security of the youth, especially that of the newest first-year student, which was often at jeopardy.

however, that explained nothing.

"what does that have to do with you going out with—"

satoru cut your words, and flinched slightly at the way your eyes narrowed and your brow curled up. "I couldn't come up with something myself, so I asked nanami and utahime to go out to play a sport they liked. of course I couldn't tell them what I was plotting," his hands motioned to himself. "nanami took me to bowling, I liked it, but then I thought it wouldn't be a good idea especially for yuji and maki, you know how they are." you nodded. "and then utahime took me to a baseball simulator, and it was all perfect!" he said enthusiastically, lifting his long arms in victory. he was feeling so hot his forehead was shining with sweat. it was becoming harder and harder to contain his boner. the last thing he wanted was to nut mid-explanation.

you widened your eyes in both wonder and confusion.

"no! i mean—," he panicked "it was all perfect because the game was perfect for the kids. not that it was perfect to go out with her!" your husband tried to save himself.

an unannounced sighed left your lips. you were still glaring at him, and even though satoru was a foot taller than you, you were making him a bit too much nervous.

—that and the fact that his stiff boner was still present, only softening lightly when he panicked at your misunderstanding. his little friend was eager for you to yell at him as well.

"am i forgiven now?" he battled his long white lashes to you, giving you the babiest of looks, deeply hoping you would end this silly discussion and take care of him.

"mmm..." a finger rubbed your chin as you pondered about it. "I don't know, satoru," he deflated in front of you. "why didn't you ask me for help? you know I like sports too."

"of course I thought about you, pookie! you were the first person I considered" a pout adorned his pretty face as his long arms attempted to hug you, only for you to step back. "please don't do that, im gonna start crying."

"answer the question satoru."

"it's just that you were so busy with work I genuinely didn't want to disturb you more."

it was true. even though you were not a teacher at the school, the exchange event also demanded you of your time, your main concerns being completing and getting the arrangements ready, especially with the higher ups—the part satoru disliked the most—, and making the them believe sukuna's vessel was still dead.

"but it could have been just a simple question, satoru." there you were again with that rigid tone of yours. haven't you noticed satoru is all red faced and his cock is starting to ache? of course not, because you hate him, right?

"I know baby~" a whine left his mouth, eyes pleading you two could just cuddle and maybe, just maybe, you could stroke him a bit. "but you were very, very, very stressed, I really didn't want to put another burden on you. you would often come very tense after a meeting with the higher ups."

you huffed. well, you guessed you could give that to satoru. but it still hurt he didn't even ask you the simple question, or even explaining to you his little plan. he was certain you wouldn't object.

"okay, satoru," the tall man's ears spiked at your words. ready to say yes to your proposal to cuddling. "I still need some time to cool down. so I'll go to bed." your feet dragged you to the hallway after you turned off the tv, satoru following you behind. "no," you lifted your palm toward him, stopping him. "you sleep in the couch."

"but whyyy?"

"because you didn't tell me sooner about all this! and because im still mad at you."

satoru let out a dramatic puff, blowing raspberries. he grabbed quickly his things and prepared himself for a lonely night. the disappointment from not sleeping next to you dissipated his boner.

the next day you actually didn't see each other until night. satoru had to attend a clan meeting while you met with the directors of both sorcery schools to go over all the remaining affairs.

exhaustion drew all over your face as you entered your house, a recently cooked meal aroma invading your nostrils. your feet pulled you toward the exquisite scent with little resistance. the view of your tall husband hovering over the stove welcomed you.

"hey pookie boo," satoru said excitedly as he stirred whatever he was making. tapping the utensil away before invading your personal space. "how was your meeting with the directors? they weren't rude to you, were they?" he smiled as he enveloped you in a affective hug. you hadn't forgotten about his little game from last night, but you would be lying to yourself if you admit you hadn't missed his warmth.

"it was fine, very tiring," you looked at him with tired eyes, making his heart do several jumps at your cuteness. "they made me go over all the details about the curses they will release, discussing if they were the appropriate levels for the students."

"oh poor you~" he sang. "let me feed you fully and then we can go to bed and have a well deserved sleep," he was trying to get away.

"hey!" you yelped. satoru felt his dick stir and enlarge. "don't think I haven't forgotten about last night," a stern pitch adorned your voice.

"baby, please," he whined, "if you knew what you do to me, you wouldn't be like this," he hinted silently to the ache between his legs. "what do you want me to do to—"

"satoru," a shiver danced along his spine at the sound of his name rolling from your lips. "I want you to only look at me," you don't know what roamed through your being, but a sudden urge of claiming him took over you. your bottled up feelings from last night revealing themselves. perhaps the heat of the moment didn't let you communicate your darkest desires.

your smaller frame was still held captive by his heavy arms. you lifted your arms to surround his neck, bringing him closer to you, chest to chest. satoru left you handle him as you pleased. he caressed your waist as you stared up at him, darkness painting itself over your irises, your gloomy gaze contributing to the tightening feeling of his pants, his present hard-on sharpening his breathing.

"i want your to only look at me," a twitch inside his pants.

"i want you to give me your full attention," a throb.

"i want you to only think of me," a pulse.

"you are mine, satoru, and as far as I know, im yours. so don't you ever forget that." the white haired sorcerer could bet his underwear was damp from his leaking. why were you like this?

you nuzzled your nose against his, before giving his lips a chaste kiss. "baby you are so hot when you are toxic like that." you chuckled lightly at his words, brushing your fingers along the short hairs of his undercut. you swear you could hear him purr.

"toru don't romanticize this side of me or I'll be more toxic than the elephant's foot." satoru gave your butt a little squeeze before bringing one hand up to play with your cheek, squeezing it as well, before leaving a soft peck on it. his lips then moved to yours, sharing a long and passionate kiss with you. oh how much he missed your touch.

"baby would you get mad at me if I tell you I was hard as a rock when you were yelling at me last night? no one has that power over me."

"what"

[meglosthegreat]

I see a lot of posts on here talking about the Solas/Elgar'nan segment in Blood of Arlathan and how it's one of the best scenes in the game, and they'd be right, but I don't see enough people talking about how comically the whole thing is undercut by quite possibly the most poorly-conceived, terribly-implemented looney-tunes-ass sequence in gaming history that surrounds it.

Like you show up with your friends to this Venatori party, and you're like great, we're sneaking in! Time for disguises. How convenient that these Venatori guys all wear hoods, right? Should be a piece of cake if we're all, you know, wearing hoods that would helpfully hide our identities. But no. We all go waltzing in with our whole-ass faces exposed, you know, the group of guys that have been murdering Venatori left and right and who Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain have definitely all seen in person before. Oh, and don't worry about walking into this notoriously racist elf-sacrificing cult if you happen to be an elf! You're only here in disguise so that you can rescue a GROUP OF ELVES THEY'RE GOING TO SACRIFICE but it's ok because you're dressed as a mercenary and not a dalish so it's all good don't worry about it :) :)

Then you get into this fucking party and oh my fucking god it's like they decided to take all of the most comically over-the-top stereotypes of villainy and put them on display. Because why not! The Venatori are all sickos anyway so of course they'd be out here doing sicko things! There's some guys pulling a halla apart with blood magic! There's other guys using slaves as benches! They're all laughing and joking about how EVIL they are, hahaha, how cool is that? The fucking guy from D'Meta's Crossing is here if you don't let him die, because he's a fucked up evil sicko too! You're supposed to be shocked at this hideous display; recoil in horror, even!

And who do you bring with you to help get through this crowd of absolute lunatics? NEVE FUCKING GALLUS. You know, the person so well-known in Minrathous that a Dalish elf living in Arlathan KNEW HER BY REPUTATION. Yup, Neve Gallus with her INTENSELY RECOGNIZABLE PROSTHETIC just waltzes up to some guy and he just lets her in. Because being EVIL also makes you incapable of coherent thought, apparently.

And then. AND THEN. You walk across the bridge where Elgar'nan makes his thought-sounds at you, and YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING PARTY is already there, just hanging out nbd. Also not wearing hoods or any kind of disguises that couldn't instantly be seen through by a five-year-old with amnesia but ok, cool. Why did we bother walking through all those sickos then when we could've just taken the secret back entrance like the rest of them, idk.

But just when you think you've reached peak stupidity, it keeps going. You're now standing there, at the front of a crowd of about twelve people, approximately five feet away from Elgar'nan himself, inexplicably blending in, when the big guy puts the mind control whammy on everyone. Oh no, you think. We've been found out! Here's the part in the plan where things begin to go wrong! NO. Your mage friends SECRETLY PERFORM MAGICAL GESTURES to block the mind control, and then you LITERALLY FUCKING SIDLE OFF STAGE LEFT without ANYONE NOTICING. I should reiterate that at this point, you are still about FIVE FEET AWAY FROM ELGAR'NAN and his fucking ARCHDEMON.

And to conclude this absolute comedy of idiocy, as soon as you enter back into combat mode, you immediately ditch all of your disguises. And of course then, ONLY THEN, Elgar'nan notices you've been there. Cut to the end of the actual good sequence, this dramatic conversation performed by excellent voice actors and written miles better than most other things in this game, and you reach your final prize: about six guys trapped in a little cube. Cool, you tell yourself. This was definitely worth it. You take your fade-to-black teleporter back to the Lighthouse and they're never heard from again.

This was the quest that broke me. This was the moment that all hope for Veilguard finally snapped. I consider myself to be a very resilient person in the face of camp and goofy writing, but this was too much disbelief for my brain to suspend. The mental gymnastics necessary to make this whole sequence make any kind of sense were simply beyond me. Even Solas's dulcet tones could not salvage it for me after that.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝑴𝒆*

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (Short One Shot)

Warnings: Corruption, Virgin!Jeongin, Oral(Both), Multiple: Rounds, Orgasms, Creampies, Unprotected sex, Slight degrading, public, hair pulling, I think that’s all? Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

A/N: This is my first time attempt at a corruption kink so I hope I did it justice! This came out way longer than I anticipated and I wrote it over two days so I’m sorry if it’s kinda weird? Idk man lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Find Request Here

-🖤

Jeongin was known as the shy guy in class. You had never seen him talking to anymore, he always just kept his head in his books. You always wondered to yourself if he lived a double life or something because he was way too handsome to be this anti social kinda guy. As class went on you had to pick partners for a project so you made the choice to ask him to your partner.

When you walked up to him his eyes blinked at you in almost confusion. “Jeongin wanna be my partner?” You asked with a smile.

His eyes blinked quickly then down at his desk to avoid your gaze “I- uhm- s-sure” he managed to stutter out.

“Awesome! Here’s my number! Let’s meet up and talk about the project later yeah?” You smiled writing down your number on his paper. You flashed him that sweet smile one last time before walking back to your seat.

Jeongin breathed out like he was holding his breath. His face beat red not knowing what just happened. You were one of the most beautiful people to him. You were smart, kind and just stunning. He thought the world was just playing some jokes on him to have you come over to him. As he stared down at your number he felt a lump in his throat swallowing hard, he got his phone out putting your number in.

Jeongin: Are you positive you wanna be my partner?

He texted feeling regret after sending it. You smiled to yourself seeing it pop up.

You: Duh, you wanna meet at the library later? How’s 5 sound?

Jeongin: Sounds good.

Jeongin was screaming inside, he was so nervous. He’s never really talked to many girls only ever having one relationship ever when he was a teenager. He’s only ever had one singular peck on the lips so having you want to be his partner kinda made him feel proud almost.

When 5 came you were sitting in the corner of the library, the collage had comfy sides so you could relax and work. You sat on a beanbag chair almost curled up just waiting for him to come. When you saw him walk in you smiled waving him over to where you were sitting. His eyes didn’t meet your gaze looking everywhere else but you.

“Hey! You ready to start” you asked.

“Y-yeah uhm so what uhm did you want to do it on?” He asked back.

“Well from the topics why don’t we do it on gaming soundtracks?” You said looking at your paper.

The class you both were in was music production. Funny enough you both were in a lot of the same classes because you both were looking for a future in some sort of music field.

His head perked up at the thought of it. “Wait you wanna do video game stuff?” He asked almost dumbfounded.

“Yeah! I think it would be fun, I actually enjoy gaming a lot” you said with that oh so sweet smile.

He felt his heart do flips, he started asking about your favorite games, what console you used etc. You’ve never seen him so excited or talk so much for that matter. You happily answered all his questions each one making his heart just melt even more. I guess he can add gamer to the list of things he found attractive about you.

As you both started to talk about the project you moved closer to him. Your leg brushing against his. He felt a jolt go up his back his body stiffening. You were so close to him he could smell your perfume. “Hey, the library is gonna be closing soon you wanna come back to my apartment and keep working? I can order us some food.” You said before getting an excited “I can show you my gaming set up!” You said with a bright smile. He nodded feeling a bit excited as well to see your set up.

You got back to your place throwing your stuff down at the coffee table. “Make yourself at home” you said. Your apartment was small but it was cozy, it was a little messy with papers cluttering places. “Sorry for the mess” you said feeling a bit embarrassed. “Oh oh!” You said taking jeongin hand “let me show you my set up!” You said dragging him down the hall to your bedroom. His eyes widened as he walked in feeling like he shouldn’t be in here.

His attention was on your set up now though “No way! It looks awesome!” He said with a wide smile. He started geeking out over your equipment and how nice your color scheme was. You both almost completely forgot about doing the project sitting at your desk and just talking about gaming.

“You wanna test it?” You asked moving from the chair.

“Definitely” he said with a smile.

You pulled up all your games letting him pick whatever. When he started to struggle a bit with the controls you moved him a bit sitting on his lap. “Here let me change them for you so it easier” you said. His mind was blank. Every thought he might have had gone. Here you were sitting on his lap like it was nothing. He felt a breath get caught in his throat his hands not knowing where to sit.

You really didn’t do it for any other reason to help him until you felt his cock starting to poke at you. You smirked to yourself ‘this would be fun’. You moved your ass back against him a bit testing his reaction. He bit his lip feeling a groan dare to escape. This sweet innocent man didn’t know what to do. He had his eyes shut tightly hands gripping at the arm rest. Oh was it so hot to know how you were driving him crazy without even doing anything. In that moment you knew you wanted to corrupt him. To make him only be able to think of you. To only have one thought behind those beautiful eyes, you.

“Jeongin’ie are you alright?” You asked in a sickeningly sweet tone.

“Mhm” he said not being able to get anything else out.

You bit your lip moving your ass more against his now fully hard cock. You could feel his body twitching under you. He didn’t want you to move away but he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from cumming in his pants either. You turned your head only to be graced with the sight of him. His face was red, eyes glazed over his lip a bit swollen from him biting on it. “I can help you with that you know” you said with a grin.

His eyes just blinked at you not knowing how to reply. “Want me to make you feel good Innie?” You asked. He only nodded a little making you tilt your head. “Tell me, use your words” you said.

“I- please m-make me feel g-good” he stuttered out.

“Such a good boy” you said before moving off of him. You knelt down between his thighs pulling down his pants and boxers slightly enough to let his cock spring out. His fists were gripping the chair hard, eyes closed tightly shut.

You took his cock in your hand making him let out a soft moan at the contact. You smiled before licking up his cock rewarding you with another sweet moan. “Look at me innie” you said. His eyes slowly opening, the sight he had made his cock twitch in your grasp. While he still had his eyes on you, you quickly took him in your mouth. Slowly moving yourself over him eyes glued to his. He let out such a desperate moan as he watched you. You bobbed your head trying to keep a slower pace, your tongue swirling around his length.

“Ah- y-y/n” he moaned. His hands came up to grip your head however they just hovered over it. Scared to do something that would make you stop.

“Innie do what you feel comfortable doing” you said before reaching yourself to him.

His hands found their way to your head softly holding onto it like he’d brake you or something. He bucked his hips up into your mouth eyes fluttering at the feeling. “C-can’t I’m-“ he whined bucking his hips one more time before cumming hard back your throat. A long guttural moan left his lips as his body shook. You pulled away licking your lips eyes still glued to him.

“Didn’t think a sweet guy like you would fuck my face so well” you said with a smirk.

He was panting trying to catch his breath, when he looked down at you again his cock twitched. Your lips were swollen, eyes a bit teary and glassed over. When you stood up he watched you intently “wait- what uhm what about you?” He asked softly.

“What about me?” You said.

“I- uhm- do you want me to- h-help you?” He stuttered out.

“You wanna help me hm?” You smirked.

He nodded his eyes looking like a puppy trying to beg. “Alright come here” you said bringing him to your bed. You laid down pulling your pants down with your panties. Jeongins mouth dropped at the sight of you. He’s only ever seen a naked women through online videos it was even more jaw dropping that it was you who he was looking at. You gave him a small lesson on where to touch a girl and where it’ll make her feel good. He nodded taking in all your words like it was a class.

When he kneeled down between your legs looking up at you he felt his legs shake. He slowly leaned into you licking slowly up your folds as a test. Your words swirled in his head of what to do and as the good student he was he listened. He took your clit in his mouth sucking softly when he heard you moan he groaned back. You could see he was moving his hips against the bed trying to create some friction for himself. “Gonna be a good boy and make me cum innie?” You said with a sweet honey voice.

There it was that word again ‘good boy’ it was making his head all foggy. He wanted to be your good boy wanted to make you feel as good as you made him feel. He brought his long pretty hand up to your cunt slowly pushing a finger into you. The warmth that engulfed him made his cock somehow even harder. The taste of you was driving him even crazier. He lapped at your cunt like some dog pushing his fingers in and out of you. “Just like that, you’re doing so well- ah-“ you moaned out.

His eyes rolled back it was like some light bulb went off in his head he started to move his fingers faster curling them inside you. His lips sucked and nibbled at your nub. He wasn’t ready for what was about to happen though, your legs clamping around his head as loud moans left your mouth. “Shit- innie- I’m- fuck- cumming!” You moaned grabbing onto his hair moving your hips against his mouth as you chased your high.

You moaned out tasting every thing you gave him, he licked you clean. He moaned out loudly only to be muffled by your thighs. He bucked his hips again cumming in his pants. He looked up at you with those same almost puppy eyes, you smiled at him “you did good innie, such a good boy” you said pulling him up to you. You kissed his forehead softly holding him tightly to you.

—

The next couple days were a bit busy for the both of you only seeing one another in class while exams were going on. You two sat back in the back in class going over your project. Your hand resting on his thigh. A grin grew across your face feeling his cock already getting hard. You looked around knowing no one was even paying attention. Your hand brushed over his cock making him jump. You leaned into him a little before whispering into his ear “you’ve been working so hard, let me make you feel good hmm? Just gotta be a good boy and stay quiet, can you do that for me?” You asked.

He nodded, your hand dipped into his sweats slowly stroking him. He gripped onto the desk hard knuckles turning white. You kept your eyes on the paper asking him questions about it. He tried his best to answer it all coming out as a mumbled mess. Your fingers pressed against his tip hand speeding up. You could feel his cock twitch in your hand knowing he was already so close. “Tell me when you’re close hm?” You said softly. He nodded once more biting his lip harder.

Your hand gripped around him moving up and down faster than slower paying extra attention to his leaking tip. “Y/n-“ he said softly hand coming down to your wrist. You looked around once more before leaning your head down. His eyes went wide when he felt your mouth around his cock. Hand came to the back of your head pushing you the whole way down his length. His cum shot back your throat, you could feel his legs shaking from his orgasm.

When you finally pulled away licking your lips you smiled at his dazed over eyes. “Such a good boy, you did so so well” you said. He smiled at your words leaning into you more. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up against you like last time.

Another day went by when you got a surprising text from him.

Him: Y/n are you busy?

You: No why what’s up?

Him: I uhm can you help me?

You: were you at?

Him: In the bathroom by room 235

You didn’t text back already on your way down to him. You smirked to yourself that he was reaching out for help. When you opened the door to the bathroom you softly said his name. He peaked out from one of the stalls his eyes looking at you like some sad animal. You quickly made your way to him you could already see how hard he was. “What’s wrong innie” you asked.

“I- I couldn’t stop thinking about the other day- please I-“ he whimpered out.

“What do you want me to do for you?” You asked.

He fiddled with his shirt not looking at you “come on baby, be a good boy and use your words” you said.

“Please I can’t cum with out you-“ he choked out. “Help me- I-“

You would have made him beg more but he looked utterly pathetic already. “Ok baby I got you, let me take care of you yeah?” You said getting down on your knees. You unzipped his pants pulling them down with his boxers. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. You wasted no time wrapping your mouth around him. You swirled your tongue around his cock looking up at how wrecked he already was. You pulled away pumping him with your hand “my sweet boy has become so dirty hasn’t he?”

He shook his head “I’m- I’m not-“ you whinnied out.

“No? So you didn’t text me to come suck you off in the bathroom?”

“I- m’sorry” he whinnied more.

“Such a dirty little boy hmm? Can’t get off by yourself anymore need to- to fuck my mouth just to get off?”

He whimpered “y-yes” he said truthfully.

“Then use my mouth to get yourself off” you said wrapping your mouth back around him but not moving.

He looked down at you eyes filled with tears he grabbed at your head pushing his cock back your throat. “Y/n” he whimpered out I’m already so close” he said head falling back. He pushed in your mouth a few more times his grip holding you in place. He was fucking your mouth like a flesh light. “C-cumming!” He moaned out a familiar warm liquid shooting back your throat. When he pulled out his eyes were glued to you. “Y/n I- wanna make you feel good again please- I need to- to- t-taste you again” he begged.

“Innie wants to eat me out hmm? How bad baby tell me how much you want too” you said.

“So bad, so fucking bad please- please I’ll make you cum like a good boy” he whinnied.

“Mm such a dirty mouth you’ve gotten, let’s put it to use yeah?”

He smiled he pulled your pants and panties down hosting you up against the stall. You were taken back by his surprising strength he had. He wasted no time diving straight into you. He lapped at your folds his tongue darting into your wet cunt, His nose rubbing against your clit. You grabbed onto his hair for some stability only making him moan into your cunt. “You like when I use your face hm? I bet you like it when I pull your hair too- such a dirty boy. You’ve become such a little whore” you said dripping at his hair harder.

His mind went blank his cock twitching already so hard again. He ate you out like a starved man. Nipping at your clit before somehow letting one of his arms go. He pushed his fingers deep into you curling them perfectly. “J-just wanna make you feel good” he said. “Wanna be- be your good boy” he continued. He sucked harsher at your clit your walls tightening around his fingers.

“Shit- innie-“ you moaned out “don’t stop- fuck I’m gonna cum!” You said. He listened, he didn’t stop he in fact took a mental note of what he was doing. When you finally came you came hard against his lips body shaking against the stall wall. To your surprise he came with you, untouched for his second orgasm. He let you down stumbling back a bit. His legs felt weak his body shaking. You wrapped your arms around him kissing his cheek softly “you did so well you know that? You’re such a good boy innie” You said. Making him relax a bit. He cuddled up to you holding tightly like you would run if he didn’t.

—

Today was the day to present your project, both of you were super nervous. However it went over really well. The teacher was really impressed even more so as he listened to jeongin talk. He was happy to see him out of his shell more than ever.

When you both got the grade back smiling wide at the big A+ you got, you hugged him tightly. He was taken back a bit, you were hugging him so openly he was just surprised you didn’t care that people saw. “Innie how about we celebrate today! I’ll order something and we can celebrate at my place yeah?” You said excitedly. Of course he nodded feeling excited too. He was just happy to see you so happy.

—

When jeongin knocked on your door he was greeted with you in an oversized shirt with nothing else on. His jaw dropped at the sight of you. You hugged him again pulling him into the apartment. “I’m so proud of you!” You said. “You talked so well in-front of everyone!”

“It was- easier.. you know having you up there with me” he said shyly.

Your heart melted at his words “yeah? Well innie I got a special surprise for you!” You said pulling him into your room. There was a box sitting on the bed with his name on it. “Just a little something to tell you I’m proud of you, it was actually gonna be a birthday present but- I think you deserve it now.” You said excitedly. When he unwrapped it he almost cried, it was a new headset he showed you before. There was also another small box in it. When he pulled it out he felt his chest tighten. It was a small necklace with the first letter of your name on it.

When he looked up at you he could see a small blush peppering your face. He felt all shy again like the women of his dream didn’t just basically ask him to be hers. He smiled putting it on right away before coming to hug you. In the moment he didn’t even realize before he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed you lovingly his heart pounding in his chest.

The kiss caught you by surprise but you couldn’t help but feel yourself melting at his touch. You moved yourself walking backwards to find the bed. You kissed him one last time before pushing him to the bed. It didn’t take long for you to be onto of him again lips pressed against one another. The kiss was more hungry this time more desperate. You grinned your hips into his already hardened cock making you both moan into the kiss. You quickly pulled away ridding yourself of your shirt. His eyes went big never seeing you fully naked before. His hands quickly grabbed ahold of your chest. He rolled his hips to meet your movements making you both moan in unison.

“Innie take your pants off for me?” You asked. He quickly did so pulling them down fast. You rolled your hips against him once more his cock pressing against your cunt. You yourself couldn’t take it anymore you needed to feel him inside you. You moved your body back holding onto the shaft of his cock before slowly sinking yourself down. It almost looked like his soul was pulled from him his breathing almost stopping. The warmth of your walls was too much for him.

“You ok if I move baby?” You asked softly.

“Y-yes” he mustered up.

You moved your hips sinking down fully into him. His hands gripped at your thighs digging in harshly. Your walls were clenching so tightly around him, the sight before him was not helping his situation. He watched as your perfect breast bounced with every movement. Your face contorting in pleasure and the sweet moans that left your lips. Oh man was he a goner. “Y/n! Stop I’m gonna cum!” You almost screamed out. But you didn’t care you kept moving, faster even.

You felt his cock twitch inside you cumming deep into you. His hot cum coating every part of your insides. You didn’t even notice your own orgasm creeping up on you until you were cumming from the sensation.

There was a moment of you both breathing until you felt yourself being hoisted up and pushed back down on the bed. “I- fuck- y/n I’m sorry- please I-“ he whimpered out. His cock already rock hard again. He pushed into you once more this time moving fast. He felt the warm cum around him letting him slide in and out with ease. “T’good- can’t- can’t stop- m’sorry” he groaned. He was fucking you as if he’d done it a million times. His pace perfect hitting all your sweet spot.

“Ah- innie- you’re such a dirty boy- ah- ah- fucking me again without even asking” you teased.

“M’sorry-“ he whimpered.

“I feel that good hm?” You said.

“Fuck- yes- feel good- s’good- can- can I cum inside again? Please please I’ll be good and make you cum again too” he begged.

“Be a good boy and make me cum first” you said.

He was on a mission after that his hand coming down to play with your clit. It really backfired on him though as your cunt clenched around him so tightly. “Fuck- fuck” he moaned out before he realized he was cumming again.

“M’sorry- m’so sorry” he cried out his head coming to rest in the crook of your neck. Even after cumming twice he was still so damn hard. He rocked his hips into you so overstimulated but he needed to make you cum.

He gripped at your thighs pushing them up, he fucked into you harder pushing his cock to the hilt. “Jeongin! Your- fuck your so deep!” You moaned out.

“Your- your not mad at me for cuming again?” He asked.

“It’s ok baby, fuck- you’re still my good boy” you said softly against his ear.

He moved back looking down at you “n-no not a good boy till- till I make you cum-“ his hand came down to play with your clit once more fucking into you like he almost hated you. His movements were sloppy but rough. You felt your high at its braking point watching as he fucked into you until the necklace caught your eye. Fuck- seeing the necklace knowing he was fully yours pushed you over the edge. You came hard around his cock pulling him down to kiss you as you swallowed each others moans. He came for a third time his body shaking like crazy against yours.

As you both calmed down a bit you kissed him softly “did such a good job- always be my good boy” you said softly.

“Your good boy” he said just as softly.

“Yes, you’re my. Good boy.” You said with a smile “if that’s ok with you? To be mine?” You asked.

“Like- like your boyfriend?” He said looking up at you with puppy eyes.

“Yes, silly” you smiled.

“of course! Yes yes! I’d love to be!” He said happily.

“Then it’s settled. You’re all mine. And you know what that means?” You asked.

“What?” He said.

“I’m all yours too!” You said making him smile even more. He kissed you softly cuddling up into you. “All mine” he said in almost a whisper before slowly falling asleep.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[gay-dorito-dust]

(Idk if ur rq are open bc I can't find any indication of it being, but I hope it is and if it isn't km sorry and h can just ignore this until they are!!)

Maybeee bat boys x reader who zones out a lot and tends to make faces according to what she's thinking abt. Like a smile or frown. And sometimes when they ask her what's up she's all secretive and what not.

Thank you!!

I dunno if I did this right but here ya go!

Dick makes a game out of it and tries to guess what you were thinking about.

Even if you don’t tell him why you’re smiling or making a face of thought, he is surprisingly good at being able to figure it out regardless, but for every expression he gets wrong you’d have to give him double the kisses for the ones he gets right to make up for it.

He loves watching your face contort like a ventriloquist through a rapid fire of emotions depending on what your mind has decided to remind you of, and today it was the memory of Hayley in her Halloween costume of Nightwing, just to match with Dick in his Nightwing suit as he prepared to enter the bloodhaven annual Nightwing contest.

Basically a contest where people deduce if anyone had a similar ass shape to Nightwing himself, a contest you find ridiculous but the imagine of Hayley in her Halloween costume was the sweetest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that you couldn’t help but smile widely at.

You had albums full of Hayley in her Halloween costume with Dick photobombing in the background.

‘What’s on that pretty little mind of yours sweetheart?’ Dick would often ask.

‘Something silly.’ You’d reply with on the odd occasion as to keep him guessing, finding his attempts fun and only giving him pity kisses when he got a majority of them wrong. He had only got a handful right before but on all the other occasions he’s fails spectacularly.

‘Something silly like the time I lost the nightwing contest to Jason that one time?’ He answers wrongly but you couldn’t help but give him a pity kiss for being somewhat right but wrong simultaneously.

‘Sure darling.’ You’d say as you went back to zoning out on Hayley in her Halloween costume while dick burrows his face into your neck, murmuring about how of all people did Jason won the contest when they look nothing alike before going on about how Jason was a brick shit house in comparison to his muscular yet flexible body.

You’ll have to give him more pity kisses to ease his bruised ego by saying he wins all the Nightwing contests in your eyes. When in reality Hayley wins them all just for the fact of being adorable.

Damian found it weird at first for your face to be expressive, believing that it would make you an easy target for others to take advantage of.

Now however he finds it to be a way of expressing how you actually felt in comparison to the words that escape your mouth. He often discouraged zoning out as it would lead to unfavourable outcomes, but when you zone out and your face becomes soft Damian couldn’t help but find himself looking at you with a soft expression of his own.

‘What are you think about my beloved?’ He’d ask you as he hugs you from behind, resting his head upon your shoulder.

‘Nothing that you would find investing my love.’ You replied softly as the fond smile on your face grew the more you thought about the one time Damian chased Titus throughout the mansion because the Great Dane has somehow stole his robin suit and wouldn’t let go.

Damian kisses your shoulder. ‘Are you sure it’s not something I should be concerned about?’ He’d then ask.

You smile softly. ‘Not at all dami, just a funny thought is all.’ You told him while moving your head to kiss his forehead as though to calm his own thoughts. He hums, not believing you for a second from the mischievous glint in your eyes but was more than willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, just because he adored you so much.

‘As you wish my treasure.’ Your thoughts were your thoughts and Damian wouldn’t pry into them unless you wanted him to, so he just watched your expression carefully and deduced what you were feeling and link it to whatever memory would gain an happy, fond expression and leave it at that.

Jason loves your expressive face, he really does and will playfully pester you about what you were asking a face at while softly pinching your sides as you giggled.

Jason loved watching you as you zone out, perhaps reminiscing about a recent memory or other, and watching your face show how you felt about that particular moment.

‘Whatcha thinking about chipmunk?’ He’d ask from his place on the kitchen counter that he chose to admire you from. ‘Was it about little old me?’ He’d then ask cheekily as you playfully groan, shoving a hand to his face and pushing him away.

‘As if.’ You’d reply before walking away but Jason will continue to pester you about what you were thinking for the rest of the day. He’s just a little shit that you’ve come to love more then anything. Your thoughts were more than not occupied by how comfortable he had gotten with you over the course of your relationship and how happy you were for him.

Though you’d never say such a thing in front of him as he’ll use it against you however he could while giving you the softest, most beloved look upon his gorgeous face. Jason was your weakness and the only thing that you always thought about whether it be his autopsy scars, his white ruff of hair that you found immensely adorable and his plush lips that you want to kiss constantly.

Jason is more then content in just watching your face, but don’t be surprised that he kisses your furrowed brow when he sees your face become troubled, he wants his sweetheart to be happy not troubled because that’s what you deserve. You don’t need words to describe how happy you were for Jason to be able to read the emotion crossing your face, and Jason was more than happy to be of reassurance for when you needed it.

Bruce is amused whenever you made a face at something, or nothing in particular.

Like Damian he views it as a way of expressing your inner most feelings towards something or someone without having to vocalise it. It intrigues him as it’s not often that he comes across someone who wears their emotions across their face like you, after all Gotham if filled with some of the most guarded people to ever exist, him included.

It’s fascinating but even he got a little curious when you were smiling a little too widely one day, silently chuckling to yourself as you tried to get ready for bed.

‘What is making you laugh my dear.’ Bruce would ask as he sets aside his novel, moving to his side to look at you while the hand at your waist drew soothing patterns into your skin.

‘Nothing.’ You said as you chuckled.

‘Are you sure it’s nothing? Seems like you might be reminiscing of the time at the iceberg lounge where I mistakenly striped down to my boxers and tabletop danced.’ Bruce replied and all you could do is look at him with a somewhat shocked expression, you knew he was good but you kept forgetting just how good he was at deducting it always caught you off guard.

‘How-‘ you began.

‘Detective remember.’ Bruce chuckled slightly as he kissed your forehead.

‘But that was too specific of a memory for you to guess correctly.’ You rebutted, wanting to know how he knew about that particular memory.

‘It’s not too difficult for me to differentiate between the facial expressions you have towards each and every time you zone out my dear, so while it maybe impossible to believe but to me it’s as easy as breathing.’ Bruce replied as he brought you into his chest. He really did take the time out of his day to memories and learn the smallest of differences between your facial expressions, so much to the point where could tell whether the thing you were zoning out on was a good memory or not.

‘I’m not sure whether to be flattered or not.’ You murmured to yourself as you rested again his strong chest, tracing the many, many scars it possessed with featherlight touches and affection in the form of small kisses pepper against them.

Bruce only tightens his hold on you and kisses the top of your head as he hums. ‘Flattered preferably as the expression you make is sweet and warm.’ He tells you with his voice heavy with sleep.

‘Flattery it is.’ You said sluggishly as you cuddled yourself into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life as he kept you close, presenting the door his back out of his need to keep you safe and secure.

[slut4celebs]

Jersey Swap

Sabrina Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1,056 words

Trigger Warnings: nothing but a lot of cute fluff imo, I know nothing about soccer so I left that part kind of short and looked up random players.

Request/Synopsis: "i was thinking like the reader is a really good and famous soccer/football player. Maybe like her a sabrina are in a secret relationship and havent told the public yet so sabrina comes to one of her games wearing her jersey. Then maybe reader goes to her concert and like comes on stage or something idk." - A fic in which Sabrina wears R's to a game and (Y/n) wears a custom made Sabrina jersey to her show.

Requests are open. < Please guys, I'm begging.

Sabrina Carpenter and (Y/n) (L/n) had decided to keep their relationship private over the course of a year due to the backlash over Sabrina's last few relationships and (Y/n) being a much private relationship. However, this was proving to be harder as time has gone on, and they've been wanting to actually go out on dates together or hold hands in public. It was something they had to discuss, but they finally figured out how they would come out as a couple to the fans without giving up their full privacy or hardlaunching on social media. They chose a more demure way to get their point across without giving too many details away or letting the media comment on their posts.

It started with (Y/n)'s soccer game. Sabrina attended with her best friend, Joey King. She wore a custom made jersey with (Y/n)'s last name on it. At one point, during the game, (Y/n) even blew Sabrina a kiss. It was in the little moments, if someone was paying close enough attention, they'd catch it. And saying as women's soccer had a majority of gay watchers, someone was bound to catch up on it pretty soon. Sabrina blew a kiss back, making (Y/n) grin before the coach yelled for her to get her head in the game. Lucky for her, her face was too red from running for it to be too obvious she was blushing from being reprimanded. After the game, (Y/n), Sabrina, and Joey (as well as a few teammates) were pictured at a restaurant.

The next night, there wasn't incredibly commotion on Sabrina and (Y/n). Only a few people caught onto their charade, but their posts weren't reaching anyone yet. (Y/n) pulled on her custom Sabrina Carpenter jersey, lying on her girlfriend's bed. When Sabrina got out of the restroom, having just put on some make-up for soundcheck, she grinned. "I love that on you," she commented happily, leaning down to kiss her girlfriend, who reciprocated the kiss happily. (Y/n) was, admittedly, a sucker for her girlfriend's kisses. She was enamored by everything Sabrina was. She was incredible on stage and off. (Y/n) couldn't help the way she simply admired her girlfriend to the fullest.

At the show, (Y/n) was in a special section alongside her teammate, Naomi Girma. While Girma had some merch on, it was (Y/n) who adorned the custom jersey and had a big kiss mark on her cheek, put there by Sabrina. It was the transition from Dumb & Poetic where Sabrina is pretending to arrest someone from the crowd. That someone happened to be (Y/n). "Um, excuse me, everyone, but do you see that girl in my jersey? Next to that soccer player. Her name is (Y/n)…" She said coyly, being extra flirty on stage. "Girls, girls… See that girl? She's under arrest for being too hot and sexy." She said with a fake pout to her dancers. One holding up pink, fluffy handcuffs. (Y/n) laughed and blushed as Girma shoved her shoulders playfully.

"Oh, my gosh… Ladies, I just… She's so gorgeous that I'm thinking so many inappropriate thoughts right now and- oh my gosh my clothes. My clothes are falling off just with her looking at me." She said, the bottom half of her skirt falling off, leaving her in a shorter skirt. "Jeez, that's so embarrassing… It just falls off when my girlfriend looks at me, guys. Like I'm just so in love, you know? I'll hold onto these for later, baby." She took the handcuffs, smirking slightly when she announced that they were girlfriend's, the agreed upon approach that left (Y/n)'s cheeks burning. She didn't realize it would make her blush so much.

As Juno played, (Y/n) couldn't take her eyes off Sabrina, knowing full well many cameras were on her. Once the show was over, she and Girma were escorted backstage to meet with Sabrina. She hugged her girlfriend, kissing her. "When you said you were going to call me your girlfriend on stage, I wasn't expecting that." She flicked her shoulder playfully, a huge grin decorating her lips as she looked over her mischievous girlfriend.

Sabrina had an impish smile on her face, holding up the handcuffs playfully. (Y/n) blushed darker as Girma snorted at the scene in front of her. "That's your own fault. I told you to I was going to do it in a very 'me' way." She responded, earning two hands up in surrender from (Y/n) because, after all, she was right. She did say she was going to do in her way. And. knowing Sabrina, she was going to make it comedic. She just didn't expect to actually be a part of the show. It was funny though, and she liked it. She especially didn't mind Sabrina telling the world that she was "so in love" either.

"Right, right. Well, come on. We have to get Naomi home on time. She has a curfew." She teased her friend, Girma rolling her eyes. As the three walked out, they made their way through a special exit. That didn't mean that they weren't bombarded with a few fans regardless. The fans who waited wanted several pictures of Sabrina and (Y/n) together, and Naomi was happy to not be as in the spotlight, as it was overwhelming just as an onlooker.

The next morning, the 'Jersey Swap,' as it was deemed was being reported everyone. Those who captured Sabrina and Joey at (Y/n)'s game (and the two of them blowing kisses) might now be experiencing newfound TikTok fame having witnessed the beginning of Sabrina and (Y/n) going public. The two laughed as they went through the TikToks, ignoring any negative ones. "Looks like we're out in the world, now." (Y/n) said before they shared a kiss. They decided not to make a post about each other, agreeing to only share pictures on special occasions, such as, their birthdays and anniversaries. They still wanted to remain private. Only now, if they wanted to go out, it wouldn't be a secret that they were together. It was just them going out. It was a new feeling that flooded the two as they basked in each other's presence.

[cupcakeshakesnake]

Is it weird that I actually *wouldn't* want to live in Stardew Valley IRL

The notion of a small, isolated rural town where everybody knows everybody unsettles me. Think of the implications.

There are many cases of young Koreans moving from the city to the countryside for a more relaxing life, only to experience extreme gatekeeping and unfriendliness from the residents - for example, they would enter their homes uninvited, demand that they share their crops, demand large amounts of money for "town upkeep", or in extreme cases, commit some sort of crime (i.e. assault) and conspire to keep it from the public. Eventually the young people would be driven back to the city where, yeah, it's polluted and cold and dry, but at least people mind their own business.

That's the kind of thing that ran through my mind as I played Stardew Valley.

Also it makes me think about the different attitudes towards consumerism/capitalism in Korea and the USA. A lot of Korean gamers (that I've seen) have a way more positive view on the Joja route, than, say, r/StardewValley. (I know this is just a fraction of the number of people that play the game, but hear me out.)

A lot of people put way more trust in chain stores and brand names than, Idk, whatever Pierre's got going on.

I have a lot of thoughts and not enough words.

Edit: Yeah actually what the FUCK do you mean I have to say hello to all twentysomething townspeople.

Edit: A lot of Americans seem to dislike Joja because it reminds them of Amazon, but Koreans are usually reminded of some other company that's not as notorious. So when they support Joja, they don't feel like they're selling out, they just feel like they're investing in a more stable infrastructure.

Edit: Off topic but I watched a streamer play SDV for the first time and he assumed all the broken glasses and wet newspapers were from Lewis getting rid of his rivals and hiding the evidence LOL

Edit: There is a widespread notion here that it is better to work for domestic conglomerates because they treat their employees better.

Edit: I may be wrong here but Amazon could disappear and the USA could keep existing, whereas Samsung disappearing may as well mean the end of South Korea. Koreans don't hate the CEO of Samsung as much as Americans hate Jeff Bezos, and even respect him. Something to think about.

Edit: Interestingly, South Korea isn't *pure* capitalism; it's even a bit hard to feel the brunt of it when some essential things like medical costs and certain food prices are controlled by the government.

Edit: There's something about isolation. Because Korea is so small, not a lot of regions are actually isolated. If people don't like a store in an area, they will simply go to another one in the next city over. You can go anywhere. You can traverse the entire country in several hours. On the other hand, the US is like a bunch of islands that are on land instead of the sea. Isolated communities separated by miles and miles of desert or corn fields or whatever else. It makes it easier for the so-hated "big companies" to monopolize over an area.

[alllgator-blood]

*alllgator-blood jumpscare*

I did NOT expect to be gone for *months* but tbf I was planning on coming back when things got better in my personal life, I was NOT expecting everything to get exponentially worse as fast as it did. In my mind I thought it'd feel best to come back on here and pretend like nothing happened and no time passed at all, but realistically I would fucking implode if I did that. I won't say what happened, you'll probably be able to tell that I have observed Indescribable Horrors by the comics I've been making, I just physically could not go on the internet until I felt capable of being a human being again.

I probably missed out on so much stuff and I'm still kinda mortified at the prospect of being interacted with? But if things are still shit and I'm still not feeling alright, feels pointless to just...keep being completely isolated. Plus it's hard to finish stuff when I know nobody will ever see it, so I think coming back on is for the best. I haven't even looked at tumblr in months idk if the fandom has tapered off or gotten bigger but I guess I'll find out. I haven't gotten bored of this game yet, trust me. Just look at my fucking steam hours.

Wow that funny sheep game sure is cool huh? I have a LOT of stuff in progress. I have new comics, new animations, new paintings, new plushies + crafts, probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. A lot of my art was so fucking deranged it'll never see the light of day, but some of it was angst on the same kind of level I usually make. Here's various panels from five different ones of varying levels of finished-ness:

and then on the other hand here are some panels from absolutely fucking stupid comics (or silly scenes from serious comics):

and I have so much more...like SO much. You'll see. Ask box is definitely gonna have to stay closed for a bit but I'm still thinking about that ask blog I wanted to start up....the club won't even be able to handle me when I can check my inbox without my guts tying into knots >:)

[brucewaynehater101]

Warning: Dark, Suicidal Tim, etc. Also small spoilers for the Injustice movie

Had a random thought, slightly inspired by the Injustice movie: what if Tim, in a mental health slump, decided to teach the bats a final lesson? Every time he defends himself against Damian’s attacks, he’s criticized for it. So one day, he just doesn’t.

Damian gets angry and decides to take it out on the person he won’t be criticized for attacking. After Tim doesn’t respond to his taunts, he gets physical, and throws a knife or slashes his sword, expecting Tim to get out of the out of the way or block the blow, and Tim doesn’t. The sound of a blade parting flesh and a body falling to the ground gets the other bats attention, and they turn to see Damian standing there with blood on his blade and Tim’s body on the ground.

(Inspired by the scene in the Injustice movie where Damian kills Dick by throwing a baton (escrima stick? IDK) at him, expecting him to catch it (which, earlier in the movie, he did), and Dick, being distracted, doesn’t, and it hits him directly on the temple. Accident, sure, but caused by recklessness)

Basically Damian needs to learn that attacking other people because you are angry is NOT OKAY. Seriously, if you’re pissed, go beat up a training dummy or scream into a pillow.

Does Damian learn the lesson? Or not? What about B and Dick and the others? How do they react?

[Thank you for the TWs! WARNING: This is bad batfam. I love them, but we're chucking them under the angst crack bus for this]

Tw: Dark/Suicidal Tim, domestic abuse, psychological warfare, manipulation, mentions of suicide attempt

Tim is tired of constantly fighting back and defending himself. He's tired of Damian and Jason attacking him. He's tired of Dick and Bruce pushing his boundaries.

If Tim just allows Damian to stab him, *he'll* be the one to get lectured for not dodging. It will become Tim's fault, as a trained vigilante, for not preventing himself from being injured.

What does he decide to do?

Resist with extreme psychological warfare no matter the damage to himself.

He starts small.

He curates cases/stories of sibling abuse and starts to leave them in places Dick will find (hacking/messing with Dick's fyp, newspapers around the Manor, files on the batcomputer, a case Babs is informed about, etc). They aren't reflective of Tim's experiences, not yet, but they show common patterns: adult figures not stepping in, siblings being pushed to compete, escalation, negative behaviors transferring to people/things outside of the siblings, etc.

For Bruce, Tim tricks the man into reading an intimate relationships psychology textbook by stating it was necessary for a case. He then keeps tricking the man into reading gentle parenting, boundaries, and other such information.

Jason is much easier. Tim just leaves books of various siblings relationships within the man's safehouses (healthy ones, distant, cruel, enemies, abusive, recent siblings [like adoption], etc). Jason doesn't know Tim is the one leaving those books, but he is intrigued by the "recommendations." A lot of them have other lessons Tim has prepared mixed in as well [which, if Jason finds out Tim is the one who recommended the books after he starts getting along with him, then they can have book clubs ^^].

Tim sends a ton of empathy animal related movies/shows Dick's way so that the older one ropes Damian into watching them.

This takes months, but at no point does Tim relate the lessons to Tim himself yet.

He then starts pouring in warnings. When Damian tries to hurt him again, Tim asks Dick, "What if I was too tired to dodge it?" This is the only time he asks. Dick waves it off cause Damian "knows better" now. I

Tim almost gave up the game right there and then to prove a point. He held back, though.

For Jason, Tim throws in shock-value trauma dump phrases when they meet up to prevent the older one from attacking.

Jason: *pulls out a gun*

Tim: "Damn. You'd think after threatening to kill myself to prevent my future from occurring that I'd be okay with guns. For some reason, they still make me nauseous."

Jason: *holsters gun* "What the fuck?"

Tim: *nods and then disappears*

It kind of trains Jason from attacking Tim unless he wants to hear really fucked up shit that will have his mind spiraling for days.

For Bruce, Tim just points out how and when the man crosses other people's boundaries (but doesn't point out Tim's). He doesn't put any expectation or remedy out. He just indicates it to start Bruce's thought process of "Did I just cross someone's boundary?"

Then Tim feels that it's ready. He won't get blamed for not dodging Damian's attack.

So, he lets himself be seriously stabbed.

This cues Damian into having a mental breakdown. Dick and Bruce oscillate between blaming everyone else and then themselves. Jason, after seeing the shitshow of these reactions, assigns himself (without telling the others) to suicide watch Tim [those trauma dump phrases are working against Tim here].

Once Tim awakens and realizes the mess he's created, he fucking regrets it all. He doesn't want to have to clean it all up and manipulate them into being better. He's also kind of pissed at Damian for not aiming for his heart or something. Damn.

[willowsnook]

https://www.tumblr.com/willowsnook/777849918464393216/halfway-to-always-pt-2

more pleaseeeeeeee!!! maybe like their relationship growing more ? idk more relationship things since we technically haven’t see them together

pt. 1, pt. 2

Quinn hughes x sharks!reader

—-------------------------------------------

Long distance had not been easy, but you and Quinn were really trying to make it work. It was a lot of late-night calls, quick trips across the border, and constant texting. If you were at a different point in your life, you might complain, but where you are now was actually perfect. You didn’t have to worry about splitting time between work and a boyfriend, because your boyfriend lived 900 miles away, so he wasn’t expecting your physical time. 

It was easy for him too – he had strayed away from relationships ever since he was drafted in the NHL, not wanting to put someone through the experience of him being away all the time and always focused on hockey. The first half of the season came and went and you fell into a good routine: watch Quinn’s games when you could, call him after, fall asleep to his voice.

It was after a night Sharks game, when you saw that someone else had tried to call you: Ellen. The second you saw the missed call, you immediately dialed her number. 

“Hey Ellen, sorry I missed your call,” you said, concerned. It was pretty late where she was at so the unexpected call had you on high alert. 

“Hey sweetheart, I know you don’t have your phone on during games, but I wanted to tell you that Quinn got hurt tonight,” she said softly.

Your heart sank, “How hurt?” 

“Not terribly, but something with his obliques,” she said. “I talked to him an hour ago, he said it’s looking like there’s a good chance he’s going to miss some games.”

You were devastated for Quinn; missing some upcoming games likely meant he wouldn’t be able to play in the Four Nations tournament either. He was so happy when he was selected for the team and you knew this would crush him. You thanked Ellen for the call and called your boyfriend next. 

“Hi baby,” he greeted sleepily. 

"Hi, I just heard. Are you okay?" Your voice was tight with concern.

"I've been better," Quinn sighed, and you could practically see him running a hand through his hair, that frustrated gesture you'd come to know so well. "Doc says it's just a strain, but..." He trailed off.

"Ellen mentioned you might miss some games."

A heavy pause hung between you. "Yeah. And probably Four Nations too." His voice cracked slightly on the last word, confirming your fears.

"Oh, Quinn," you whispered, wishing more than anything you could be there to hold him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's hockey, you know? These things happen." He was trying to sound casual, but you could hear the disappointment weighing down each word. "I just... I wanted it so badly.”

He sounded so meek over the phone, and your heart broke in half listening. You tried to keep the conversation going but saying he was tired, all you could do was remind him that you were here for him before hanging up.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. He had his bag thrown over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“Quinn injured his oblique,” you told him, trying to keep your emotions at bay. 

“How bad?” He asked. 

“Bad,” you replied. “He’s going to miss four nations.” 

Will held open his arms, and you crumpled into them, trying to take deep breaths. You heard him talking to someone else so you pulled back, meeting Macklin’s sad gaze. He collected you from Will’s arms and held you tightly against him. 

“Okay, let’s make a plan,” Macklin told Will. “You deal with the flight stuff and I’ll get her stuff from the apartment?”

“Already looking up flights,” Will said, scrolling through his phone. “Last one of the night leaving in two hours. I’ll get it.” 

“How much is it?” You asked, turning to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Will,” you warned, and he gave you a look.

“Dude, we make so much money, it doesn’t matter.” 

He didn’t let you argue any further and after a quick stop by your apartment you were on your way to the airport. 

Macklin had driven you, and you sat in silence for a moment before he nudged your shoulder gently.

"He's going to be okay, you know," he said softly. "Hockey players are built differently."

You nodded, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. "I know. It's just... he wanted this so badly."

"And he'll have other opportunities," Macklin assured you. "But right now, what he needs is you."

The flight to Vancouver was mercifully quick, though you spent most of it staring at the seat in front of you, unable to sleep despite the late hour. By the time you arrived at his apartment, it was nearly 3 AM. You used the key he had given you the last time you’d seen him to open the door to the quiet place. 

Being as quiet as possible, you set your bag down on the couch before heading towards Quinn’s room. Taking a moment, you admired his sleeping form, his eyebrows were unconsciously furrowed, an almost scowl on his face. 

You stepped into the room slowly, unsure if you should wake him. But as if sensing you, Quinn stirred, his eyes blinking open. The second he registered that it was you standing in his doorway, his expression softened.

"Hey," he rasped, voice thick with sleep and surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I got on the first flight I could," you said, stepping closer. "I couldn’t just stay there knowing you were hurting."

He sat up with a wince, pushing the blankets down to his waist. “You flew all the way from San Jose… in the middle of the night?”

You nodded, climbing up onto the bed beside him. “Of course I did.”

His jaw clenched for a second, like he was trying to hold something in, but then he reached out and gently pulled you into him. His hand slid around the back of your neck, his lips pressing against your temple. “You’re crazy,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back. “But I love you. And I wanted to be here.”

“You love me?” He asked, frozen in place. Your breath hitched, not realizing what you had let slip out. 

Your heart hammered against your ribs as the admission hung in the air between you. You hadn't planned to say it like this—in his darkened bedroom at 3 AM, both of you exhausted, him injured—but there it was.

"I do," you said softly, deciding to own the moment rather than try to take it back. "I love you, Quinn."

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, a mix of vulnerability and wonder crossing his features. Then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I love you too," he whispered, his hand gently cupping your face. "God, I've been wanting to tell you for weeks, but I didn't want to say it over the phone."

Relief washed over you, followed quickly by a warmth that spread through your chest. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“If it means I get to be woken up at 3am to you in my room, I’ll do it more often,” he joked and you laughed. His tone turned serious again, “I’m glad you’re here. I needed you.”

“I know,” you told him, bringing your lips to press against his. “I’m here, always.” 

[saeyoungchoismaid]

ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ: ꜱᴛᴀʀᴅᴇᴡ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: ꜱᴇʙᴀꜱᴛɪᴀɴ, ꜱᴀᴍ, ᴇʟʟɪᴏᴛᴛ, ᴀʟᴇx

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

A/N: trying out a new format, so lemme know what you think! Idk if this'll become a regular thing, but I like the way this looks lol. It's so fancy. Also, I got some requests for sdv on my other blog, so I'm posting it here and combining all the requests into one lol

ꜱᴇʙᴀꜱᴛɪᴀɴ:

out of all the bachelors (that I write for), I think he would take the longest time to warm up to

if you become friends with Sam or Abigail first, it'll definitely help him warm up to you faster

after y'all finally start dating (you probs had to ask him), he's still pretty shy around you

he doesn't have a lot of dating experience (if any at all), so he's very unsure of how to go about things

after getting to know each other more though, he finally starts to relax more around you

in general, I think homeboy is very reserved

so, I think when it comes to initiating physical touch, telling you what's wrong, etc etc, it can take him a long time to actually get around to doing those things

you always reassure him through everything though and make sure he knows that you're there to support, learn, and grow with him no matter what :)

after like a year of dating, y'all are basically perfect

you know the in's and out's of the other person

homeboy is a BIG cuddler

I think the way he shows physical affection is probably quality time

I can just see him wanting to share your space, even if you two aren't necessarily doing anything together

Like, just do your own thing while he games, or come join him!

when you two live together, I think things are kinda bumpy at first as you adjust to having someone else in your space all the time

probs leads to a few arguments, but nothing some good ol communication can't fix

when it comes to going to bed, homie stays up rather late, so if you don't, you banish him to the abyss (the living room) if he needs to do something with light or sound (if that'll keep you up, that is)

if you're also a night owl, you two are two peas in a pod

y'all will curl up and watch a movie, talk, play games, you name it

nighttime is always his fav time to spend with you bc you aren't busy doing farm work

I think his fav cuddling position is spooning, but where you spoon him 🥺 he just wants to be held man 🥺

ꜱᴀᴍ:

falls in love with you SO FAST

dude was smitten with you as soon as he saw you tbh

he's just such a simpy loverboy, he ca't help himself

gives you gifts probs just as much as you give him gifts

matter of fact, that's probs his love language right there

OMG loves writing short lil verses for you 🥺 (definitely is WAY too shy to read or preform them to you at first, but maybe once you two start dating he shows them to you and you literally SWOON)

probs asks you out at least three times a week and you always think it's a joke (aww and maybe at one point he stops asking and you're kinda bummed cause you thought it was really cute but when you mention it to Abigail or Sebastian they're like ??? he wasn't kidding and you're like GHOSRIGHR SAM BABE PLS COME BACK omg the potential angst I'm-)

when you two are officially together, he is not quiet about it

bro basically makes a public announcement that y'all are madly in love (he's so embarrassing pls)

even before you started dating, he's very touchy with you

in general, I think he's a touchy kinda guy, but especially with you

always has his hands on you, always wants you close to him, always always always

similar to Sebastian, I think he's also a night owl, so if you are too, he's just like :) let's! watch! a! bunch! of! movies! :) (and then falls asleep during like the second one lmao)

also a big gamer, so he'd piss himself if you offer to game with him

fav cuddling position is probs spooning where he gets to hold you as close to him as he likes :) (which is as close as humanly possible)

ᴇʟʟɪᴏᴛᴛ:

I think Elliott is super polite and friendly to you, but nothing more

so, it's you pursuing him, I think

he probs doesn't even realize that you're flirting with him and trying to rizz him up for the longest time LMAO

he's always very flattered and honestly a little flustered anytime you give him gifts, compliment him, etc.

will die ON THE SPOT if you write a poem for him (even if it's bad. it's the thought that counts <3)

when he starts to take romantic interest in you, expect a LOT of poems, actually

in general, anytime he speaks to you it's all very flowery and beautiful (and sometimes you don't even really know what he's saying bc it'll be old english, but you know it's romantic nonetheless)

"Thou art wise as thou art beautiful." and "Mine eye is enthrallèd to thy shape." and the probs the most romantic one by far that he said once you two started officially dating, "You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read."

treats you like royalty, on god

he's such a hopeless romantic, so he does the whole nine yards of flowers, candies, poems, love letters/notes, thoughtful gifts, you name it

he's enraptured by you and wants you by his side for all eternity

in general, I think his love language is probably words of affirmation

he tends to go on poetic tangents about your beauty (and just you in general) quite often

he's a simp, your honor

as for sleepy time, I think he's an old man that goes to bed at the latest 10 pm and wakes up earliest 7 am. This, of course, is if he isn't struck by creative genius and has to write until 6 am to get everything he needs out

awe, it's cute because if you're out and about trying to finish some farming stuff, by like 2 am he's waking up bc he's like :( where are you :( the bed is cold :(( come back :((( and is all worried about you bc "it's late." But the second he does it and you're like babe wha- he's like "No talk. Must write." and that's the end of the conversation LMAO

fav position to cuddle is the one where he's laying on his back and you're on your side with your head on his chest/shoulder/neck. He LOVES LOVES LOVES rubbing your back and/or playing with your hair as y'all fall asleep

ᴀʟᴇx:

is not shy about how he feels about you

compliments you EVERY SINGLE TIME he sees you without fail

he loves how flustered you get when he does it

is definitely the type to be able to dish it out but can't take it

WILL turn into a tomato ON SIGHT if you compliment his muscles or tell him he looks strong

he probs asks you out on a date rather shortly after meeting you and does his best to rizz you up

I think in his head he's this big, tough, macho guy with these big muscles and words made of satin, but in reality I think that while he is strong, he's such a dork (in the best way possible)

like, on your first date, he's probs like "yeah ima charm the pants off of them!" and then he sees you and literally can't stop stuttering and tripping over his own words because of how beautiful you are

bro is COMMITTED to you after that first date though

he's always asking to hang out to the point he even offers to help you out on the farm (which he ends up loving because he likes doing all the heavy lifting stuff, like moving bales of hay or chopped down trees)

bc of this, I think his love language is acts of service bc he knows that it's something he's good at

you need help around the farm? He's got you, babe. You need something from that top shelf? Easy, babe. Oh no! That one place is closing soon and you forgot to run that errand? He can get there in no time, babe. Had a long day and just need to relax? He's ready to give you a massage and run a bath for you. Whatever you need

he's definitely big on physical touch and I think his favorite way of greeting you is to sneak up behind you and hug you from behind

he loves feeling you jump in surprise before relaxing into him

I like to think he's on a very strict regime where he, of course, has to exercise and eat right, but I think he also is required to get at least eight hours of sleep every night

so, similar to Elliott, he's an old man and goes to bed early and wakes up early to start that daily grind 🤩💪

fav cuddling position is to have you lay on top of him, like full body just suffocating him

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLISTS

More with SDV + more with Sebastian

Join my discord server : https://discord.gg/qnDxJ6rr67 

Tag List:  @katelynwithpaint, @babykirbysstuff ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[gothwineaunts]

Can we have the backstory to s2 design change?Especially lenore’s design. She was quite slim before but now it looks like she has a similar body type to annabel. I feel like it defeats the purpose of her trauma and what she’s been through you know?

Design changes for S2 were limited to some hair/outfit changes, and some of those changes won't even go through until after this arc ends to keep things from being jarring. Some people have been talking about the "art style change" and also certain character changes like characters looking younger, or as you mentioned above, Lenore's body type changing, and a few other things too. Like lighting changes and whatnot. These are not intentional changes, and in some cases, not changes at all. I think two things are happening simultaneously: 1. We were a little rusty getting into the production of S2 and as a result a few things were inconsistent for a second there but I believe they're in the process of evening out. We're just two people working on this, there's no team. We try to stay as consistent as possible, but this is all done by hand, and inevitably, even when we're at the top of our game, some panels will look better than others. 2. The art style developed a lot throughout S1 and I think in their minds, people have kind of blended all of those iterations into one art style that isn't representative of what the series looked like by the S1 finale. If you look back at the last 20 or so episodes of S1, they look very very similar to what you see in S2. In fact we actually wanted to reel back Lenore's curves from the end of S1 because we thought they got too pronounced. She's actually boxier and thinner in the few panels you've seen of her in S2 than she was at the end of S1. So idk! Maybe some of it is that we're getting back into the groove of a new season, and also that people kinda forgot what Nevermore looked like during the break. Or idk maybe I'm completely delulu and just can't see what y'all are seeing. The only intentional art style change was that in the S2 eps, Flynn started adding an effect on the lines (she's been doing this on promo art for a long time) where they've got this slightly blurred appearance which makes them feel kinda dreamy and pretty, imo. But people are really panicky about these perceived changes, some real and others imagined, and to that I'm like - art styles do develop with time. It's not bad because it's different! But, I also don't think it's as different as people think.