#i loved making something for someone else

[tomsparkyr]

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘!

following episode one of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

wc: 6.4K

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You sat yourself down on the chair placed in the middle of the room, a soft blue and purple light flooding the area. You smiled at the camera in front of you, feeling a little bit nervous at the entire concept of the show; but nonetheless, you still agreed to contribute to it.

It was difficult not to tell your friends about the whole thing, sworn (and to a contract) that you weren’t allowed to tell them you were entering a home with no outside contact for 7 days; only allowed to tell them you were taking a social media break.

Your family knew, obviously. But unable to tell your fellow youtuber friends was tough, because it was so painfully obvious where you were going.

Having to lie to George, Chris and everyone else was awkward. They had arranged plans for the next week and you had to reluctantly say no, because of course, you would much rather be stuck in a home with people you don’t know and then spending money that could potentially be yours.

Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

”Hello, my name is Y/N, I’m 24 and I’m a youtuber slash content creator!” You grinned expectantly at the camera.

Continuing, “Most of my content is just… me and my friends getting drunk and filming it because we think we’re funny!” You answered honestly, thinking back on the many times you got too drunk filming pub golf videos that George had to give you a piggy-back on the walk home.

The camera crew asked you how well you think you’re going to do in the challenge,

“I’d like to think I’ll do well, honestly!” You laughed.

”I spend money but I don’t spend so much at a time; like I could go weeks without buying something, then suddenly I’m a couple hundred quid down within a week?”

You continued, “I think I can go without my phone for a week; I’d like to think I’m not that addicted.” You laughed and cringed slightly.

”If anything I think I’ll miss my friends more than anything. I’m sure I’ll love the people there but it’s meeting new faces, I’d just love to walk in there now and see someone I know— My dog! That’s it, I’ll miss my dog this most!” You interrupted yourself, losing your train of thought.

The camera crew laughed at you and pushed the interest about your dog back home, “I just hope she’s being looked after. I’ve left her with George for the week so I think she’ll live?” You laughed nervously.

Upon this, the camera crew behind the device smirked and tilted their heads downwards so you couldn’t see their face. A couple of them turned around and subtly nudged each other.

It was at this point that the crew said that your interview was over and that it was time to enter the place you’ll be living in for the next week.

You nervously picked up your suitcase, clinging onto your comfort pillow in your right arm and hugging it tight to your chest. You couldn’t remember if you could take this into the house but taking no risks, you took it anyway.

You entered a white room with zero life in it; a metal detector gate stood in the centre of the room and a hole to put your luggage in.

”Oh, God.” You muttered under your breath as you realised there was no turning back now.

You paused for a second and scanned the area before realising it was just you in here, “Oh, I’m by myself… that’s embarrassing.” You laughed at yourself, knowing your friends at home were going to be making fun of you when this aired.

Walking through the metal detector, you lugged your suitcase behind you and only just recognised that you might have overpacked for a place that would not utilise your items in absolutely any way.

After putting your suitcase on the conveyor, you walked through to the main area in which you could hear some voices, none of which you could distinguish.

Walking through the empty hallway, you called out “Hello?”

Upon saying this, two heads poked out and their eyes widened at the sight of you.

The girl ran over to you and embraced you into a hug and introduced herself, “Hey, I’m Mya!” She smiled at you as you responded; she was happy there was another girl in the house with her already.

Meanwhile, the man who had seen you first turned his attention to the other male in the house as you and Mya embraced; “Yo, George, isn’t that your girlfriend?”

George furrowed his brows, a bit taken aback “My what?” He laughed a bit as his feet took him towards the hallway to peek at the new arrival; who was supposedly his girlfriend?

Pulling back from Mya’s hug, you made direct eye-contact with George, your best friend, standing a couple feet away from you. “What the fuck?” You shouted and broke out into a sprint towards him, him already on route to you.

”No way!” He shouted back and caught your figure into a tight hug, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist and lifted you off the ground slightly as he buried his face into your neck amidst the hug.

You slung your arms around his broad shoulders and fell into the all too familiar embrace, catching his scent and subtly running your hands through the hair on the back of his head.

”Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here?” He chuckled, his voice muffled as his head was tucked into your neck; he had settled you down onto the floor now but didn’t falter his grip by any means.

You laughed back at him, pulling your head away so you could maintain eye-contact with him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You retorted jokingly.

PK looked confused, “So they are boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Mya laughed at him, knowing the extent that you and George got shipped on Tiktok, the occasional edit finding itself on everyone’s for you page.

You and George turned back to look at PK,“No, no! George is my best friend!” You smiled at him, still in disbelief that George was actually here; “Half my videos are just with her.” George finished for you.

PK tilted his head, pointing between you two in which at the time you realised George’s hands were still resting on your waist while yours were cradling the back of his neck.

Confused (still), PK shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal, completely convinced that he was looking at a couple in front of him.

As more people entered one by one, you and George dispersed from the group, his arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you against him the entire time.

You shook your head and looked up at him with a smile, “What are you even doing here?”

George smiled down at you as you settled themselves down on the sofa in the living room.

“Dunno, the Sidemen like me so I thought, why not?” He laughed at himself, you scooted closer to him as he picked up a cushion to set it down on yours and his lap.

He nudged you, “What about you, you little minx, how did you keep that a secret from me?”

You smirked and fiddled with the loose threads on the cushion.

”I didn’t tell anyone!” You admitted, “Not you, not Chris, not Arthur; I told no one! Not even— Wait…” You trailed off, eyes widening.

”George, who’s looking after my dog?” You said, fear flooding your features.

George laughed and threw his head back, a hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you persisted on the whereabouts of your dog.

”She’s living with Chris and Arthur for the week.” He reassured you, an obvious relief washing over you as your shoulders fell from a hunched position.

In your own little world, you and George nattered away to each other, updating him on everything he’s missed and completely ignorant to the new members joining the house; because you were all too consumed with each other.

George just knew at that moment that when this aired, Chris was going to rip into the way he was staring at his ‘best friend’.

A shouting voice tore you out of your George-infused daze as it was directed at you two, “Wait, you’re that couple that’s always edited on my for you page?”

The blonde girl next to her snapped her head around to the pair of you sitting with George’s arm still around you, her eyes widening, “Holy shit! I love you two!”

George’s cheeks suddenly were painted a pink colour and you sported a flushed face. An awkward laugh bubbled from your chest, “What?”

Upon seeing your awkward faces and red creeping up your necks, the blonde girl covered her mouth and apologised, “Oh fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

You stood up and left George’s touch, walking over to the girl with a comforting smile on your face.

“Don’t worry! Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You said as you raised your arms out for a hug.

She met you halfway as she responded,“Ugh, you’re gorgeous. I’m Milli.” She smiled sweetly at you, peering over her shoulder to see the other girl still gawking at you.

The louder one strutted over and immediately pulled you into a hug, “I’m Farah, who is sorry about—“ “Oh, God. Don’t even worry about it!” You reassured the girl, finding it quite amusing that you and George had crept your ways onto other people’s for you page.

time skip!

The bedroom situation was the next challenge.

After introducing yourself to everyone (they acted as if they didn’t know who you were, but they had all seen the George x Y/N edits) you all made your way over to the bedrooms, some even breaking out into a sprint.

A couple people jumped onto their beds, claiming it as their own. There were two double beds and the rest were singles, but because there were only 10 people at the time, sharing a double bed wouldn’t be an issue at the moment.

George leaped onto one bed and said sarcastically, “Oh my God, guys, stop fighting over my bed!” You laughed at him and slowly sat down on the one remaining bed next to his.

You crawled onto your bed after readjusting the pillows against the headboard so you could sit up comfortably, leaning back and allowing your eyes to close momentarily.

It wasn’t until you felt a nudge on your shin that you opened your eyes and saw a George Clarke resting on his stomach, a pillow squished between his chest and the bed, his beaming smile staring at you.

You tilted your head at him and smiled softly, lightly kicking your foot back at him as his hand lingered on your leg; the rest of the room became a blur as he kept looking at you.

Sending a quick wink your way, he hoisted himself up off the bed and gestured a hand out to you. You took it as he helped you onto your feet, so the group could walk back into the living room per producers request.

The group all positioned themselves on the couch, George settling down on the end as you squeezed between him and Mandi. With little spare room on the couch, George carefully lifted your leg so it was led over his thigh and his hand rested comfortably on your knee. Opposite you, Whitney grinned at the action.

George was fiddling with his bottle as the group conversed, “So, Y/N what do you do?” Cinna asked you.

Hearing your name, you perked up. “I mainly do YouTube videos with this weirdo here.” You pointed a thumb George’s way.

The group laughed at you and took careful notice at your closeness with George. “And George, what do you do?” She continued.

George tilted his head, “I started on TikTok.” He trailed off as Whitney butted in. “Do you talk on TikTok?”

“Yeah.” George responded. Whitney persisted, “Why not in real life?” You furrowed your brows at this. George, oblivious to her, said “Should I stop?” as he pointed at himself jokingly.

“But you don’t talk in real life! I’m like “George…” Whitney said. She was then interrupted by the Sidemen walking in, smug smirks tugging on their face.

You and George smiled at the familiar faces, previously being in Sidemen videos in the past. You took notice that George’s mood had picked up more now he knew more than one person, becoming more comfortable in the odd place he was confined in.

JJ began for the group, “Welcome to the new series of Inside!” 

The group whooped and cheered at this. Everyone was excited at the prospect of winning a million pounds.

The Sidemen began listing off the rules and concept of Inside, everyone nodding along and the occasional verbal reaction. 

Harry pointed at you and the group, “You’ll be glad to know, the shop is now open!” You and Farah made eye-contact and started jumping up to run to the shop as a joke, the group laughing at the pair of you.

JJ said one last thing before everyone bid their goodbyes to the Sidemen, “Good luck, motherfuckers!”

You all clapped and half heartedly cheered, more nervous than excited at this rate because the money you could win was in the hands of everyone else.

Farah quickly asked as they were leaving, “Wait, can I ask? When is the first challenge?”

“Shut up.”

time skip!

The group all discussed that you wanted to keep the prize money at least 800K, agreeing with a ‘hands in the middle’ before you all jogged down to the shop.

As you entered, half the group were already in there and complaining about the lack of choices they could purchase, Milli however wasn’t upset about the prices at this point.

You and George lurked at the back, shoulder to shoulder and laughed at Mandi as she stood up to the camera asking about the whereabouts of her vodka.

As a quarter of the group decided on food and drinks as the first purchase before you butted in with a suggestion, “Wait, surely we should get some entertainment first, just so we don’t all want to die on the first day?”

George, Dylan and Milli pointed at you, nodding and verbalising their agreement. Milli grabbed your upper arm and took you both to the camera to confirm your order.

“I’ll say table tennis bat and you’ll say table tennis ball, right?” You asked her, she smiled as you both poked your head up to the camera and held your microphone to your mouth.

“Can I confirm the table tennis bat,” “And the table tennis ball, please?” You and Milli spoke, giggling at each other after as you made eye-contact.

You distanced yourself from the group and they began talking louder and speaking over each other, finding yourself settled next to George who had barely spoken outside of you since being in here.

Looking at the list of items, you nudged George, “What the fuck is a ‘golden straw’?” You laughed and furrowed your brows.

You saw his eyes scan the list and chuckle at the item considering its price, “That’s actually a stupid price.” He thought out loud.

“I swear if anyone buys that shit…” You closed your eyes and shook your head, sneaking your arms around him so you could link arms.

The door suddenly opened to reveal the items you and Milli had bought. She turned around and called your name to come over to her. You walked over and tugged George close along behind you.

You saw Milli’s shoulder drop and she leaned down to pick the item up, “What?” You questioned. She turned around and lifted up the one tennis bat.

“No!” You gasped and tightened your grip on George’s arm. “Is it one?” He asked, dreading the worst after your reaction.

“It’s one!” Milli confirmed your suspicions. You groaned, cursing out the Sidemen as everyone around out kept bickering. You watched as Dylan walked back to the camera.

“I’m confirming that you did scam us with that one, I’m not going to lie. So we are ordering one more bat.” He purchased the other bat.

You turned around to face George, smiling up at him as his figure towered over you. “I’m gonna kick your ass at table tennis.” You promised to him and yourself. Laughing at you, he drifted his hands down to rest on your hips, “Best out of three; guaranteed I’m gonna win all three.” He replied smuggly, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Not bothering to listen to everyone talk about eating arrangements, you yanked George’s arm and the pair of you ran back to the living room, table tennis bats in hands and laughing in joy. Even in a confined house with 10 other people, you found George attached to you as if it was only the pair of you; no one else mattered except for him.

George walked around the table, shoving you lightly before the game started in an attempt to throw you off. You cleared your throat, “This is a practice round, no cheating and no foul play!”

“You’re only saying it’s a practice round so you’re not embarrassed when I kick your ass.” George winked at you and threw the table tennis ball down onto the table.

You heard a playful gag next to you, “Ew, guys stop flirting!” Cinna stated sarcastically. You and George only laughed and began playing against each other.

George played against you for a couple rounds, the game going back and forth a handful of times. Eventually, after a good 15 minutes, you beat George in a tight game. George only shrugged and walked backwards to sit on the couch, leaning his body back and relaxing for the first time since walking in here.

You tilted your head and called Dylan up to play against you, still high on adrenaline. “Dylan, come play the reigning champion!”

Hearing this, George’s head popped up with furrowed brows. “What? I thought you said it was a practice round?” He asked in mock offence.

You shrugged, “Yeah it was… until I beat you.” George suppressed a laugh into a groan and rolled his head back as you shot him a sickeningly sweet smile; knowing he had been caught out by you once again (not that he did anything to stop it).

interview room!

“I mean, I think I’ve started off decently. Barely spent money so far, but I haven’t been down there since I got the table tennis stuff.”

“I mean, I don’t really care about winning now that I’ve beaten George in table tennis! I’ve known him for years, played against him thousands of times and now suddenly hours into my new home for the week and straight off the bat I’ve already taken the win”

“My main concern right now is that I’m so hungry. And I know the meals are gonna be shit, but honestly, I could take anything right now!”

After gossiping about the whole pot noodle fiasco, an alert came up on the screen: ‘Lunch is now ready to collect from the shop’.

“Oh, thank God.” You groaned, feeling the effects of a constant rumbling stomach taking a toll on you. George, who was sitting opposite you looked puzzled and partially offended, “You’re taking the piss. Lunch?”

Leading the pack down to the shop, you skipped down to the final step and came face to face with an open trap door and met some… unpleasant food. Picking up two of the pots, you inspected the food.

George creeped in behind you and peered over your shoulder. Upon seeing his presence, you passed him his meal and stiffled a laugh at his scrunched up nose and face of disgust.

Grabbing a spoon, you opened the pot and attempted not to be put off it immediately. You watched Mandi verbally express her utter hatred towards the food; placing a hand on her shoulder, you urged her to try a bit before she opted out. “Hey, Mandi. Just try a little before--”

“Can I confirm an upgrade, please?” You sighed as she ignored you. Feeling awkward now, George wrapped his arm around its usual spot on your shoulder and tugged you against him, whispering in your ear not to worry about it; unbeknownst that the cameras can see and hear everything.

The pair of you walked away from the chaos of buying upgrades, chatting to each other and sitting back down onto the couch.

Cinna watched you and walked up to you, “Come with me to get the rest?” She urged, knowing many people had left scraps of food down in the shop and was aware of your hunger earlier on.

You smiled at her and left George’s touch, him frowning slightly. You followed side by side with Cinna, strutting into the shop and splitting the weight of the spare food between the two of you.

As you began walking away, you spotted something shiny left in the shop.

“No fucking way.” You murmered, now having personal issues with this goddamned straw. Cinna turned around at your words, eyes widening and walking over to pick up the straw.

“Is there a golden straw in there? Did they leave it?” She questioned no one in particular.

You threw the straw a rude face, “That shit cost fucking £2,500?” You shook your head, already having some suspects on who bought it.

Snatching the straw off her, you stormed ahead to the living room to ask some very needed questions; Cinna laughing at you as she trailed behind, finding your beef with the straw hilarious.

“Who bought this?” You spoke loudly as you entered the room, watching George on the beanbag throw his head back in mock frustration, murmuring some swear words in the wake.

Cinna walked in and made a bee-line for Mandi, “It was you, wasn’t it?” Mandi’s lack of an answer told you the whole story.

Passing the straw to Mandi, you felt a hand brush yourself and looked down to George playing with your fingers as he remained seated, his eyes watching the conversations rather than you. You suppressed a smile at this and tried to fight back a blush from creeping onto your face.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as the voice of Tobi rang around the house, “It’s time for your first challenge.”

time skip!

Finally, it was you and George remaining; neither of you had been selected to compete in Insider Dating (a part of you felt like they set you two up on purpose, but by no means were you complaining).

“And lastly… George? Y/N?” Simon smirked, holding his card close to his chest.

The group whooped and cheered as the pair of you stood up, even JJ was jeering you on. Tobi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and JJ let out his gawking laugh in response. You groaned, fully aware it was something revolving between you and George.

George sat down opposite you, a worried grin painted on his face as you sucked in a deep breath, picking up the menu in front of you.

“For not the first restaurant date for these two,” Simon started, smirking as he watched both of your faces grow a shade darker and keeping your heads down low. Some of the other contestants let out a wolf-whistle and slammed the table as they laughed at Simon’s joke. “On the menu for you two is Shocking Questions.”

As you inspected the menu more, confused on what was happening, George had already figured it out. He looked at the Sidemen for confirmation and said, “Oh.” You looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see your blush. “What’s that?”

“We’ll be getting shocked.” He said with a lack of enthusiasm. You closed your eyes and sighed, nervous about both the questions and being shocked; but remaining determined that you wouldn’t press the red buzzer.

Simon started, “Okay, George. You’ll be answering the questions first, so, Y/N, please ask the first question.”

You took a deep breath, inspecting the question before looking up at George and asking him, “What is your worst online dating experience?”

Unsure when to start, George looked around him and then at the camera, “Okay, um…”

He placed his hands on the table in front of him, “I matched with somebody on--” He cut himself off as an electric jolt sent his body forwards as he groaned in pain. You covered your mouth in shock and offered a hand out on the table for him to grip onto for comfort.

Taking your hand very quickly he continued, “That’s a lot of power. Um. I matched with somebody on Hinge, and I was speaking to them for about two days. Voice notes back and forth, it was fun. And then--”

Another jolt came through and he squeezed your hand hard, cursing out in the meantime, “Oh, God! I’m sorry, Y/N!” You shook your head and reassured him, “No, no! Keep going, you’re doing great!” The contestants laughed at you as you attempted to comfort George as more jolts came through.

“Fucking hell. Um, then I tried to meet up with them, but it turns out they weren’t real. I was there for an hour and a half.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his story, focusing on him and keeping eye-contact with him to try and urge him through this. Also thinking at the same time, if his questions were bad, think of the masacre for you.

“I came back home, reverse Google Image searched them--” George’s body locking up in pain from the electric, “And they weren’t real. Fucking hell, that’s a lot!” He groaned, still squeezing your hand across the table.

Simon urged you to ask the next question, “Could we please have the second question?”

Your eyes widened at the question and George felt more jolts come through, “Oh, my God, please, can we make it a quick one?” He begged, playing with your fingers and cracking your knuckles as a way to distract himself from the pain. “Oh, my God. That was actually quite bad.”

You began starting the next question, interrupted by George burying his head into his bicep and groaning out, “Fuck!”

“If you had to snog, marry and avoid three Insiders, who and why?” You stared into his eyes as a faint pink sprinkled his cheeks; you couldn’t decipher whether that was out of pain or embarrassment of the question.

George pulled a shocked yet puzzled face, “I don’t fucking know!” 

PK from the side shouted out, “Yes, you fucking do!” while pointing your way; you were unable to see this as your eyes were trained on George in front of you.

“Both genders?” George joked to try and diffuse the situation, making the Sidemen laugh as jolts of electricity came through more frequently and painfully.

George shook his head and gestured towards you, “Snog you, avoid Farah,” He turned around to face her and sent an apologetic look her way, “Sorry, you’re quite loud!” The rest of the group laughed as he turned back to you, “And marry Y/N!”

The group, including the Sidemen all screamed and pointed accusing fingers at George, while you sat with a mouth open and a surely bright red face by now. “You said Y/N twice!” Simon raised his brows and shouted at the man. “You can’t pick the same person twice!” JJ laughed.

George’s eyes widened as he realised what he did, “Shit! I meant marry Y/N, snog Y/N-- Shit!” He cursed as another jolt came through and stumbled over his words, “Fuck! No! Snog Mya!”

Everyone, including you laughed at him as Simon now approved the answer, and George’s grip on your hand faltered and he hid his face on the table, embarrassed beyond belief.

Some of the girls awed at his answer as the chaos had only just settled down, the focus turning on to you (as if it wasn’t already).

You rolled your head back in an attempt to release some nerves but failed to do so. You swallowed hard and looked in front of you to see George, now sat upright, staring at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

Looking down at the table, you saw George’s extended hand open for you, “Tit for tat?” He tilted his head, smiling at you as you accepted it, your palm brushing his. He took a deep breath as his heart jumped a little bit at the intimate moment shared in front of everyone and dozens of cameras.

Simon perked up again, “George, could you please ask the first question?” 

George looked down at the question sheet, eyes widening at the second question in particular, but chose to tackle that situation when he got there.

“Y/N,” You were waiting for the first shock but it hasn't come yet, “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?” George asked.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh, God. Alright, so basically--” You screamed as the first shock came through and your body jolted forward in a much similar fashion as George’s previously had. You gripped his hand hard, feeling bad that you could potentially be hurting him in the process.

“You’ve got it, you’ve got it.” George encouraged you, a soft smile etched across his face.

“Shit! Okay--” Another shock going up your spine, painful but quick, “He said I was in-- Fuck!” More and more shocks came through. You understood you would have to rush this answer because there was no way you could get through it at this rate.

“He said I was in love with someone else apparently, so he-- Shitting Hell!” You gripped George’s hand. “So he cheated on me and I snitched on him to his mother!” You blurted out, hearing the loud laughter from the contestants and the Sidemen around you, even George was trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

JJ’s laugh stood out from everyone elses, “Damn Y/N! We’ll take that. George, next question?”

George’s smile fell slightly, “Right, Y/N…” Your body jolted forward in pain, “Shit! George, I love you but please hurry up!” The group laughed at your reaction.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N explain the story of your first kiss.” His voice faltered towards the end, heart thumping in his chest as your face paled.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly, “No! No! I can’t say that!” Tobi butted in, “Answer or lose 10K!”

A horrendous jolt of electricity went through your body and your hand held George’s while the other bunched up the cloth of the table as you squeezed it.

“Tell us, Y/N!” You heard other contestants shout at you. Milli shouted, “Come on, Y/N! You can do it!”

You tossed your head back, “Fuck! Okay! So basically, we were younger and neither of us-- Shit!” 

“Neither of us had had our first kiss yet, so we--” You groaned, head now falling forwards as your hair covered your face slightly. George leaned over and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ears. 

“Push the button, Y/N!” JJ urged. “Fuck off!” You screamed back, some of the group crying with laughter and standing up in doing so.

“We played odds on that we had to kiss right then and there! That’s it! Please turn this fucking thing off!” You begged, feeling sweat drip from your forehead now.

However, Simon decided to alter the rules of the game.

“Y/N, we’re not accepting that until you tell us who it was with.”

Your eyes bulged out of their head as the screaming around you ensured, George falling unusually quiet compared to everyone else as his gaze remained locked on you.

“What the fuck? That’s not-- Oh, God!” You groaned, “That’s not fair!”

JJ and Tobi just laughed, “Just tell us!”

You shook your head rapidly, “No fucking way!”

“Say it!” They screamed.

“No!” You responded with the same energy.

“You’re not leaving until you tell--”

“George!”

Everyone around you jumped up in shock and amusement, smacking the table laughing and pointing fingers at you and George.

George’s mouth also dropped open in shock as he didn’t think you would actually admit to it, blush coating his neck and cheeks as everyone was looking at you two and that you had exposed your deepest secret.

Your body relaxed as the shocks stopped but you didn’t necessarily win; sure, not losing 10K is great, but now on day one of your new home, everyone would talk about you and George, definitely not helping your case that you’re not dating.

Simon removed his hand from covering his mouth in shock, “Well… I guess you passed.” He didn’t know what to say, no one did really; everyone was just screaming incoherent words in disbelief of this entire situation.

You had never wanted to hear the words of Tobi more in your entire life, “Insiders, you have completed your first challenge of the series.”

time skip!

After a long first day, you had settled yourself down onto the couch in the living room. Led down, you sported George’s hoodie as he found himself back at the table tennis court; this time battling against PK. Blocking everyone out, you drift off for your much needed nap.

As George played against PK, the new contestant DDG had some questions.

“I didn’t know the Sidemen let couples on here.” He thought out loud, catching everyone in the room's attention. They looked at him with tilted heads. “Who’s the couple?” Cinna asked.

DDG pointed a thumb in your direction as you laid unconscious on the couch, “That’s your girl, right?” He nodded towards George.

George chuckled and looked down, “Yeah, George. How’s your girl?” PK teased.

Shaking his head, George served the tennis ball nonchalantly, “She’s just my friend.” He didn’t know who he was trying to prove, himself or those around him.

Dylan butted in, “Oh yeah, I just kiss my best friends every now and then.”

Without looking at them, George continued, “Ah! I was her first kiss, that doesn’t mean we just kiss every now and then.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” PK laughed. In mock retaliation, George served a harsh ball his way, the mini group laughing at him.

DDG looked between you on the couch and George standing to his right, “Hold up… you’re not dating her?” George shook his head.

He raised his brows, “For real, man?”

George slowly nodded, “For real.” He sounded partially disappointed but masked it as he continued playing table tennis.

time skip!

You found yourself standing in the shop alone, inspecting the items as you were yet to purchase anything for yourself, excluding the singular tennis bat earlier. You heard someone creeping up behind you.

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” George whispered from beind you, crouching down slightly so he could reach your height. You leaned back into him and his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Why the fuck do I want that jiggly ball so bad?” You thought out loud. George responded with a loud gawking laugh, stumbling back a bit and bringing you with him.

You turned around and slapped his chest, “No, George! It’s not funny! Why does every part of me need that jiggly ball?”

He looked down at you with a suggestive eyebrow raise, your face fell as you understood what he was insinuating. “Oh, shut up!”

Laughing, you held his hand and walked out of the shop together. You settled on the couch again after your nap, reintroducing yourself Patrice as the last time you saw him was when you were half-asleep.

A couple of minutes later, you heard your name being whispered at the door. Standing up, you followed the noise and was met with George suppressing a wild grin and something stuffed up his shirt. “Oh, God. What did you do?” You smiled.

George leaned down and dragged the pair of you into the corner of the room, “I might have suggested that Farah get something for you.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement.

“No, you didn’t…” You mumbled. 

It was then that George whipped out the bright purple and blue jiggly ball from underneath his shirt, handing it to you and bouncing it between his hands in the process, giggling in excitement. “Oh, my God!” You squealed.

You took the ball from him and played with it for a moment before looking up to see George already staring at you. You shook your head, smiling at him, “Thank you!” 

You pulled him into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground, swaying the pair of you back and forth slightly. He placed you back down as you seperated from the hug, hands remaining on your waist as you stared at each other, not breaking eye-contact. 

Neither of you said anything to each other, but your eyes said so much more. The hand that wasn’t holding the ball reached up to his face and urged him to tilt his head to the side, before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away from your peck, you smiled at him and backed away slightly. You tossed the ball so it hit his forehead lightly and bounced back into your hands, “I’ll see you later.” You bit your lip to keep your smile from growing.

Walking away, you didn’t notice that George watched you as you went; a hand pressed up against his cheek where you had kissed him, only hoping it was closer to his lips.

As bedtime rolled around, you situated yourself in your bed next to George’s. You rested on the side facing him, finding him doing the same and could recognise his beaming smile even in the darkness.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as the tiredness took a toll on you. You let your hand flop off the side of your bed, not thinking too much of it.

Then, you felt a soft brush against your hand and looked down at it, seeing George’s hand lacing his fingers with yours as his hand was stretched off his own bed. Leaning off the side of his bed, George pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, signaling a sweet ‘goodnight’ to you before the pair of you dozed off.

Maybe this weird, confined lifestyle where everything was overpriced and challenges determined your mood for that day wasn’t too bad. But maybe, it was rather the person holding your hand that could help you tolerate this.

taglist (ps love u all):

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[darkmatilda]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you join the team as a replacement after jj's departure. despite the initial stress and difficulties adapting, you manage to fully connect with the rest of the team. more than that—you make friends. and fall in love. but after unexpected events and returns, your time with them comes to an end—because, in the end, you were only a placeholder.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x bau!female reader, reader is an anxious overthinker whom i want to hug so badly, my intention was not to antagonize jj and i don't want it to be perceived that way, possibly incorrect infodump about tiramisu—offended italians, please don’t come to my house with torches and forks, melancholic, sad ending aka matilda's standard

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.3k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request

6 months ago…

If you look at it in a certain way, almost everything started with tiramisu. Or rather, it started with your conversation with Penelope—overheard by Rossi—where you boasted about being an expert at making this Italian dessert. Or perhaps the most accurate statement would be that it started with JJ. After all, you were brought into the Behavioral Analysis Unit as her replacement — their new, young media liaison, meant to gain more experience through the role. 

Anyway, that Saturday evening, you felt a slight chill on your shoulders as you stepped out of the car, clutching a massive tray of freshly made tiramisu and silently praying not to drop it before making it inside. Rossi’s house—excuse me, his mansion—truly looked impressive.

 You couldn’t say you weren’t nervous. In fact, you were absolutely terrified—and not because of what the senior member of your new team might say about your baking skills. It was something else entirely.Eeryone had been invited that evening, including the team members you hadn’t yet gotten to know outside of work. Your relationship with them was strictly professional, and more often than not, you caught yourself wanting to appear flawless in their eyes. To prove that, despite your lack of experience, you were worthy of taking on this role. That, despite your relatively young age, you were mature and responsible.

So yes, you were nervous. In fact, the anxiety grew with every step you took toward the door, your grip on the tray tightening until your knuckles turned white.That didn’t stop you from almost dropping it when you suddenly jumped at the sound of your name spoken from behind.

 "Oh my—" you gasped, inhaling sharply, instinctively wanting to clutch your chest—except both your hands were occupied.

Spencer Reid's brown eyes widened as he realized just how badly he had startled you.

 "Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"It’s fine," you assured him, nodding a little too quickly. You took a slower breath, feeling slightly embarrassed. You worked with people who hunted serial killers for a living, delved into the darkest, most nightmarish cases—and yet, you nearly had a heart attack just because someone called your name.

 In your defense, you were a woman alone at night, and a tray of tiramisu wasn’t exactly the deadliest weapon.Noticing the guilt still lingering on his face, you forced a smile and lifted the tray slightly. "I mean it. As long as I didn’t drop the cake, everything’s fine."

He stood before you with his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark coat, a purple scarf draped around his neck. The corners of his lips lifted slightly at your response, but you knew it was just a polite gesture—there was nothing particularly amusing about what you’d said.

You suddenly became aware of the silence stretching between you, neither of you moving, the moment teetering on the edge of awkwardness. You cleared your throat. Maybe you should compliment the scarf. You couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by him. 

After all, this was Dr. Spencer Reid—the man whose name had once reached your ears and settled somewhere in your thoughts, cementing itself under the label of genius. That was the lens through which you saw him, having yet to familiarize yourself with any of his other traits.

What you had noticed, however, was that he seemed to prefer keeping you at a distance. And yes, it all traced back to your first meeting—your first greeting, your first outstretched hand, and the first, slightly awkward:

It’s actually safer to kiss.

“You think we’re the first ones here?" you asked, just before pressing the doorbell. Then, hesitating, you bit the inside of your cheek. "Actually…maybe we’re a little too early." 

"I think we’re fine," he replied. "Rossi said eight."

You gave a small nod. The door swung open.

“What are you doing here so early?" You and Spencer exchanged a glance.

"If I remember correctly—and I do—you said eight. It’s eight."

"Decent people show up fashionably late."

"And then you’d complain that the younger generation doesn’t respect your time."

You watched the exchange in silence, noticing the flicker of amusement in both men’s eyes. Of course, they weren’t actually arguing—just friendly banter. Still, something about it caught your attention. You wondered if you’d ever feel comfortable enough around them to join in like that.

He stepped aside to let you both in, and as you crossed the threshold, you realized you hadn’t said a word yet. 

“As promised," you started, nodding toward the dessert in your hands. "My specialty."

Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

"We’ll see about that. “

But he did take the tray from you while you slipped off your coat. 

"I was actually about to make an important call," he announced. "Before someone decided to show up early. So, if you’ll excuse me, you’ll have to entertain yourselves for a bit. Be so kind as not to destroy my kitchen. Everyone else should be here soon."

And with that, he simply left you there. 

Reid clearly knew his way around the house—he had to—because without hesitation, he led you straight to the kitchen, where you set the dessert down on the black marble countertop. And just like that, the two of you were left alone, connected by a slightly awkward silence.

"Maybe I should cut it," you mused, your gaze falling on the tiramisu. "Rossi wouldn’t mind if I used his knives, right?" 

"I don’t think so," he said, standing on the other side of the kitchen island, made of white wood with plenty of drawers.

To your surprise, you realized he was watching your movements. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to realize that you noticed it from the corner of your eye. Or maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear you heard him swallow.

"You know, there are many theories about when and how tiramisu was actually invented," he remarked.

 "I don't think I've heard any of them," you admitted, glancing around for a knife. "I mean, I can make it, but I can’t explain…the historical context behind it" 

He leaned his elbows on the counter, briefly lowering his gaze to his hands. The sleeves of his purple shirt remained slightly rolled up, not quite reaching his wrists.

"It originated in Italy, of course. And the most popular version says it was invented in the 1960s in Treviso. At least, before that period, the name doesn’t appear in any sources."

Focused on cutting the cake evenly, unconsciously sticking out the tip of your tongue, you couldn’t muster any reaction, but you listened intently. Spencer, however, seemed to think otherwise—after briefly glancing at your face, he looked away, apparently deciding to drop the topic.

"What does it mean?" you asked. Your eyes met, and for a moment, he looked surprised. "I mean, what does the name mean?" you clarified with a gentle smile. "I should probably expand my knowledge. What if Rossi decides to quiz me?"

After a brief moment, a small, friendly smile bloomed on his lips.

"Well, in that case, I’ll do my best to prepare you."

You hadn’t been working together for long, but even so, you had already discovered—fascinated—that he was a true wellspring of knowledge, with no apparent limits to his mind. Sometimes, he would lose his train of thought—you had noticed that too. And sometimes, he would stumble when he realized it himself. You found it somewhat endearing. Or at the very least, well…you liked listening to it.

Somewhere around the time you had been acquainted with three theories about its origin, the etymology of its name, the original recipe and its variations, as well as a few interesting fun facts about tiramisu—which you listened to without even realizing that you were still holding the knife despite having finished cutting the cake—the sound of the host’s footsteps reached you. But they weren’t headed in your direction. Instead, he made his way to the door to let the other guests in.

You tried to relax your shoulders, aiming to appear at ease. Bodies are often treacherous and rarely care about how you wish to be perceived. Instead, they ignore your intentions and take cues from your subconscious—and subconsciously, you were stressed.

You quietly scolded yourself, shaking your head slightly. After all, they were all profilers—experts at reading body language. As if on cue, just as the thought crossed your mind, you accidentally caught Reid’s gaze fixed on you. You shrugged, the corners of your lips lifting slightly, feigning ignorance.

Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure what was going through your own head. Maybe it was that deep-seated belief that you always had to present yourself at your best—worthy of this job. Even though this was supposed to be a casual gathering, off the clock, in your free time.

“You guys already here?” Prentiss raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Spencer on opposite sides of the kitchen island. Hotch followed behind her, nodding in greeting. “We’re not late, are we?”

“We’re late?” Penelope’s voice rang out as she peeked into the room, her head appearing in the doorway. She stopped short, and Morgan, walking right behind her, gently grabbed her shoulders to keep from bumping into her.

“It’s just me, baby girl,” he reassured her, a faint smirk on his lips. “Or maybe too much me, judging by that jump. Hey, everyone. Reid. New girl. Good to see you. Not sick of us yet after this week, are you?"

"Oh, come on, don’t act like we’re that unbearable," Prentiss chided, shooting him a look.

By then, everyone had made their way inside, starting to take seats on the high bar stools. You stood there, returning smiles and greetings, and let Garcia pull you into a hug. Derek called you New girl. While you'd grown to like him, the nickname didn’t sit quite right with you. It highlighted your place in the team, making it clear that you weren’t quite like the rest of them.

"Actually, the way we perceive ourselves can be different from how we really are, simply because of how much time we spend together," Spencer mused aloud.

"You might be onto something," Morgan nodded at him, then turned his gaze back to you. "Let’s get an outside opinion. Are we unbearable?"

"You are," Rossi confirmed immediately, not even glancing up from the wine bottle in his hands, likely searching for the vintage.

"I said outside opinion."

Then, all the curious gazes had settled on you. Up until now, your hands had rested casually on the counter, but you pulled them away to hide how anxiously they were moving. Spencer tracked the motion with his eyes—something you caught in your peripheral vision, and you had to resist the urge to curse under your breath. Hiding your anxiety from these people, especially from him, was proving harder than you’d expected.

You hesitated, searching for the perfect answer. You often caught yourself doing this in social situations—as if this were a test question with only one correct response, rather than a casual conversation where anything you said would be fine as long as it was honest.

That evening, everyone seemed to be in good spirits. They were joking easily, teasing one another, and now that all their attention was focused on you, you wanted to say something that would blend you into the moment, something that would break the ice. This was your first time meeting outside of work.

But the longer you stayed silent, the more the right words slipped away from you. It was like a black curtain had suddenly dropped over your mind.

"Who wants to try the tiramisu?" you blurted out at last.

An unbearable awkwardness tightened around your chest—but then, to your surprise, Prentiss laughed, setting off the rest of the group.

"I’m not accepting this subject change," Morgan shook his head.

"I, on the other hand, think it was a good move. Almost diplomatic," Spencer countered. His gaze flickered toward you for a brief second, and you caught something there—though you weren’t entirely sure what. Understanding, maybe? Either way, you felt the urge to flash a grateful smile at both him and Emily.

But Spencer quickly refocused on Derek, directing his next words at him. "Because the real answer could be…” he lowered his voice dramatically,  "…mercilessly brutal."

“Oh, you’re all wrong," Penelope rolled her eyes. "Obviously, she was going to say she’s already fallen in love with all of us. Right, sweetheart?" She turned to you but didn’t wait for an answer—actually, you didn’t even have time to move, let alone speak. "See? Just like I said. Now, let’s try that cake, because I can’t stand the way it’s looking at me with those heavenly little eyes..."

The tight, complicated knot in your stomach started to loosen, little by little. Garcia’s suggestion was met with general enthusiasm and quickly turned into action. Naturally, Rossi had to be the first to take a bite. Everyone’s eyes locked onto him as he slowly swallowed a microscopic piece, as if he were some renowned food critic. You could see amusement on everyone’s faces—even Hotch’s—which was a completely new experience for you.

After a long, tension-filled moment, Rossi gave a slight nod of approval.

You placed a hand over your chest in mock relief.

“That’s the proudest I’ve felt since I got my diploma," you said casually—straightforward, natural, without overthinking.

Maybe you really were starting to open up.

Time moved forward at a gentle pace, and while you didn’t suddenly become the life of the party, the friendly atmosphere started to get to you. You all opened the bottle of wine the host had brought, raising your glasses in a toast to whatever came to mind—after all, there was no real occasion to celebrate.

You noticed that Spencer wasn’t drinking, but he still joined in, lifting a handful of chips instead. The sight made you smile softly before you could stop yourself.

He noticed you watching him. In the background, conversation buzzed, someone laughed loudly, but for a moment, it felt like the two of you were elsewhere.

“Well…” he started, swallowing nervously. You hoped he didn’t feel pressured into making conversation just because you were looking at him. Though, another thought crept in—what other reason could he have for feeling awkward? Only after a beat did you realize that you often felt that way too, for no particular reason. That was just how you were. Apparently, so was he.

“What did you do before?” he asked, then immediately backtracked. “I mean, I know what, of course I know—that’s public information, if you know what I mean. I just meant more like…” He sighed, lowering his gaze for a second, as if exhausted by his own rambling. Then, he tried again, slower this time. “I meant, how do you feel about it? And about the change?”

His question piqued the interest of the others, their gazes shifting back to you. Whatever had momentarily set the two of you apart from the group vanished in an instant.

Just as you opened your mouth to respond, a sound cut through the conversation.

“That’s mine, sorry,” Prentiss apologized, reaching into her pocket for her ringing phone. She didn’t even glance at the screen at first, her thumb already poised to decline the call—until she hesitated. Her expression shifted in an instant, lighting up with surprise. “Oh my God, it’s JJ!”

Everyone reacted similarly, and you tried to mirror their excitement, summoning a smile to your face—though it lacked sincerity. It wasn’t out of any personal dislike toward Jareau; nothing like that. You had met her, of course—you were taking her place, after all, and she had to introduce you to everything quickly. But it hadn’t been enough to form a deep friendship, or any friendship at all. That made you the only one in this group who felt completely neutral about her.

“Oh, you have to answer,” Penelope urged, nodding enthusiastically. “Totally. And tell her I say hi!”

“And me,” Spencer and Morgan added almost simultaneously.

“From all of us,” Hotch clarified, with Rossi confirming it with a nod.

Prentiss stood from her seat, clearly intending to step out of the kitchen to take the call in private—it was meant for her, after all. But just before she left, she hesitated in the doorway, as if mentally going over the instructions.

“Say hi from everyone. Got it,” she muttered under her breath.

“Especially from Penelope.”

“And from—”

“Everyone. Got it.”

When Prentiss’ dark hair disappeared from view, a brief silence settled over the group, broken only by Garcia’s deep sigh.

“I miss her. A lot.”

“It’s not like she died, babygirl,” Derek responded with a teasing edge, though something in his tone—between the words—carried a similar feeling.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” Garcia huffed at him. “I miss having her with us. At work. In the team. Remember…remember how she always used to…”

She drifted into a story, weaving nostalgic but ultimately amused expressions onto her friends’ faces. You caught a glimpse of Spencer out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he still remembered the question he had asked you before the phone rang. But his gaze was fixed on Garcia, listening to her tale with a small smile forming at the corners of his lips.

You tuned out for a moment, lost in your own thoughts, only to be pulled back to reality by an outburst of laughter. You had missed a good chunk of the story—though you weren’t sure if it mattered. Some anecdotes, especially the ones built on shared memories, were meant for everyone’s ears but truly reached only those who had been there. You suspected this was one of them, but still, you joined in on the laughter. Even if you hadn’t caught the joke, you didn’t want to dampen the mood with a blank expression.

You tried to push away the feeling of not belonging. It was difficult at first, but then you realized—that wasn’t the way. You couldn’t push it away; you had to accept it. Because the truth was, you didn’t quite belong. Or rather, you hadn’t belonged long enough. That was natural. You would feel this way for who knows how long, but certainly for a while. As long as the nickname New Girl still clung to you.

Surprisingly, that very acceptance made the rest of the evening easier to get through. Prentiss returned after a while, briefly summarizing what JJ had been up to, but the conversation didn’t linger on her. The knot in your stomach didn’t tighten again. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was something else. Maybe, for the first time, you were starting to feel okay.

*

now 

You recalled that specific moment in your memories, simultaneously sinking into it as if it were happening in real time, yet with the suffocating weight of reality breathing down your neck—a voice whispering that it was just a memory.

If it were happening now, Emily wouldn’t have left the room to take the call. No phone would have even rung. Emily was gone. You had just been to her funeral.

At an hour when most people were deep in sleep, when street advertisements and billboards cut through the darkness, illuminating the city more effectively than the stars ever could, you were half-sitting, half-lying on your bed, your back pressed against the headboard. The dark room was filled with nothing but shapes, mere outlines of furniture—just like your mind was filled only with fragments and silhouettes of thoughts. Frayed, scattered, following no chronology or pattern.

It had been six months since you joined the BAU. Some might say that’s not enough time to form real friendships. But in a job where you could die any day, six months was plenty. In those circumstances, attachment only formed faster.

Your eyelids burned with exhaustion, but you couldn’t close them. With a heavy weight in your chest, for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you kept replaying that moment—that evening at Rossi’s. Those conversations echoed vividly in your mind, but over time, they began to fade, pushed aside by another sound.

Breathing.

Not yours.

Oh. Right.

That night, you didn’t sleep alone.

While you sat on the bed, Spencer lay on his side, his back turned to you, his head resting somewhere near your hip. You weren’t sure how it had happened.

Sleeping in the same bed wasn’t something natural for the two of you—not as just friends. Though over the past two months, that label might have been debatable in the eyes of many. You had never really defined it between yourselves, so you kept calling it friendship.

You weren’t exactly sure how it had happened that night, specifically. After the funeral, after that entire exhausting day, when the sun had set, you had somehow, instinctively, ended up moving in the same direction—toward his apartment. And somehow, instinctively, you had kept postponing the moment of leaving. But when it finally came, his lips had somehow, instinctively, formed the word stay.

So you stayed, changing out of your funeral attire into one of his random T-shirts, the scent of it tickling your nose as you finally lay down, your back turned to him.

You knew he wasn’t asleep either, but what could you say? What could you do? In moments like these, everyone was alone in their own way. Maybe that was why it was so important to have someone there, physically—but even that didn’t quite apply to your situation. His bed wasn’t huge, but it was big enough that neither of you touched. So, in a way, you were alone in both senses, but it didn’t sting as much, mostly because of the scent surrounding you, wrapping around you like an embrace.

You even managed to close your eyes—not that it meant you’d actually sleep. In fact, you felt just as far from it as when they were wide open. At least they didn’t burn anymore.

At some point—after an amount of time you couldn’t track—the scent deepened, became stronger. You tensed, unsure why, until it finally dawned on you with a quiet exhale.

It wasn’t just the scent of his T-shirt. It was him.

Moving closer.

First just slightly, then more. Until eventually, his arm draped over your curled-up frame, his hand settling somewhere against your stomach, where the fabric of the blanket bunched up. 

A delicate tickle against your neck. His breath, his head almost nestled in the crook of it.

Definitely awake—you could tell by the rhythm.

And it was him. Spencer.

It’s actually safer to kiss Spencer.

"Are you awake?" he asked, so quietly the words barely brushed the air. There was a chance they hadn’t even spoken at all. Maybe it was just the sound of his breath, somehow resembling them. Maybe it was just your exhausted imagination.

Still, you chose to answer.

"No," you murmured. "I can't sleep."

"Me neither," he added, though that much was obvious. A shift of his head, an unconscious brush against your neck, sending the faintest shiver down your spine. “Does this bother you?"

"It’s nice," you said softly, unsure of what else you could add. You didn’t really want to speak. His words melted smoothly into the quiet, while yours cut through it—harsh, even when you tried to whisper.

Maybe he took it as hesitation, because his body tensed for a brief second before he started to pull away.

"No…" You tried to stop him, your hand catching his forearm—the one holding you. "Just…stay."

"Oh. Okay."

As if following your request to the letter, he stayed exactly where he was. More than that, he seemed to settle into it even further. The pressure of his chest against your back felt good. You heard him swallow, close to your ear. “Th-thank you. I don’t think…I don’t think I could—I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep alone. Not tonight.”

You didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, you just adjusted your grip, holding it more comfortably.

*

And just when you were starting to come to terms with it, you suddenly found out that Emily was still alive. You could say she had never died, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Well, in a way, yes—her body never stopped functioning, nor was it buried in a coffin. But in your minds, in your belief, in your feelings, it was different. You buried her and went through the grieving process. To you, she was dead.

When she reappeared, everything was too chaotic to dwell on it. There was no shock, no tears—you had your hands full, focused on capturing Doyle.

The realization of it all began to sink in for you, as well as for the rest of the team, only later. She had faked her death. She had allowed you to mourn her. And what was even more shocking to you—JJ had known all along. You knew the two of them trusted each other deeply, but in some way, you couldn't grasp it. How she could stand beside you at the funeral, shedding a few tears, offering comforting pats on the back. How she could keep up the act for days, weeks, and months.

You knew Spencer was furious with her. It was obvious—the anger was clear in his eyes. But even if he had tried to hide it, you would have known. Because ever since Emily's supposed death, the two of you had grown even closer.

Nights spent side by side had become something that no longer required a quiet request; they had become entirely natural for you both. That was how you saw it—a way for two friends to cope with grief and sleepless hours.

You probably should have talked about your relationship. It was something you thought about often—when his sleepy breath brushed against your neck, when his lips occasionally grazed it while he spoke. You should have talked, but that didn’t mean you did.

Maybe you were both too focused on other things to worry about your feelings for each other.

Either way, at first, he was furious with her. You accidentally overheard part of their argument about it, just as you were also an accidental witness to the embrace they pulled each other into when they finally decided to let it go.

A certain skepticism lingered within you. Of course, you didn’t want to dictate whom he could forgive or what he was allowed to demand—that was his decision alone. You understood that. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were the one who had watched what those past months had done to him. How close he had come to slipping back into that. 

When his relationship with JJ had finally returned to normal, you couldn’t hold back anymore—you tried to bring it up.

All you got in response was You wouldn’t understand.

And perhaps he was right. Some things simply weren’t yours to understand—not as someone who had only recently entered his life. Unlike JJ, you hadn’t been there for years.

As they quickly rebuilt their trust, their dynamic, their friendship, a strange, somber thought crossed your mind. You started wondering if, from the very beginning, you had only been filling the space she left behind—just as you had done with the team, stepping into her role.

Before, you had convinced yourself that his friendship with her was entirely different from what he had with you. Because with you, you had foolishly believed, it wasn’t just friendship.

But the more time passed, the more you started to realize that maybe—maybe that had only ever been wishful thinking.

These were the kind of worries you kept entirely to yourself, but at the same time, they gnawed at you from the inside, needing to be shared with someone.

You wanted to talk to someone about it, but there was no one to turn to. I mean, everything was the same as always. Everyone loved JJ—they never stopped—and you were the new, younger girl who might have seemed like she was speaking badly about her out of pure, immature jealousy.

Until now, aside from Spencer, the person you were closest to was Prentiss, but for obvious reasons, you couldn’t go to her. Besides, she would have chosen JJ over you too. That was undeniable.

And that’s how, somehow, you ended up standing outside Penelope’s office, telling yourself that maybe she would understand.

But just as you were about to open the door, doubt crept in. You sighed and leaned your back against the wall. Maybe, when it came to this, there was simply no one on the team you could turn to.

You abandoned the idea entirely, yet your feet refused to move. There was so much internal, mental exhaustion weighing you down. So many sleepless nights, so much stress and worry, so much uncertainty and so many questions.

You heard footsteps approaching. Turning your head to the side, you saw Hotch stopping just two steps away from you. For a moment, he simply looked at you in silence, studying your face.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied flatly. You couldn’t breathe properly. You already knew—had known the moment he stopped—that he wasn’t here to ask about how you were feeling.

"Just tired."

He gave a slow nod.

"I need to have a word with you."

Pressing your teeth into the inside of your cheek, you nodded back.

*

You didn’t actually keep many personal things in the office.

You made sure the rest of the team had been sent out into the field before you started packing them into a small box. They fit easily—it wasn’t even heavy. And yet, as you stared at it sitting on your desk, it felt impossibly difficult to lift.

You guessed flawlessly what Hotch wanted to talk to you about because, in a way, it was obvious.

JJ was back. Emily was back. The team had too many members now, and someone had to go. And the choice was just as obvious.

Honestly, you weren’t even angry. It had to be you—the placeholder.

But if you were aware of that, why did something bitter nest in your throat?      

Before you could take even two steps forward toward the exit, Spencer had already reached you, hesitantly extending his hands.

 "Let me help—"

 "No need," you said, tucking the box under your arm, keeping it out of his reach.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other in silence. You had no idea what to say. In fact, it was hard to even look at him. That was why you wanted to do this alone—to just leave quietly. You didn't even know why he was there. You must have miscalculated something, or maybe they had simply come back earlier.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he, too, remained silent. Walking past him now would signal anger, resentment—but that wasn’t exactly what you felt. So you stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak.

"You're leaving," he finally said, swallowing hard. A statement of fact he could have easily left unsaid. Adjusting the box in your arms, you simply nodded.

"I mean—what I wanted to say is… just remember that you're my friend. And I hope you still will be, even…even if we’re not working together. This doesn’t really change anything."

But if you hadn’t worked together, you never would have met. Never would have grown close. Besides, it wasn’t even the job that had stood in your way. It was something else—something simpler, because it depended only on the two of you, yet for that very reason, it was also much more complicated. Specifically, communication.

"I know," you admitted with a slight nod, though without much conviction.

Spencer tried to smile, briefly catching your gaze—one you immediately dropped to the box in your hands before he could read anything from your eyes.

"I have to go now. This is starting to get a little heavy."

"You know, I can really help you—"

"It's fine," you cut him off firmly. "It's really fine, Spencer."

He let out a quiet sigh of surrender as you headed toward the exit.

[mangooes]

Far away from home, closest to the heart

The Onychinus estate was in crisis.

Not because of a rival organisation attack. Not because of a failed deal. No—this was far, far worse.

(Name) was out of town.

And Sylus Qinche was suffering.

The once-playful criminal lord mafia boss had transformed into a short-tempered, brooding nightmare.

He already had a reputation for being intimidating, but when (Name) isn’t around? It’s ten times worse. Deals that would normally be settled with his usual playful strict charm are now met with cold, cutting words that leave his business partners second-guessing their entire lives.

Meetings that usually ended with his amused smirks now concluded with threats sharp enough to make seasoned criminals sweat. Paperwork that normally sat untouched for days was suddenly everyone’s problem—because if he was miserable, so was everyone else.

Luke and Kieran, Sylus’s most trusted men, were struggling.

Kieran threw himself onto the couch in their shared office, groaning. “Boss has lost it. He just scared a man into signing a deal without reading it.”

Luke, who had been stress-drinking his fourth cup of coffee, nodded grimly. “I saw. The guy didn’t even hesitate.”

“We need a plan.”

Luke sighed. “We just have to survive until the Missus comes back.”

Kieran ran a hand down his face. “God, I love her.”

Meanwhile, in the boardroom, Sylus leaned back in his chair, crimson eyes gleaming with unfiltered irritation as one of his business partners nervously stammered through a proposal.

He exhaled sharply. “Do you have a point? Or are you wasting my time?”

The man flinched. Trembling under pressure.

Normally, Onychinus's boss is smooth and calculating, but now? His patience is gone. Someone tries to haggle too much? He leans forward, voice deadly calm: “You must have a death wish.”

Some lower-tier business associates genuinely think he’s on the verge of a major war because he’s so on edge. Little do they know, he just misses his wife.

Outside the boardroom, Luke and Kieran exchanged looks, already calculating the outcomes of the said meeting.

He’s hopeless, Luke thought. Completely, utterly hopeless.

Luke and Kieran, usually the chaotic duo, become very cautious when the missus is away. They love their boss, but when he’s in a Sab-starved mood? Yeah, they’re not about to die early.

Their usual banter is nonexistent. They speak in careful, measured tones, making sure not to set him off. They strategically find ways to be busy elsewhere, lest they face the wrath of their brooding, love-starved boss.

Each and every day that the wife of Sylus Qinche was gone from his reach, becomes a stepping stone towards doomsday.

Kieran: “Boss, we got intel on the shipment.”

Sylus, barely looking up: “Does it tell me when my wife is coming back?”

Luke, muttering: “We’re so screwed.”

They love her. Not just because she’s fun, but because she’s the only one who keeps their boss from turning into a nightmare. They count down the hours until she’s back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moment (Name) stepped foot into the estate, the change was instant.

Sylus, who had been a nightmare for days, practically appeared in front of her, his arms wrapping around her waist in a crushing embrace.

One moment he’s terrifying, the next he’s smirking, arms open, greeting her with a sickeningly sweet,

"Kitten," he murmured against her ear, voice filled with desperate relief. "You're finally home."

She knows what happens when she’s away. She sees the exhausted, relieved faces of the staff. She feels how tightly Sylus holds her when he embraces her. And, of course, she milks it.

(Name) laughs, as she pats her husband's head. "Miss me that much, Sysy?"

He pulled back just enough to look at her, crimson eyes dark with something deep. “I was dying, sweetie.”

Behind them, Luke and Kieran—who had been suffering—exchanged a look of pure disgusted relief.

“She’s back,” Kieran whispered, almost emotional.

Luke wiped an imaginary tear. “We’re saved.”

As Sylus buried his face in his beloved’s neck, murmuring sweet nothings, the entire estate seemed to breathe again.

And just like that, the Onychinus estate returns to peace.

I need to start writting lovesick sylus again, MAGNUM OPUS CARD WAS THE BEST EXPIRIENCE EVER THANK YOU INFOLD I LOVE YOU

[aubvrns]

you sleep so soundly, baby

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

Sypnosis — You struggled to keep yourself awake to wait for Wanda, resulting to her finding you asleep on the couch. She proves how worth it she is to wait for.

Tags — Fluff (because I was happy today), Cuddling (because I am so touch deprived), Mentions of doing something more than cuddling (because I am a freak)

Note — Short, but I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

You remember trying to keep your eyes open.

But the soft, white covers of your pristine blanket betrayed you as the clock struck 11:00 PM. A faint anxiety lingered as you awaited Wanda's return from her mission, eager to be close to her after a week apart.

You did everything you could to stay awake—drinking two cups of coffee, watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, and scrolling through your old pictures on your phone.

Looking at those memories brought a smile to your face, even if it made you a bit emotional. You let out a heavy exhale and adjusted your position on the sofa, tucking your arms under the covers.

The last thing you remember is the thud of your phone hitting the bridge of your nose, followed by a sharp pain. But due to your extreme fatigue, you shrugged it off and fell asleep anyway.

—

“You look so freaking cute.”

You stir at the sound of someone whispering in your ear and reach for the covers, but someone else has already pulled them over you. Your head is no longer resting on the armrest of the couch; instead, it’s resting on a soft pillow.

You slowly flutter your eyes open, and familiar green eyes meet yours. The sight of her bright smile makes your heart skip a beat. As you rub my eyes, strong arms pull you closer to her warmth.

“Hey, you.”

Wanda's raspy voice brushed against your ear as her chin met your cheek, kissing your lips softly. “I missed you so much, my baby.”

Letting out a chuckle, you move yourself closer to her. Your arms wrapped around her torso as her hands lingered around your waist. You assumed she was just as tired as you and that both of you were now lying on the couch, latched onto each other.

“I don’t think I’m exactly baby-sized.”

You responded with a playful quip, causing her to burst into laughter. Without needing to think, you nestled your face into the soft curve of her neck, enveloped by the warmth of her presence. Her sweet, comforting scent of vanilla wafted around you, wrapping you in a soothing embrace that overwhelmed my senses and sent dizziness through your mind.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me. I could’ve just slipped under the covers with you the moment I got home.”

You felt her fingers gently running through your hair, a soft touch that sends shivers down your spine. Her smile feels warm and exciting as you hug, bodies fitting together perfectly.

“I wanted to wait for you. ” You mumble against her neck, placing a gentle kiss before nuzzling into her again.

Your words made her heart flutter. Wanda gazed at you with a warm, affectionate smile that lit up her entire face, her eyes sparkling with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Go to sleep. Don’t make me love you even more than I already do.”

You roll your eyes playfully, slowly pulling yourself to sit up.

“How much do you love me?” You whisper like you were spying on someone, eyes gleaming with amusement.

You knew she loved you as much as you did. To love someone is worth the effort of pulling them from sitting to lying back with you, and that is exactly what she did.

Wanda grinned, sides of her mouth turning upwards as she sultrily whispered back, “Want me to show you how much I do?”

Oh, she’s good.

“Not really in the mood right now but okay.” You bite back, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before tucking yourself back into the comfortable blanket.

The weight of it was pressing against you, but it was to keep you warm. You knew she was worth waiting for, even if it meant the depravity of the lack of sleep.

“Boring.” Wanda pouts, kissing you back. She waves her fingers gently as she threaded red energy amongst the air, closing all the lights in your home.

The covers weren’t as heavy the moment she hugged you. Wanda made your heart race and your mind dizzy all at once.

You stare at her, the moon reflecting softly at the glint of her eyes. Whispering softly, “I hope it’s you I wait for everyday.”

Wanda hummed in response, astute to knowing that to hope for it is unnecessary. It was already certain.

“I love you, too.”

—

[adieutristana]

of course! thank you for requesting <3

so i lost this request but did get a screenshot. anyways never tone it down! being sassy is not a bad thing!

summary; headcanons of arcane women with a sassy girlfriend.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, lest.

tags/warnings; fluff, maybe some crack?, possibly suggestive in some parts, s2 spoilers, reader is feminine/femme, can’t think of anything else

men and minors dni.

jinx;

✧.* jinx is right there with you- hello season two.

✧.* she never sees your attitude as a problem, frankly. she's usually the one to be told that she has an attitude problem despite never seeing anything wrong with it. why would she see it as a problem?

✧.* but if anyone else were to insinuate that you had an attitude problem, you need to tone it down, any of that, believe that jinx is jumping in and defending you. both with her words and physically.

✧.* "hey, i'd watch what you're saying," she'd bite, right before whipping out her pistol and pressing the cold barrel to some poor guy's neck. jinx isn't bothered by how his eyes widen, he immediately starts trembling or even his blubbered apologies. "she'll talk to you how she wants to talk to you. got that?"

✧.* seriously, though, i think jinx would consider it pretty fun to have a girlfriend just as, if not more sassy than she is. she’s been told to tone it down, to watch her mouth, but you’ve always understood because you’re the exact same way. and that makes it so much more fun.

✧.* sometimes you guys feed off each other, and jinx finds it one of her pastimes. she's always had a smart mouth, especially when it comes to her sister, randoms in zaun, and topsiders. could you imagine sassing them together? incredible.

✧.* "fancy topsider here- that top's outta season, you know?" you'd giggle, playfully elbowing jinx in the process. it'd earn a laugh from her, though a grimace from said topsider. "i know. you guys are all high and mighty but can't even follow your own rules? please. i could do better tying together yarn."

✧.* and then there's times where someone's getting under your skin, you say something witty back, and she finds herself falling for you all over again. something about a girl who isn't afraid to speak her mind and is confident.. it's so attractive to jinx.

✧.* the fact that you're so confident, you don't give a shit how others perceive you, it's just amazing to her! she loves that you're so sure of yourself and you're not afraid to ruffle some feathers if need be. you're just expressing yourself in the way that works best for you!

✧.* "jeez, toots, do you have any idea how hot that was?" she'd grin, slinging an arm around you and pulling you in close to her side, her lips landing on your cheek in a wet kiss. "all i did was stand up to some dickhead." "still, that was hot! agh, you should've seen yourself!"

✧.* jinx also really loves that you're not afraid of how she perceives you, even though you're in a relationship. jinx is used to people being afraid of her, willing to do anything they can to avoid crossing paths with her. they'll lower their voices around her and try to say things they know will keep them on their good side- but not you.

✧.* and if anything? she finds that intriguing. because she knows you'd never be rude to her or sass her necessarily, but the way you're so confident around her knowing her reputation has her falling deeper and deeper.

✧.* like.. you could just be talking to jinx about something so mundane, and the way you hold your chin up and the tone you use would make her want to jump you and kiss you senseless.

vi;

✧.* are you kidding?? vi would find it so, so attractive! don't know who here has heard of the stereotype of 'femmes with attitude problems' but that's basically what i got from this request, and my god does vi love it. you're not afraid to mouth someone off in a pretty skirt, and that does something to her!

✧.* you could be talking off someone who's annoying you, your tone one that people would usually reprimand all while holding your chin up high, and it would leave vi feeling weak.

✧.* would she want you to be like that to her? depends on the context, usually not- behind closed doors after hours, sure. but gods, just seeing you with your brows furrowed, tossing your hair and crossing your arms while mouthing someone off is just incredible to vi.

✧.* she doesn’t see it as a problem the way she knows others might. while vi sees how it could be a problem, with the way you get yourself into situations with respected figures, she still thinks it’s a good thing.

✧.* vi loves that you’re confident. loves that you’re sure of yourself, and you don’t care what others think of you. she’s confident in her own ways as well- the brawl, the strength. the way she’s built herself out of seemingly nothing. but it’s different when it comes to you.

✧.* vi isn't exactly shy, but she's the more quiet and calm of you. and she likes to have that balance- the one who stays out of the way for the most part, and the one who isn't afraid to cause a stir. the confident one. you bring out each other's strengths and compliment each other.

✧.* “and then, i told him his mother was probably so disappointed when she’d seen how he turned out! and all he had to tell me was to watch my tone. can you believe it?” you’d ask, scoffing with your arms crossed over your chest. “no,” vi would shrug, though she’s honestly too awestruck to form meaningful sentences. “but you handled him well, if that’s all he had to say.”

✧.* vi makes sure to reign you in sometimes though- not because she thinks your attitude is a problem, but because she knows others might and she doesn't want to see things escalate to a dangerous point. it's all out of concern for your safety :(

✧.* "hey, you probably shouldn't be using that tone with her-" "why not?" you'd protest, furrowing your brows. "because she could send people to whoop your ass in minutes. you're right, but she'll just be offended. please."

✧.* she'll never voice her admiration for your demeanor and attitude necessarily, but she has a sneaking suspicion that you already know. it's in the way that she can only stare at you while you're being sassy, the way she's flushed when you're next to her walking like you own the damn city. you may not actually own the city, but you've got that exact hold over vi's heart.

mel;

✧.* i feel like she'd be a bit taken aback at first, usually people are very careful with how they speak to mel. she's one of piltover's most influential figures if not the most influential, a councilor. so seeing your confidence and the fact that you don't really care about making a good impression on her, it surprises mel.

✧.* but that surprise turns into intrigue rather quickly. she's never seen anyone quite like you, and it's interesting. that air about you is something she grows to admire over time, because it's something she's never had.

✧.* mel has to be very careful with what she says, both as a medarda and as a councilor. she has a reputation to keep, and public relations to preserve. so in a way, she admires you for being unafraid to speak your mind. for being unabashedly yourself. she sees something in you that she wishes she had.

✧.* but she isn't jealous! not at all. if anything, she just respects you a lot more for being able to do some of the things she could only dream of.

✧.* and trust me, there are times where she wishes she could tell someone off. wishes she could throw some smartass remark in their face, but she can't because of who she is- and you're more than happy to step in for her. she comes from a prestigious family, but you don't.

✧.* "darling, it's fine, really-" "no. they were messing with you, why would i just let that slide?"

✧.* "hey! you think just because you're a councilor, you can talk to her like that?" you'd scoff, placing your hands on your hips. pressing your glossed lips together in a scowl, while tugging your girlfriend close to you. daring him to challenge you. "and who are you?" "her girlfriend. who are you?"

✧.* while mel won't say anything after the fact beyond shaking her head with crossed arms, she really does appreciate you sticking up for her. she just warns you to not go too far, because it could reflect badly on the both of you in terms of press.

✧.* and seeing you be so confident, so sure of yourself, does inspire mel a good amount. she's always had problems with her perception of herself, having grown up with a mother like hers. finding out that she was a mage didn't help any either, and she's felt lost. but seeing you so secure in yourself, not giving a damn what others think, it makes her think that maybe she could be like that, too.

✧.* not exactly like you, no. you both are your own people, but that's the beauty of your partnership. two people from different walks of life, with different attitudes, who compliment each other. who love each other.

✧.* "and then, i walked off! because who the hell am i to let someone waste my precious time?" you'd scoff, tossing your hair over your shoulder in that dramatic way you often do. all the while, mel is just staring- her hand rested in her chin. "you're awfully cute, do you know that?" and you'd chuckle, placing a light kiss to her cheek. "i do, but it's always nice to hear it from you."

sevika;

✧.* yeah she's smitten. i think at first, sevika might try to act as if she's annoyed by your behavior, but truly, it's attractive to her. your confidence and demeanor is like a magnetic pull.

✧.* sevika is also confident and unafraid, but she's gruff. she keeps to herself, she's more rough around the edges, and she's not nearly as expressive as you are. so it's familiar to her, but your approach is new.

✧.* she doesn't know exactly what to make of you. one of the first times she'd spoken to you out of turn was to let you know- "you're... different. somethin' about you, i've never seen it before. huh."

✧.* though after more time spent with you (though reluctant at first) she grows to accept and even admire your attitude. sevika's never been the most friendly or warm person, but part of her rough demeanor and harsh words are a survival tactic. but for you it comes naturally- your sass and rough words are just a part of who you are.

✧.* and after even more time, i think she'd come to appreciate it. maybe even find it funny. seeing the look on people's faces when some dressed-up girl with her hands on her hips starts mouthing off is pure gold to sevika. they'd underestimated you, and you had no problem putting them in their place.

✧.* there's times you just get fed up, you're not being listened to by someone and it's frustrating. they underestimate you, maybe because you're not as traditionally aggressive as the rest of zaun's folks, maybe because of your appearance. either way, it gets under your skin. "hey! i'm talkin' here, in case you forgot," you'd scoff, snapping in front of the person's face. sevika watches from the sidelines, and she'll step in if she needs to. but she also knows you can handle yourself just fine.

✧.* or there's times where sevika's brought you along to the casino with her. you're sat next to her along with a group of guys from the industry- some old acquaintances, colleagues who had left the world of crime, the like. you're not exactly participating, but you know what's going on. sevika's got these guys in a trap, she always does. she's a damn good player.

✧.* until someone decides he's done with her skills and moves, slamming his deck of cards down on the table. "fuck this, 'vika. you've gotta be cheating, there's no way-" "that she's winning? maybe you just suck at this! ever thought of that, huh?"

✧.* sevika's trying so damn hard to bite back a laugh, but a little chortle does escape her. "the fuck are you laughing at?!" he'd ask, his jaw open in an expression of shock. offense that you'd dare talk to him like that. "you heard the girl."

✧.* the two of you balance each other out that way. the roughened woman on the front lines, who takes no bullshit and fights like no tomorrow- with the headstrong, sassy woman. the one with a pretty face, yet a sharp tongue.

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn might be a bit jealous at first. she's got a lot of thoughts, and she's a very opinionated person. she comes from a long line of influential figures, and her role is an important one to the people of piltover. but it's precisely those things that make it so she has to watch what she says. caitlyn can't say exactly what she wants to or means, because she has a reputation to keep and she can't afford to burn any bridges.

✧.* but it's nothing personal, of course, and with getting to know you better that jealousy turns to admiration. she's happy that you're able to advocate for yourself in that way, and that you have some of the freedom she doesn't.

✧.* and her seeing a pretty girl mouth someone off and put her foot down? seeing you know exactly what you're saying, what you're worth, and how to express yourself? yeah caitlyn doesn't have a chance.

✧.* with the amount of opinions caitlyn has and things she wants to say, the thinks that it's good you're outspoken, good that you're 'sassy.' she understands that others may see it as a problem, but she's never gotten that perspective herself. the way she sees it- more power to you.

✧.* "don't hold back," she'd tell you. "if you've got something to say, say it, damn it. it's only too much for people who can't take it."

✧.* the two of you become rather attuned to one another, and it's like you can tell what cait is thinking and vice versa. if caitlyn won't say it, you sure as hell will.

✧.* you'd be observing while at a gathering with your girlfriend, an event with some of the most influential figures in piltover in attendance. she's dressed to the nines, poised and proper in everything she does- though other guests are testing her patience.

✧.* "hey, leave her alone," you'd say, idly twirling your empty glass in one hand. "dunno what you've got going on, but she's clearly not interested in your ideas. i bet she thought of the same thing when she was twelve."

✧.* though the person on the receiving end is flustered and trying to brush off what you've just said, caitlyn is enamored. it's mere seconds before the woman is pulling you into the next room, slamming her lips onto yours. "gods, that was great," she'd mutter between rushed kisses, her arms snaking around your waist. "the look on his face."

✧.* your confidence just makes you all the more attractive to cait. you've got a good head on your shoulders, and you know that. you're damn beautiful, and you know that. there's no beating around the bush, only your shameless expression. it's amazing.

✧.* as far as caitlyn is concerned? she's got nothing to worry about as long as she has you by her side. she knows how to command a room, and you know how to demand one. you're better together!

lest;

✧.* she might be a bit taken aback at first, though it isn't a matter of intimidation. you're just different to lest, and she's not sure exactly what to do with that. she's always been the more peaceful, more observant one. she sits back and does her job while stroking clients' egos and telling them what she knows will make them happy.

✧.* she's expressive, yes, but she doesn't have nearly as much bite as you do. her confidence is something more innate, she just is and doesn't have the same air as you do. but lest does come to appreciate your demeanor and fire for what it is. comes to love it, in fact.

✧.* she's just in awe. you're so beautiful, so confident, but you've got a mouth on you. she's heard what others have said: that you need to know your place, that your attitude is a problem, that you need to watch yourself before you get into some real trouble.

✧.* but to lest, these traits are only something that makes you all the more alluring. the way she puts it, it's as if you've put a spell on her with your words and body language alone. a spell she hopes never wears off.

✧.* she's so in love with the way you carry yourself, and how secure you are within yourself. you don't take shit, that's for sure- whether it's a "hey, i wasn't done talking," or "i know the idea's good, i've only been pushing it this whole time!" the way you know exactly who you are and what you're worth enraptures lest.

✧.* you could be out in public with her, someone casting sideways glances at you for some reason you can't quite figure out- though it doesn't exactly matter. her tail swishing side to side, wide eyes keeping watch of everything around her. though she notices you looking at someone for a bit longer than usual. "everything alright, dear?" she'd ask.

✧.* "yeah," you'd affirm, though you'd be clenching your fists at your side. "just looks like someone has a staring problem. a real bad one." she'd look over to the figure, someone who seemingly doesn't belong here anyways. "i'll take care of him. don't worry about it."

✧.* it's mere seconds before you're marching over to the guy, tapping your foot and telling him off- "do i have something on my face, huh?" "no, i-" "then stop staring!"

✧.* she also comes to learn that you'll step in for her if needed. you never cause any harm- you're sassy, not violent. but if a client is getting a little too demanding with her and you're by her side, lest can count on you to tell them they need to remember she can very easily drop them.

✧.* afterward, you're always quick to tug her close to you, pressing light kisses to her spotted cheeks. "you okay, love?" you'd ask, your voice uncharacteristically tender. "i'm okay, darling, really," she'd affirm. pressing closer to your touch. "but thank you. i probably wouldn't have done that myself."

[samnoahalov]

WHO CARES I'LL DO IT MYSELF!!

0- tbh idk 😅. It's been like.... seven-ish years since I last checked it soooo... next!

1-Currently de 16, be 17 soon (I feel so old alredy)

2-Oh.. well, idk how shoe sizes work for english-speakers(and it varies from contry to contry) so I'll put the number in MY contry :D 29/30.

3- No >:(

4- Nah, I don't like the taste of most of them. Also I'm very happy with juice, water, soda, etc...

5- No.

7- from 25 to 29. Though sometimes people mistake me for 30ish. (I can't blame them tho, I have the spirit of a old lady)

7- Nop.

8- Not really. May change mind one day, but for now, no.

9- Nope and

10- Nope.

11- Every friend is best friend for me. No hierarqy(?? Dunno, you get it)

12- Well I'm not married.

13- I'm aego, but still, none.

14- None. (I mean, if we're talking about anything besides sexual, someone toxis is literally the only type that can turn me off and make me wanna go away)

15- uuuhhhhhh... Megamind? Idk, one of Barbie's??? I DON'T KNOW OKAY I LOVE THEM ALL EQUALLY.

16- Listen to me, give me food(optional) and be kind and my heart is (platonicaly) yours.

17- My late dad.

18- Ugh.. that's hard... when I almost got killed count? I guess. I wouldn't call it "traumatic", but like, I was in a lot of fear so.

19- . . . . Uh.... I'm... sensitive to people's rejection??? Does that count? I mean, I'm also senstive to their affection but-.

20- My body- and I mean it not by gender or anything, neither for beauty stuff, my body just is all wrong and it gives me pain and sometimes I just hate it a lot.

21- uh, I guess my curiosity? I love learning and love to be able to see so much stuff.

22- either related to art, theology or science(biology). Voice actor, veterinarian, neurologist, etc...

23- Older sis(Distant, but not bad.), younger Half-sis(Distant too, but we chat sometimes about silly stuff), youngest half-sis(very close and very good).

24-Dad's dead, but he was a nice dad!, my mother is a narcissist so we don't get along.

25- Be with the person and have a good time. Maybe have something specially funny to remember about it would be nice :)

26- people that don't close the door properly when I ask them to.

27- Pretty and lovable, goofy and silly. Also have very dark eyes that just capture your soul, and a simple yet beautiful smile that signal to you "I Love you, please keep talking I can't barely think when I look at you" or "I hate you so much I wish to kill you but my nugget don't allow me to because we don't want to clean the body later"... so yeah. Also I'm talking about my girlfriend, but like, people are so pretty, wanna put them in a museon ✨

28- a face that scream hipocrisy and lies, filled with the marks of her sucess in drowning her victims in self hate and depression. (That's mommy btw :>)

29- I was sick but didn't want them to feel worried because I'm always so fucked up...

30- Noises&Smells of regular people.

31- "luv u :)"

32- Angry and Sad. (Or derived)

33- Thanks. (With a weird-nice emoji)

34-Hair, clothes, eyes and nails.

(I also like earrings and other acessories :D, they're nice)

35- Hair, some type of beards, clothes, eyes and nails.

36- In a calm place, not cold for at least 3 seasons and that let me see greeeny green of plants.

37- My voice... I think? I mean, I like my voice and all, but sometimes I just get the wrong tone at the wrong time in conversation so-

38- Farmer and Writer 😅 (I also once wished to be a Biologist)

39-Mint with chocolate chips! :)

40- Myself? I don't wish to be anyone other than myself.

41- In a very comfy bed.

42- Rice.

43- sorry, no sexual attraction. But I think the prettiest person I can think of is..........ugh...wait, I CAN do this! Just- uh... gimme some time...... my sister! Is the prettiest I can think of right now 🤔

44- If a cat is raised with another animal it will not see it(or it's especies I don't remember) as "something else" but rather think of it as a cat... I think I may be wrong, I don't remember exacly and neither were I get this from. But I guess it counts!

nosy anons let's go

0: Height

1: Age

2: Shoe size

3: Do you smoke?

4: Do you drink?

5: Do you take drugs?

6: Age you get mistaken for

7: Have tattoos?

8: Want any tattoos?

9: Got any piercings?

10: Want any piercings?

11: Best friend?

12: Relationship status

13: Biggest turn ons

14: Biggest turn offs

15: Favorite movie

16: I’ll love you if…

17: Someone you miss

18: Most traumatic experience

19: A fact about your personality

20: What I hate most about myself

21: What I love most about myself

22: What I want to be when I get older

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)

24: My relationship with my parent(s)

25: My idea of a perfect date

26: My biggest pet peeves

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school

31: What my last text message says

32: What words upset me the most

33: What words make me feel the best about myself

34: What I find attractive in women

35: What I find attractive in men

36: Where I would like to live

37: One of my insecurities

38: My childhood career choice

39: My favorite ice cream flavor

40: Who I wish I could be

41: Where I want to be right now

42: The last thing I ate

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately

44: A random fact about anything

[gulicore]

۶ৎ bf!hamzah headcanons [sfw & nsfw]

A/N: very quick and badly written, just wanted to post something small until i finish the hamzah fic

SFW

- hamzah is very shy when you first start dating since you had been friends for some time before he asked you out.

- loves physical affection but gets flustered. he loves holding hands and cuddling but gets super shy about initiating it.

- blushes when you compliment him. he doesn’t know how to handle it and just kind of mumbles a “thanks” while avoiding eye contact.

- he secretly collects little things that remind him of you—like ticket stubs, notes, or even pressed flowers.

- get jealous but tries to hide it. If someone else flirts with you, he’ll just quietly wrap an arm around your waist, his ears a little red.

- late-night deep talks. he’s not much of a talker during the day, but once it’s late and quiet, he opens up about his dreams and worries, stroking your hair on the couch with a blunt in his fingers.

- he definitely spoils you. he has the money for it after all. even if you don’t like him spending so much money on you, he’s gonna keep doing it because he loves you.

- loves seeing you in his clothes. he’ll act nonchalant, but internally, he loves it when he sees you wearing his hoodie or shirt.

- he starts including you in the videos more often, mainly to play the sims 4, and the fans love your relationship.

- he always mentions you in his podcast at the most random times.

- when time passes, and he gets more comfortable, he’s more physical with you. his hands are always on your thighs and waist, and he loves kissing your neck.

NSFW

- when you’re lounging together, he’ll tug you onto his lap without a word, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck.

- “i want you”

- he’s definitely a munch. he loves the way you squirm under his grip when he eats your soaking pussy and his fingers pump in and out of you.

- you love riding his thighs. when he’s focused on work, editing videos on his computer, being too busy to touch you, you whine in his ear, begging him to give you some attention.

- “so pathetic, getting off on my thigh, can’t fucking wait for me to finish working, hm?”

- your panties pulled to the side, a wet spot forming on his shorts as you grind your clit on his thigh.

- when it comes to sex, he takes his time with you. he teases you and makes you wait for him to fuck you.

- unless you’re both so horny that you can’t keep your hands off of eachother.

- he’s always the dominant one, but he won’t admit that he likes it when you’re in charge sometimes.

- he likes being rough, bossing you around and praising you as he fucks your tight hole.

- “fuck, you’re takin me so well, baby”

- you always make him hard in the worst places.

- having to leave martin and mandy’s place earlier so he can fuck you, because you moved a little too much when sitting on his lap in the living room.

- when he’s too tired, he prefers cowgirl. he loves watching you bounce on his dick, sweat on your face, hair messy, his thumb rubbing lazily on your clit as you do all the work for him.

- he cums everywhere on you. he loves messing you up with his liquid. On your face, tits, stomach, and especially inside you, watching it leak out of you.

[astars-things]

“why are we cuddling on the floor” with luke please 🫶🫶🫶

Drunken Cuddles

You blinked, your vision slightly blurry as you registered the warmth wrapped around you. Your head was resting on something firm yet comfortable, and there was an arm draped lazily over your waist. Your body was tangled with someone else's—Luke.

“Why are we cuddling on the floor?” Luke's voice was groggy and confused, his face half-buried in your shoulder.

You barely had time to process his question before another voice cut in. “Because you two got too drunk,” Jack said, arms crossed as he stared down at the two of you with a mix of amusement and judgment.

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to recall how you ended up like this. The last thing you remembered was you and Luke deciding it would be a great idea to have a little drinking competition. Well, more like you challenging Luke, and him—being the competitive guy he was—accepting without hesitation.

“I don’t feel drunk,” Luke mumbled, tightening his hold on you and nuzzling into your neck.

Jack snorted. “Yeah? Tell that to the fact that you guys are literally spooning on my living room floor like two love-drunk idiots.”

You peeked up at him, blinking slowly. “Well, the couch looked uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t even try the couch!” Jack shot back, exasperated.

You and Luke exchanged glances before bursting into giggles, the alcohol still making everything feel funnier than it actually was.

Jack sighed dramatically. “Unbelievable. I leave you two alone for one night, and this happens.”

“We’re not hurting anyone,” Luke reasoned, his voice muffled as he rested his head back against your chest. “Just vibing.”

Jack groaned. “You’re not ‘vibing.’ You’re passed-out drunk on the floor of my apartment. Do you know how ridiculous you look?”

You grinned up at him. “Nope. But I bet we look cute.”

Jack gave you a deadpan look before pulling out his phone. “Oh, don’t worry. I already took pictures. Plenty of them.”

Luke groaned, attempting to swat weakly in Jack’s direction but failing miserably. “Delete them.”

Jack laughed. “Not a chance, buddy. These are getting saved for blackmail purposes.”

You pouted. “Jack, that’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Jack shot back. “Now, do you two plan on getting off my floor anytime soon?”

Luke hummed thoughtfully, hugging you even tighter. “Mmm. Nope. Floor is nice. Y/N is warm.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so whipped.”

You laughed, but instead of arguing, you only snuggled further into Luke’s embrace. He was warm and comfortable, and your fuzzy brain decided that you had no desire to move.

Jack huffed. “You guys are impossible.”

“Love you too, Jack,” you mumbled sleepily.

Jack groaned. “That’s it. I’m stepping over you. Don’t be surprised if I ‘accidentally’ kick one of you.”

You and Luke barely reacted, just letting out sleepy giggles as Jack muttered to himself about how annoying you two were.

As you started drifting off again, Luke squeezed your hand. “Best drunk decision ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “Definitely.”

Jack, from across the room, groaned. “I hate both of you.”

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: How Will Your future spouse express jealousy

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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── .✦ PILE I

OHHHH this pile is defination of “I’m jealous, but I will NEVER admit it.” Your future spouse is doing CRAZY STUFF to keep their jealousy under control, but you will feel it. Oh, you WILL feel it.

BABY. This is a long-game kind of love. A soulmate kind of bond. And listen, when someone sees you as their person, their one-and-only, their forever, there is no way in HELL they’re just sitting back while some random tries to get cute with you. i see that your people pile number 1, they don’t react right away. Oh no, no, no. They marinate in that jealousy in their mind. The 7 of Pentacles tells me they watch, observe, process before making a move. Like, imagine someone getting a little too friendly with you at a party. Your future spouse, Sitting there, giving a polite but stone-cold stare, studying every move of that person. They’re literally taking mental notes: Did you laugh a little too hard at that joke? Did you lean in slightly? Are they standing too close? But instead of acting on impulse, they sit there, pretending they’re totally fine (they are NOT fine). When i look at 2 of cups illustration, i feel like, they realy enjoy your company, like A LOT, and when someone else invades this space, they hate that with all their heart. 

 OH MY GOD THIS IS SO FUNNY. This is that passive-aggressive, sulking, “I’m not mad, I just think it’s funny how…” behavior. They are so in their jealousy, but will they admit it? Absolutely not. Instead, they suddenly lose interest in whatever’s happening. They’re like, “Oh, you’re talking to that person? Wow. That’s so great for you. Anyway, I’ll just be over here…..” They might even act a little distant, maybe even hit you with the classic “It’s nothing, I’m fine” while literally radiating “I am NOT fine” energy. this person is not about to lose their cool in front of you Instead, they suddenly start acting very serious, very focused on something else. They’ll be like, “Oh, I have an email to answer,” or “I need to check something on my phone”. I get the naive energy from your future spouse, like very youthful and maybe little immature because they want you to ONLY themselves. AND THEN. THE JUDGEMENT CARD. THIS IS THE CLIMAX. This is when they snap back into reality and realize, Oh wait. I’m literally in a relationship with them. They love me. What am I doing? This is where they have that internal wake-up call. They’ll come back to you, realigned, refocused, remembering that you’re their soulmate (2 of Cups energy, baby!!). And THEN, instead of being petty, they’ll drop some casual reassurance-seeking comment like, “So… you seemed to be having fun with them, huh?”—AKA making sure or you to say they had nothing to worry about.

But overall, ill definitely say that They aren’t the type to lash out in jealousy, but you WILL notice the change. The silence, the avoidance, the fake distraction tactics. It’s subtle but LOUD. But at the end of the day? The Judgment card seals the deal—they always come back to their senses, realizing that duh, you’re theirs and they’re yours. And the second you reassure them? BOOM. They’re back to their normal, confident self. These people would give their everything just to be in your company. Very sulky baby energy ngl. They’re not explosive, but they are silently suffering. And bestie, if you ever call them out on it? OH BOY. Expect a very defensive “What? I wasn’t jealous. That’s ridiculous.” … Sure, babe. Sure.

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── .✦ PILE II

Alright, so the first thing I’m catching here is contrast—we’ve got the King of Cups and Temperance trying so hard to play it cool, acting all mature, controlled, and balanced. Then we have The Devil, and that too right in the middle of the spread. The sentence i would immedtly say here is, your future spouse is going to be OBSESSED WITH YOU. It’s the internal battle of “I’m unbothered” vs. “I will die if I see you entertaining someone else.” they try to move past jealousy logically—like, “It’s fine, I trust them”—but The Devil says, “But what if they find someone better?” . And then BAM, Two of Cups swoops in and reminds them that you two are soulmates, and there’s no competition—but oh boy, they still feel it. THIS person gets so confused when it comes to you i can clearly see that by the mixed enrgies from the spread, they are hit with SOO MANY emotions all at once but one theme is prominent, they are SUPERRRRR obsessed with you. 

This is giving “jealous but won’t let it show” energy which is just like pile 1 but the energy here is more obsessed type, cause pile 1 was more on the cuter and naive side. Your FS is the type to mask their jealousy under cool composure. They are emotionally intelligent, self-restraint,. If someone flirts with you in front of them, they will not cause a scene will make things very obvious. Whenever they would see someone getting wayyy to close to you they are hit with the thought “ i need to rescue my person,” They will not act out immediately—but best believe they’ll remember it. And later? they’ll try to rationalize their emotions, convince themselves to let it go—but the Two of Cups suggests that deep down, they’ll need reassurance from you. Not that they don’t trust you, but rather, their feelings run deep and they just want to be reminded that you’re theirs.

The Devil is the obsessive thoughts creeping in at night, when they’re alone, replaying a moment over and over like, “Were they actually flirting? Was my FS enjoying it??” This isn’t toxic jealousy—it’s more of that “I don’t want to lose what’s mine” energy. I would say their super obsessive side is balanced by the presence of two of cups here so reagrless of anything, the’ll be the biggest shield of your relationship. You two have such a strong connection that even when jealousy creeps in, they ultimately trust your bond enough to not tuen into insecurity. But ohhh, they’ll find a way to remind you that you’re theirs—subtle, territorial gestures, low-key possessiveness in the most elegant way possible. These people are VERY CONDFIDENT. Expect things like a hand on your waist, pulling you closer mid-conversation, a little smirk when someone’s trying (and failing) to flirt with you. Casual dominance, bestie. (we all love that) 

The energy of this pile was super sexy ngl. good for my booktok girlies. 

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── .✦ PILE III

As soon as i looked at the spread the immediate thought hit me was, your future spouse is going to treat you like ROYALTY. So, picture this: Your future spouse? They’re so put together, they’ve got their life in check, they exude this natural confidence (like, they’re used to being the main character, okay?), and they don’t just casually do jealousy.no. this is a very secure energy. If they feel it, they feel it deep in their bones. It’s not dramatic, but it’s intensely present—not loud, but undeniable. The thing is, it’s not even about insecurity; it's about you being so precious to them that even the thought of someone else getting too close? Yeah, no, they’re not having it.

See, the Empress and the King of Wands together? That’s fire and devotion. You are the ultimate prize, the softest yet most powerful presence in their life, and they know it. And because they know it, they also know your worth, which means they see the way others see you too. Oh, and trust me—others see you. The way you glow? The way you hold yourself? The way you make even the most casual of interactions feel special? Yeah, your future spouse notices when someone starts acting just a little too friendly. And they don’t like it. The moment you get into a relationship with them, youre going to have the biggest glow up. 

This is where things get fun. So when they are jealous, They might not immediately lash out, but there’s definitely a shift—their words get a little sharper, they start inserting themselves into conversations they weren’t in before, and if they’re the more composed type, you’ll notice they suddenly have a lot to say about whoever is making them feel some type of way. But they’re so smooth with it. They’re not obvious. It’s like they play it off as if they’re just making an observation or a lighthearted joke, but there’s an edge to it. A warning. And if the other person doesn’t get the memo? Oh, honey. They will. Your person isn’t impulsive with their jealousy; they’re strategic about it. They’re the type to let people dig their own graves before stepping in. They’ll watch, wait, assess—is this just harmless interaction, or is someone really pushing it? And when they do step in? It’s game over. They’re asserting their presence, effortlessly, dominantly. It’s all in the control. They’ll make the other person feel like they’ve already lost before they even realized they were in a competition.

But bestie, the real magic? It’s in the aftermath. Because once you’re alone? OHHH. This is when their softness creeps in. The Page of Cups peeks through in the smallest ways—they won’t outright admit they were jealous (I mean, duh, pride), but suddenly they’re extra affectionate, extra attentive. And the cutest part? Deep down, they know they have nothing to worry about. You’re theirs, and they’re yours, and that’s not changing. This is such a power duo because we have the empress as well as king of cups in the spread. But bestie, the way they still can’t help but get a little possessive? ADORABLE. They’re not the type to get insecure, but they are the type to make sure that everyone—including you—knows exactly where they stand. They’re the King of Wands, after all. They own their throne, and they protect what’s theirs.

They don’t control—you’re free to do whatever you want—but ohhh, they will make sure you NEVER forget who you belong to. 😌🔥

And honestly That’s hot.

Now tell me, I need to know what divine force blessed you with this person. 💀💀

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[spicypomegrana2]

I'm finding that fun

Comfort characters? Difficult I'll say, George, he makes giggle. And now that I'm in Love and Deepspace Caleb sure is in there now, hehe

What is a lighter or matches?? Is that fire? I don't smoke

No, it's too cold but when it gets really hot it's open at night, reluctantly tho, I hate my noisy neighbors.

What's cryptyd? Is it supposed to mean a fantastic animal? Well, if that's the case, I need a dragon in my life.

Blue, though I could argue is grey when I'm not under the sun

What? Don't look at me!!

Brrr, I hate scrunchies, I tried once, never again, definitely hair-ties

I have 2 water bottles right now, I usually have 3 tho

Eww I hate coffee, too bitter >w<

Do I get the money tho? If not, I'm not interested

I draw and pet my cats (I swear giving love to them is a sport!!)

Cleaning day!

It don't remember but it must be a while it's 00:46AM now and my stomach growls

Depends, it smells good but other times it smells like shit

Yes!! I have three big cats, I treasure my babies >:3

No.

Nearsighted, my vision is ass

Something called Head & Shoulders anti-dandruff shampoo & conditioner, it's great

Yes if I'm not sleeping yet (great chances are that I already am)

Wtf a pop?? I'll take that soda thank u

My rabbit plushie, I have owned it since the day I was born, it hasn't left my side yet

You need to be more precise on that one, dear

Step outside, regret, kind of like the bite, stay in the cold

I'll try looking at the stars then pass out and just sleep (on the roof)

Lotion!! My skin is dry

World donimati- *car crash*

My bracelet tells me I got 10 hours of sleep I feel like it was 6 tho

Yes! I hate people and they stink

Burning hot, if I'm not crimson like a shrimp it's not a good shower

I had two bowls of cereal earlier but now I have nothing on my desk

Music grounded? I don't do that

Yes, I have a thick black one with a big lizard in the middle, that's my favorite!!

Hmm... i don't know

0-o Mercy by Madame Monsieur

CET

What does that mean?

I don't, I move out often in my past, It's hard for me to keep contact with far-distant relationships

Chamomile

I should but only use it indoors rather than outdoors, it doesn't help my crunchy lips at all

Yes, some chocolate biscuits!

Sideways??? I hate coffee. (I drink make my tea in a Starbucks cup and drink it)

Chrome. Don't look at me!! it's Ao3 okay!

Love it but not Asian level that's insane

The bee that stank my foot, I don't want slippers I'll walk barefoot despite the dangers because I need to!!

What did you say? Oh look a butterfly

No? What's a holiday film?

It was I meme of text messages of someone rolling over someone else... It was pretty funny okay

I was 10 drank the first cup below my hands, pass out. Pretty funny experience I must say

I don't understand you

No.

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[muwapsturniolo]

Cupids choke hold જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 C. Sturniolo

"dad, i think i finally found the one."

⟢Fluff really, Chris just being in love with bun

@bernardsbendystraws for credit

The sun was setting over the city of angels, and Chris was entranced by his own angel.

Bunny.

He stared down at his lock screen, smiling softly to himself as the picture brought warmth to his chest. His admiration was interrupted by his phone ringing, a name popping up that he hadn't spoken to in a while. He answers the call and puts it on speaker, instantly feeling comforted by the voice on the other end.

"Hey son, where have you been?"

The question makes him feel guilty. He was always a mama's boy despite his harsh exterior, his mother being his rock and safe place, and she loved it. The mother and son duo knew to a degree it wasn't fair, but they were each other's favorites, and everyone else knew it too.

"Hey Ma," he says softly, inhaling a bit of the joint before tapping the excess ashes off. "I know it's been a minute since we last spoke...I have so much to tell you."

He begins to feel nervous like he is about to be judged. He knew it was an irrational fear, his mother would never judge him, even when he did something wrong.

"It's going to sound like a bad joke, but Ma...I fell in love, I found the real thing. I got a girlfriend and she's amazing."

A bit of shuffling is heard on the other end before she responds to him, "A girlfriend? Is the same one that- No." Chris instantly cuts her off, not even wanting to bring up the last girl. She was never his girlfriend. He would never say this to his mother, but she was nothing more than a quick fuck to him.

"No no, this...This is someone new and she's the best thing to happen to me. I probably sound like an old person, but Cupids got me in a chokehold. You know me, I've always been scared to let people in, especially girls, but she made it so easy that I threw the towel down. My white flag is waving, and I'm okay with that."

He couldn't help himself, instantly going on a long ramble about the girl he found himself to love so much.

"-I mean, she cooks me pancakes in the morning, the blueberry ones that you make me when I'm back home. God, and I'm starting to think you two use the same ingredients."

"And what are those ingredients?"

He smiles dopily to himself, looking down at his beat-up Nike slides,

"Love."

Mary-Lou finds herself smiling. She had been worried when her boys finally left the nest they call a home that they wouldn't be ok, but it seemed as if they were doing just fine, finding the right people to have in their lives and keeping their heads straight.

"Tell me more." She urges gently, not wanting to scare the boy into retreating his feelings, but also wanting to know more about the special girl who managed to capture her youngest attention and heart.

"When my stomach hurts, she always gets me Alka seltzers. When I'm sick she goes above and beyond to make sure I'm ok. If that ain't love then don't know what love is, it's like we're married."

"Well, it is through sickness and health, they say during the vows."

He chuckles to himself and continues, "We have this secret handshake, we came up with it on our fourth date when I learned she didn't know how to dapp people up. We're always doing it before she goes to practice and it just brings me so much comfort. Oh, and she even gets along with Matt and Nick! You know how close we are, and I don't think I could date someone who doesn't respect them. She even supports the YouTube shi- I mean stuff we do! I know I'm not that much involved, but she's pushed me to participate more, to be something more."

"...You sound in love..." Mary-Lou states softly, trying to hold in her excitement.

Chris chuckles to himself, nodding along despite Mary Lou not being able to see him.

"I am...I really am. If I had to pick her or the sun, Ma, I'm telling you I'd be a nocturnal son of a gun."

She laughs at his statement, soon urging him to send her a picture of the girl.

"Oh Chris, she's so pretty! And the way you look at her, it's the same way your dad looks at me. You have to bring her to Boston soon!"

So he did.

His chest was ready to burst with excitement and joy seeing the girl he loves so much getting along with his parents and older brother. She fit right in, doing crossword puzzles with his mom, playing Just Dance with Justin, and even going fishing with his dad.

It was late into the night, Chris sitting outside on the back porch, smoking with a glass of water in his hand. Bunny had fallen asleep on the couch with Trevor, both she and the dog snuggled up into a ball and sleeping peacefully. He looks up hearing the door open, smiling gently when he sees his dad.

Jimmy takes a seat in the empty chair next to Chris, settling down and letting out a deep breath. They sit in silence for a minute before Jimmy speaks.

"Tell me about her."

Chris immediately dives in, never missing an opportunity to talk about his girl.

"Dad, I think I finally found the one, the one that makes me a better person and will make you proud of me. She's like Mom, she's the best... I know there have been other girls; you've heard about them, but she's different, she's on a whole different plane. Just the way she says my name, it makes me want to give her the world, hell, even the universe."

Jimmy listens intently, watching how he talks with such passion about the girl sleeping on the couch.

"I love it when she calls me. I feel like an elementary school boy getting excited about his crush talking to him on the playground. She even has her own ringtone so I know its her calling! We used to sit on the phone for hours, doing nothing but breathing most of the time."

"She's a good girl, a real catch. I can see the love you two have for each other, I saw it when we picked you up from the airport. You two are in love and I hope it lasts."

Chris takes a sip of his water, staring out into the backyard with a smile and eyes full of love.

"I know it will, I'm not letting her get away."

He creeps back into the house softly, approaching the living room and chuckling to himself when he sees both Bun and Trev drooling in their sleep.

He goes to pick her up but stops when Justin enters the living room.

"You went soft on me," Justin voices playfully, gently pushing Chris's shoulder. Chris rubs the back of his neck, sitting down on the arm of the couch and placing a hand on the sleeping girl's shoulder.

"She's the reason, she makes it so easy to be...I don't even know. She could make the most annoying, oldest, senile man bite his tongue and talk calmly. Her eyes are so soft and comforting, it's like the sunrise on a summer day, I could stare into them for hours."

Justin watches with a knowing smile on his face. He can tell from how animated Chris gets when talking about her, that he will continue to do so forever. He's in love, and Justin knows the two will end up happily married, and he can't wait.

" She's a complete ten, the most gorgeous and graceful girl I've ever seen. She has me hooked, and I'm not complaining. She has the best laugh ever, and she laughs at all my jokes, even my dumb ones that usually piss Nick and Matt off. Like I told Dad, before we moved in with each other, we'd sit on the phone for hours not saying a word sometimes. We just wanted to be around each other and it was comforting. "

He looks down at the girl once more, toying with her curly strands gently in an attempt to not disturb her slumber.

"It may be too soon, but when I think about my future, when I think about what I want it to look like, it all surrounds her. I want to be the best version of me for her, and I want her to be happy...Call it dumb, call it luck, call it love, or whatever, but everywhere I go and do, I keep a picture of her in my wallet. I want to remember what I'm working for."

Justin walks over and plants his hand on Chris's shoulder, "I can't wait to call her my sister-in-law."

With that, Justin walks out of the living room, leaving the couple and Trevor alone. Chris is gentle when he lifts the girl off the couch, one of his hands caressing her back while the other holds her bottom. He walks up the stairs and into his room, laying her down gently on the bed.

He strips out of his hoodie, kicking off his slides, and crawling into bed, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

Despite her being asleep, he proceeds to whisper softly.

"I love you so much, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

She opens her eyes softly, smiling at him in a sleepy haze.

"I love you more."

[oceantornadoo]

butcher!simon riley x bartender f!reader, a lil dark/dubcon smut

the one where simon never joins up, staying a butcher’s apprentice as he watches the people from his school grow up and leave. classmates gone, his father fucked off to somewhere, his mother and brother needing taking care of. work, eat, sleep, and of course, fuck.

everyone needs some stress relief. he’s running the shop now, the blood of animals practically burnt into his skin. got his own apprentice, a scrawny kid who can barely lift a knife, reminding him too much of tommy. that thought is how he ends up in a new pub on a different side of town and finds, of all things, you.

the bartender in a shitty hole in the wall. cursing at motorbikers and throwing out men who get to touchy, snaking their hands up your arm when you give them drinks. there’s a similar glint in your eye, callous and hardened but determined, having to make something of yourself to protect the ones you love. he sits at the corner table and he waits. like all kindred spirits, you find each other eventually.

he gets you off on your ten minute smoke break.

your chest smothered against the alley wall, jeans and panties ripped down in one go as his thick fingers find their way around. “ya let every man tha’ walks into yer bar do this?” simon grunts into your ear, his hand forceful on your jaw. you smirk, as much as you can with two fingers plunging in and out of your seeping hole. “only the ones that look sad enough. i like pity fucks.” for that comment, he stops his movement, thumb finding that tight little wrong hole.

“say no.” he presses in, barely, and you’re already scrambling out of his grip, wondering what the hell you got yourself into when you mentioned you were going for a smoke. “fuck you.” he grins, canines glinting under streetlights. “tha’s wha’ i’m tryin’ to do, sweet’art.” you arch your spine, trying to tempt him back to paying attention to your clit. “i’ve been working too hard all night to not come from this, simon. get back to work.” you spit out his name like there’s dirt in your mouth. he pulls out his fingers, ignoring your whine, and flips you around, bare ass against the wall.

“suck.” you do, obediently, bobbing your head up and down like you would his cock. your mouth opens with a pop as he peels his fingers out and right back into your pretty cunt. this time, his thumb finds your clit, small circles that are your undoing. your forehead falls to his shoulder, uncharacteristically intimate between two strangers, and you both watch his fingers move as you get closer and closer to the edge. he pinches your clit roughly and that’s the end of it, pleasure bursting through your veins as you come, mouth open against his clothed collarbone. “fuck.”

he yanks the waistband of your pants up and you nearly combust at the rough drag of your underwear against your sensitive cunt. he chuckles low when you jump, earning a glare as you step out of his grip. “i don’t have time to return the favor,” you warn, already two minutes over your allotted break. he shrugs like he has no problem with it. “got nowhere else to be, bird.”

he sits on that corner bench until the bar closes at 2am. he sits some more when you do a quick mop, not offering to help or lift a finger. by the time you’re done counting the till, it’s nearly 3 in the morning. your feet ache, there’s sweat everywhere, and the vodka cran someone spilled down your spine is still sticky. you don’t have the heart to tell him this when he offers to drive you home, content to murmur quiet street directions from the passenger seat.

simon shadows you as you unlock your apartment door, only kicking off his boots when you glare at him. he’s there when you take off your makeup in the bathroom and doesn’t move when you pointedly say you’re taking a shower. “leave the curtain open.” he replies. you huff as you wait for the water to warm up. “and who’s cleaning the water that’ll spill out?” he shrugs, and in anticipation of the steam, pulls off the black sweatshirt he’s wearing. his torso is a culmination of pale skin and healed scars and cigarette burns, tucked under a worn wife beater. too tired to argue, you strip and wash mechanically, leaving the curtain open. simon just watches, and although you can see the tent in his pants, doesn’t even touch his cock.

that changes when you get in bed. he strips down to his boxers and doesn’t let you explore, turning off the lamp before you can catalogue more. moonlight still glints through the blinds you need to fix, giving you a front show to how he gets to his knees in bed. you’re suddenly alert, afraid of the creature you dragged home.

simon doesn’t want to fuck you like this, so he tugs at the ratty shirt you’re wearing until he can see the pretty tits he saw in the shower. it quick, pulling down his boxers and tugging his cock dry until he spurts white stripes on your nipples, like a claiming. he strips off his wife beater and half-heartedly wipes you down before tugging the shirt back down. simon ignores your mouth, hanging half open, in favor of maneuvering you on top of his chest, your face in his neck.

“simon, i-“

“sleep, bird. gotta be up early ‘nough to fuck ya an’ get to work.”

you close your mouth and he feels you grind your jaw against his shoulder. simon squeezes your ass, almost hard enough to hurt, before leaving his hand there. a warning.

“sleep.”

after that, you’re never able to shake him off.

-

my masterlist here

[abbadoabbadon]

This is actually so fucking wild to see someone else talking about this, because this exact same thing happened to me.

I was diagnosed with BPD when I was only 15. I knew the psychiatrist for a total of 3 sessions, 45 minutes altogether, and she diagnosed me with BPD. And her diagnosing me with BPD was also her telling my mother how everything I do is for attention and me manipulating everyone else around me.

When she told me (with my mom sitting next to me) that I was nothing more than a manipulative little girl for self harming and that my mother was going through enough and I was making it worse, I tried getting up to walk out of the session. She yelled at me to sit back down and not have a "borderline attack" on her.

My mother bought the exact book you mentioned: Walking on Eggshells. She read the book and tried to force me to read it, as if it was something I needed to change about myself and feel ashamed of.

Relationships were exactly how you described. I asked for honesty and communication and clarification because of my lack of communication skills and picking up on social cues and sarcasm. I'm met with being told I'm just trying to seek validation and I'm too much and overwhelming and manipulative.

My ex turned the entire household against me where I lived once when I was 23-24, because of a false fucking diagnosis of BPD. He told everyone how abusive and manipulative and controlling I was, strictly because of a BPD diagnosis that didn't even apply to me any more. My most recent ex also gaslit me and told me I was just having "BPD splits" on him when I would try to talk to him about how badly he was abusing me, and even how he had raped me, where I just wanted to talk about his actions and make him realize how he'd hurt me.

My meltdowns were also called manipulative and attention seeking, and I was called crazy and abusive, when really, I was overstimulated with everything around me being too much and being treated like a fucking animal by everyone I loved.

I do not fit the criteria for BPD. There are some things I relate to from BPD, so I do question if, hey, maybe I do have it? but those are also autism traits that I fit 100% of. Anything that is not an autism trait that is also a "BPD trait", I do not fit.

Those with BPD, I have your back. I will fight for you, you have a safe place on my blog. Because I know how you're treated, as I was treated the same fucking way every day because of the misdiagnosis.

There was a post I saw recently about BPD being "destigmatized" and "pretty girl disorder" now, and that couldn't be farther from the truth.

You're seen, you're valid, you're real, and it's not your fault.

As a late diagnosed autist I will say one of the most damaging but transformative experiences I've ever had was being misdiagnosed with BPD.

Everyday my heart goes out to people with BPD.

The amount of stigma and silencing they face is astonishing and sickening.

I took DBT for years. Therapists use to turn me away because of my diagnosis.

I would be having full blown autistic meltdowns, crying for help literally - but because I was labeled as BPD ANY time I cried I was treated as manipulative and unstable.

As if the only reason I could be crying was if I was out to trick someone.

95% of the books out there with Borderline in the title are named shit like 'How to get away from a person with Borderline', 'How to stop walking on eggshells (with a person who has BPD)'

I was never allowed to feel true pain or panic or need.

That was 'attention seeking behavior', not me asking for help when a disability was literally inhibiting my ability to process emotions.

There were dozens of times where I had a full meltdown and was either threatened with institutionalization or told I was doing it for attention.

My failing relationships weren't due to a communication issue, or the inability to read social cues. No, because I was labeled borderline, my unstable relationships were my fault. Me beggong nuerotypicals to just be honest and blunt with what they meant was me pestering them for validation.

Borderline patients can't win.

And the funny thing is - I asked my therapist about autism. I told her I thought I was on the spectrum.

BPD is WILDLY misdiagnosed with those with autism and I had many clear signs.

Instead - she told me 'If you were autistic we wouldn't be able to have this conversation'. She made me go through a list of autistic traits made clearly for children, citing how I didn't fit each one.

And then she told me that me identifying with the autism community was the BPD making me search for identity to be accepted - and that I wasn't autistic, just desperate to fit in somewhere.

I didn't get diagnosed for another ten years. For ten years I avoided the autism community - feeling as if I were just a broken person who wanted to steal from people who 'really needed it'.

Because of my providers - I began to doubt my identity MORE, not less.

Ten years of thinking I was borderline and being emotionally neglected and demonized by a system meant to help me.

To this day, I still don't trust neurotypicals. Not fully.

I know I'm not borderline now - but my heart aches for them. Not for the usual stuff. But for the stigma. And the asshole doctors. And the dismissiveness and threatening and the idea of institutionalization hanging over their head.

I love Borderline people. I always will. I'm not Borderline but if you are I love you and I'm sorry.

You're not a bad person. You're not a therapists worst nightmare, you are a human with valid feelings and fears.

Borderline people I'm sorry.

[ggidolsmuts]

Yuqi's Boy Toy's Ball Toy - (G)I-dle Yuqi

"God I hate big dicks!"

"I hope you haven't looked in the mirror recently then," you reply, matching Yuqi's snark with yours as she comes barging into your apartment.

"Fuck you." She helps herself to a beer in your fridge.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, teach guys that wanting to smash is figurative, not literal."

"I'll send out a meeting invite, anything else?"

"No, I just came to steal your beer."

"And I get nothing out of it today?"

"Blame my one night stand last night. If you wanted some you should've answered yesterday."

"I know a drunk booty call when I see one, I'm surprised he got anything done with you."

"Well he definitely did, ugh it's still sore." You sigh and give in.

"There's an ice pack in the freezer and hot packs on the shelf, use whichever you think helps."

"Mwah, you're the best." Yuqi pecks you in thanks. She grabs a hot pack and flops onto the couch, placing it over her abdomen. "Ooh that's good. All you need is some pads, condoms, and plan B, and I'm never leaving this place." 

"I am not your personal pharmacy. How long are you going to be here?"

"Why? Somewhere you have to be, or someone coming over that you have to be in? Spill it!"

"No, I have errands to run, and I don't need you bringing bad fuck number 2 here."

"I won't, I'll just be on your computer going through your search history."

"You're not staying here while I'm out, you can either come with me to the supermarket, or you can leave when I leave and come back later."

"Will you text me when you come back dear?" Yuqi simpers.

"No."

"Fine, guess I'm coming with you then."

You regret your decision, as by the end of the shopping trip, you've bought more for Yuqi than for yourself.

"Thank you so very much," she says as she places her snacks on the shelf.

"You're welcome, daily interest rate is 50%."

"For?"

"The snacks."

"You mean you weren't treating me to them?"

"What have you done to deserve me treating you?" Yuqi grins—the foreplay begins.

"Want to get yourself off today?" She hovers over you at your desk, a hand on your thigh. 

"You say that like I can't get myself off without you." You smirk and bring up Yuqi's Instagram deliberately, as if looking up her photos for "material". 

"Oh but I get five star reviews. You said, and I quote, 'Damn you make me cum so hard Yuqi.'"

"Did I now?"

"Mmhmm, look it up." You look up her pictures instead, finding one of her biting on her top, revealing the bra underneath. 

"This is a nice one, makes sense too. Only way to shut you up is with something in your mouth."

"Well, if you think that's enough for you, sure. I didn't realize you were scared about finishing too fast."

"I was just trying to spare your sore pussy. I remember you saying you're out of commission, something about hating big dicks?"

"Yeah but, it's okay, I guess I could go one round today, you're not that big. Plus I like your dick," Yuqi whispers in your ear.

"I didn't know we're playing two truths and a lie." You bring a hand to her leg, feeling your way up her thigh. "Well then, your tits look huge in this photo, I too am down for a round, and, just to be considerate, I can make you cum in one thrust, so you won't feel too sore." 

Yuqi instantly gets the lie, and she snarls, digging her nails into your thigh. "Big words for a small man, care to back them up?"

"Small tits for a loudmouth, your back is definitely not sore." You grab at her chest, and she smacks you away. Yuqi swings her leg across your lap, straddling you.

"Fuck you, put up or shut up." Her glare is venomous, but you both knew it to be impotent—she loved to spice things up, a little gamesmanship in the proceedings.

"Yeah? Want me to get some teeth in the game?" You lift Yuqi's top off her head, pushing up her bra and getting some teeth in her game, gently tugging on a nipple with your teeth.

"Yeah, no way you can get me to cum in one shot. If you fail, I get the snacks for free, and you pay for my pills, I know you won't be able to stop yourself from cumming in me."

"If you do cum, what do I get?"

"What do you want?"

"Introduce me to your idol friends, you get boring after a while."

"Boring? I'll show you boring!" Yuqi pulls off your shirt before kissing you furiously, your teeth knocking into hers. You remain unperturbed.

"Do we have a deal?"

"I give you the number of one of my idol friends."

"No, you ask around, see who is looking for something fun, and let them know about the good times you have with me."

"All of them?"

"Oh? Are they all looking for some fun? The more the merrier."

"You get one."

"I get to choose then."

"No, I go through your search history and pick one for you."

"All you'll see in my search history is 'women bustier than Yuqi', it won't be very helpful." Yuqi's nails graze your neck as you carry her to the bedroom.

"You really know how to push my buttons, asshole."

"Only because it works." You dip your hands beneath the front of her shorts, finding her wet already—Yuqi loves the back and forth, the challenge you put up against her, willing to trigger her to get her angry and excited. Sex with Yuqi borders on hate sex, specifically sex that both of you would hate to give up.

"Fine, you get to choose, but no promises, you know how flighty we idols are."

"Oh I definitely experienced it today, I wasn't expecting my weekend to be so noisy."

"You're welcome," Yuqi sneers, kicking off her clothes and watching you take off yours. You disappear into the bathroom for a moment, and come out with a small ball. "What's that?"

"A little toy I've been thinking to try." You bring it immediately between her thighs.

"Whoa, where do you think you're putting it?"

"Relax, it's squishy, I can take it out easily, your pussy's not that tight." You hand it to her, and Yuqi looks it over carefully before giving it back to you.

"Doesn't seem like a vibrator."

"It's not, just a little squishy ball. I'll just push it in a little bit, basically, just the tip."

"Pfft fine." You pinch the ball in two fingers and lightly push it just past her lips—not enough for it to be moved further in by her muscles, just deep enough to not fall out.

"Okay there?"

"Yeah I guess, feels odd but whatever."

"Good." You get on top of her, kissing her while your hands moved to her modest chest. For all your badmouthing of her tits, you did like playing with them, hearing how she reacted to you. "Such nice little tits."

"Ahh..." Yuqi knows that you know she's actually really sensitive there. "Get down there and suck them."

"Aye aye missy." You kiss your way down, all around her soft peaches, leaving hickeys on the side of them, places where there's no risk of showing on stage.

"You know the coordis give me looks when they see them right?"

"Before or after you flaunt what good sex we have to them?"

"It's okay, I'm going to tell them how much my pussy hurts after you fail today."

"We'll see about that." You suck on her little dime pieces, leaving them slick and shiny. Yuqi's hands are everywhere—on your shoulders, in your hair, on your neck. You hate it but allow yourself to suffer her scratches—with her long idol nails, you definitely end up with more marks than she does usually. Imperiously you pin her wrists above her head, and with your free hand you firmly tug her hair back, exposing her delicious pale neck to you. You lean in close, kissing a known weak spot of hers. You know she doesn't want marks there, but that doesn't stop you from showing it love, a quick flick of your tongue over her skin before you dry it off with a gentle breath.

"Trying to delay the inevitable are you?" Yuqi sputters as you kiss along her jaw. "Just hurry up and fail and we can just do things normally."

"Looks like someone's needy, I'm trying to delay the inevitable for you." You smile and hover over her, your cock resting against her mound.

"Yeah right, I have other..." Yuqi drifts off, and you watch the arousal hit her, her pupils dilating, a flush going to her cheeks. "W-What the fuck?" She looks down her body, at your cock. "I, mm, I need it! What— The toy, did you drug me?"

"Of course not, let me take it out, you'll see." Just the dip of your fingers into her is enough to make Yuqi moan loudly. You hold the squishy ball to her face, and when you gently squeeze it, a few drops land on her chest—her juices. With the ball inside her, you've been effectively giving Yuqi "just the tip" this whole time, teasing her along with everything else you did to her. The ball soaked up her juices as she got wet, swelling in size, parting her walls just that little bit more. The whole time she never noticed, too caught up by your foreplay, when the true edging was happening between her legs.

Now though Yuqi immediately feels what her pussy has been crying out for—dick, and yours is the closest one. Having been held open for so long, Yuqi's pussy needs a cock to split her open, expecting the "tip" to finally come through and fuck her.

"You, god, fucker, need you!" she gasps in her husky voice, legs trying to wrap around your hips, making sure you can't get away.

"Are you sure? I'm afraid I'll hurt you if I put it in right now."

"No you, hnngh dumbass!" With the ball gone both you and Yuqi can see how wet she is, the inside of her thighs beginning to turn shiny.

"Or what if you cum right away?

"I won't, I'm not gonna—" Yuqi hiccups as you brush your tip against her entrance, and she can't help but buck her hips, her pussy trying to grab your tip already.

"Yeah? I should tease you a little further then." You grab the ball again, leaving a trail of her own juices as you bring it down her body.

"No! I, mmmmm!" Yuqi whines as you nudge her lips with your cock, as if making sure she's as wide open as possible. "I don't care, just put it in already!"

"So demanding Yuqi, fine!" You toss the ball away and wrap your arms under her shoulders, bracing yourself around her small frame. With your hips drawn back you're looking at Yuqi, her eyes flickering between your face and your cock. "You are going to cum." Her eyes glare at you, trying to rise to the challenge, but as soon as your tip touches her pussy again she wavers, her eyelids fluttering.

You pull her down by the shoulders as you slam up and forward into her.

"Hnngh oh my god!" Poor Yuqi never stood a chance. Her eyes roll into her skull before the rest of her body follows—her head tilts back, then her chest rises, then her flat tummy. Yuqi's dead silent, but you know she's cumming hard, cumming from the very first thrust. Her walls clench around you in a wild rhythm, and she digs her nails into your arms. You start to fuck her through the waves of pleasure, feeling her walls flutter, being rubbed against back and forth as you saw in and out of her viciously. With your hold on her shoulders each thrust compresses the already small Yuqi even further, making sure you're hitting as deep as you can on every punishing strike into her.

"Guhh, hnnghk!" Yuqi's gurgling, choking like you're skullfucking her through her mouth, but no, you're just pounding the air out of her. Your hips smash into hers, the shockwave of force and pleasure rippling through her tight body and going straight to her head. Yuqi's going to be in pain after this, and she's going to love it. Yuqi's screaming like nails on a chalkboard, except the chalkboard is your arms, and she's leaving deep red lines all down your sides. Yuqi can't tell if she's experiencing multiple orgasms, or one massive explosion of pleasure in her pussy. It's the first time she's ever cum this fast or this hard, and her brain can't even function well enough to even scream.

"I win," you snarl into her ear, and you give Yuqi a different kind of explosion in her womb, blasting her depths with your seed. You stop moving, hilting yourself in her, and you think Yuqi blacks out for a second, her limbs going limp for a brief moment before she regains her hold on you. The actual act took all of a minute or two, yet both of you are spent like you've been fucking for hours.

"Holy shit," Yuqi whispers, trembling under you. "I've never cum like that, what the fuck did you do?"

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Cheater, that ball is a fucking cheat code."

"You let me use it, you could've said no."

"I— Ugh damn you." Yuqi pulls you in for a fierce kiss, making her displeasure known by biting on your lip hard enough to draw a little blood—having sex with Yuqi really is a battle, leaving both of you bloodied and bruised. "Fine, you win."

You slip out of her eventually, and Yuqi curses you further.

"Damn, I guess you really can't help but cum in me huh? Now I gotta make a trip to the pharmacy."

"No need, I have the pills here."

"I thought you said you didn't have them!"

"No, I said I wasn't your personal pharmacy, that's all. You don't get them when someone finishes in you, you get them when I cum in you." Yuqi blushes slightly but fires back.

"Possessive prick."

"Says the lady scratching up a storm on my arms, might as well brand me with 'Property of Yuqi'." She gasps at the lines she wrote on you.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't realize it was that bad."

"It's fine, are you good?" You pass her a glass of water and the pills.

"Yeah, I'm going to be extra sore tomorrow, but at least you made it worth it."

"Good." You nuzzle Yuqi. "Thanks for coming over."

"Playboy," she chides you. You wonder if she's this way with her other fuckbuddies, you hope not. "Just let me use your bathroom and I'll—" Yuqi tries to push herself off the bed, but finds that her arms and legs are still weak.

"Fucked you that good huh?"

"Shut up." You bring her some tissues to at least wipe the mess between her legs, and eventually she's recovered enough to wobble her way to the bathroom. After a quick shower she's put together enough to head out, and you're patched up enough to see out the rest of your day.

"Pick up next time I call you, it's all your fault last night was so bad for me!" Yuqi's being illogical of course, but that's the only retort she can muster after you won today's bet so thoroughly.

"Sure sure, at least I made today better. Don't forget, I get to choose."

"Yeah yeah, god I feel like a pimp." Your phone dings as Yuqi sends you a list of her idol contacts.

"What, no pics?" 

Yuqi flips you the middle finger before slamming the door in a huff.

"Just go look them up yourself, at least it'll diversify your browsing history!"

A/N: So I had two ideas for Yuqi, but I didn't feel like writing two Yuqi's so quickly, so I picked the one I think she fit best with, and I'll save that other idea for someone else maybe related to Yuqi (teased here as her idol friend). Might call this "Six Degrees of Song Yuqi" or I might write the second idea for Yuqi anyways, who knows. Anyways the pic is very hot too, girl has her fun lol. Thanks for reading!

[dxckgrxsonx]

#9 with Jason Todd PLEASE I beg of u

Title: Payback, Backfired. Pairing: Jason Todd x (F) Reader, (Mentions of ExBF!Dick Grayson x (F) Reader). Words: 1.4k Warnings: SMUT 18+ Plot: Prompt 9 from this list. Revenge Sex. (Readers ex is Dick Grayson.) Notes: i literally had so much fun writing this. also hi my beautiful darling @sio-ina-bottle thank you sm for requesting this prompt ily <3

****

“Tell me.” Jason starts the second he sinks the tip of his cock into you, mouth twisted into a fucked up grin, all sharp and triumphant; like getting into your pants grants him some sort of award, maybe something akin to bragging rights. “Is he better than me?”

Your answer circles around a snarl, fury swelling thick and suffocating between your teeth, “Shut the fuck up. The last thing I want to be thinking about is my ex whilst you’re fucking me!”

Hindsight knocks at the edges of your skull, perspective swinging on its head to offer a different look at what you’ve gotten yourself into, because decisions birthed in the face of spite and heartbreak don’t typically have happy endings.

If you’re honest with yourself though, things have limits.

However, a compelling argument to it is this: you’re long past caring.

You’re hurting–more than you ever thought capable–and more than three-quarters of you wants him to hurt too.

You think of the breakup all over again and your stomach rolls, eyes burning, Dick Grayson was supposed to be the one you built a future with; the one you looked at and never turned away from. But he didn’t seem to have much trouble walking away from a relationship spanning almost a year.

“Hm.” Jason almost purrs, bottoming out, stretching your pussy wider than it’s ever been before because he’s thick and so heavy. “Your ex must have been something special if you’re getting all teary on me.”

His hand reaches up, palm covering your cheek so he can thumb away the wetness from your eyes. Under different circumstances the action would make you melt–would probably have you squeezing at his cock like you’re coming–but Dick would do the same thing when your emotions bubbled over and you can’t stand it.

There’s also the look on Jason’s face, the twitch in his mouth, the glimmer in his eyes. It’s almost like he’s conquered something; capitalised on someone else’s failure and taken it as his own.

“Be quiet.” Your voice shakes until you tighten your jaw to settle it. “And take your fucking hand off my face before I chew it off.”

Jason’s hand grabs at your jaw as he shifts, pulling out and sinking back in so your eyes roll to the back of your skull. He laughs, free hand sliding around the back of your knee to stretch you open wider, and you can’t quite silence your whimper as the head of his cock rubs so sweetly inside you.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth.” He hisses, pressing his fingers into your cheek to force open your mouth, the callouses on the tip of his pointer finger digs into your skin and you kick up your hips in frustration. “I take it he didn’t treat you like this very often, huh? You’re clearly not used to anything like this.”

The rhythm Jason sets is easy, a slick glide of his cock splitting you open until the empty space Dick left is filled with pleasure and your own weeping cunt. Something sparks up the length of your spine when he rubs at your clit and you groan, body shaking apart.

“You have no idea of the things he did to me.” Your words are slightly slurred from the way Jason shoves his fingers into your cheek, and the discomfort from it overlaps with the wet smack of his hips. “You’d be appalled.”

In your relationship, Dick was many things to you, a soft touch, a problem solver, clever beyond anything you’d ever seen before. But there were moments in your sex life where he was mean; when he guided you beyond anything you thought possible and made you hurt and beg and cry.

And the truth of it is: you absolutely loved it.

The world tips when Jason flips you over, and instead of being flat on your back–his well muscled body bullying you into the mattress–you’re manhandled onto your knees, face down in the pillows. His cock parts your folds, the tip pushing from your entrance to your clit and back again.

He angles his hips and pushes into you in one long stroke.

You moan and spasm around him.

“How about here?” He asks, pausing to hold himself deep in your pussy as his thumb rubs over your asshole. “Did he ever fuck you here?”

The noise you make is unhinged, a sob stuck between fury and ecstasy. Of course he’s fucked you there, you want to snap, worked you open using his fingers and tongue until you cried so softly for him to please, please fuck your ass.

But you can’t speak. Not when Jason fucks you, sinks his thumb juuust past that tight ring of muscle and praises you for taking it so well.

“Stop talking about him.” You try to say, every part of you shaking and fucked open. “The whole point of fucking you is to stop thinking of him.”

Jason stops talking eventually, which should have been a relief. But rather than putting energy into taunting reactions out of you. He fucks you through orgasm after orgasm until you splinter and crack, calling Jason’s name, overstimulated and vibrating like a live-wire.

His resounding laugh in response holds weight, holds something you’re not privy to.

If you had any sense about you, you would almost think he knows exactly who your ex is, despite the fact you’ve not once mentioned his name. Hell. The whole point of you taking Jason home was out of revenge because maybe, just maybe, Dick would find out and hurt just as much as you.

****

There’s noise coming from the living room.

Sheets off, you shuffle around your bedroom, Jason still sleeping in your bed. He’s completely naked, fabric pooling at his waist. The expanse of his chest is littered with scars, some thin and faded, others thick and pink with raised tissue. Oddly, it makes him more attractive, but you’re not sure if it’s because Dick had scars too.

You should know, after all, you’d pressed your lips against every single one of them.

The closest article of clothing is his t-shirt and you slip it over your head, the hem settling comfortably against the tops of your thighs. Underwear comes next, but the pair you find are torn, seams ripped apart under Jason’s hands. You ignore the arousal still clinging to the gusset of the fabric, the wetness soaked through when you flirted with Jason.

Frustration flares. He’s such a prick.

Finding your pyjama pants you slip them on and move towards the door. Glancing back at Jason you hesitate for a handful of seconds before exhaling and continuing forwards. He can get himself up if things go to shit.

Coming into the living room you freeze.

“What are you doing here?”

Dick stops at the sound of your voice, head snapping towards you so fast you take a half-step back. There’s a box on the coffee table, half filled with his things, in his hand is one of his hoodies–all black with a brilliant blue stripe down the sleeves–the very first one of his you ever wore.

“Getting my things.” Dick answers eventually. He sounds tired. You want to cry. “Figured I’d be able to get them before you woke up.”

You hum, not trusting your voice.

You still haven’t moved.

He continues, “I think there's some more stuff in the bedroom if you don’t mind.” It’s not a question, it’s a heads up of where he’ll be going next and you bristle.

“You can’t go in there right now.”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, attention shifting to your slightly ajar bedroom door, “Why not.” He looks at you again, bright blue eyes lingering on the shirt you’re wearing. “That’s not mine.” Everything about his voice is unrecognisable and all the hair along your arms prick up.

Time stutters and stalls when Jason breaks the threshold, still shirtless, jeans hung obscenely low at his hips. The grin on his face is downright mocking, there isn’t a single thing on his face that isn’t coated in near cruelty.

You feel caught up in the middle of something you had no idea about. Jason was a quick, easy fuck. Someone you didn't know, someone you didn't think had any real connection to Dick; someone you could have used to make him jealous.

But right now, looking at the outright horror on Dick's face, and remembering the way Jason looked at you last night, you think he might have played you both.

“What’s up, Dickie.” Jason says, tone scarily even. He slings an arm over your shoulders and stares Dick in the eye, “You don’t mind me fucking your ex do you?”

****

[lokishha]

So uh I wrote something. Check it out.

TW: Death, hatred, strong language.

Till death do us part

"Help!"

I hated him. I hated him with every fibre of my being. Yet here I was, screaming at the top of my lungs. I didn't mean it, but I had to make it sound real.

"Please someone help!" Another echo of my voice rang through the forest. It was supposed to be a simple weekend hike with my dad, but it soon turned into a nightmare. Or more like, a dream come true.

He was quite young to be a father when I was born, 20ish, but he tried his best to be a good father. Until the first hit came, a tight smack, and my face was all red. It was my fifth birthday. He immediately apologised, and took me out for ice cream. "I'm sorry, honey." But it didn't stop there. Today marked 15 years of this abuse, and only my dad knew how much I hated ice cream and that nickname.

It was summer. We were standing on a cliff, it was beautiful. For a second, the thought of murder almost left my mind. But I had to finish the job. The wind picked up speed just as I pushed him. And I thought he was gone for good. No one would ever find out that I killed my own father.

Cut to 5 years later, I met someone at a bar. A handsome man, almost twice my age. But come on, I was all for daddy issues. We started talking and soon I found myself falling for him. He was the complete opposite of my dad in every way. It was just that, his eyes were familiar. Every time I looked into his eyes I felt like a little girl. But I knew he would keep me safe.

Two years passed in a flash, and I found myself standing at the altar, about to marry the love of my life. We exchanged our chits, which almost felt like cheating as a kid in an exam. I knew what I had written. My biggest secret, my biggest sin. I wanted to know his. A man so kind, so generous, so loving. What could he possibly hide? Compared to him I was a monster.

He opened the little piece of paper that would decide whether or not he'd continue to love me like he always has. He read it and simply smiled and tossed it into the fire, just how he tossed away all my flaws and accepted me for who I am.

It was my turn now. I opened the little piece of paper with a smile. After all, how bad could it-

"I'm sorry, honey. 🍦"

Now I know where else I'd seen those eyes.

On your wedding day, you and your partner exchange pieces of paper containing each other’s biggest secret. You freeze for a moment after reading theirs, but in the end, cast it into the fire to be consumed by the flames along with theirs. ‘Til death do us part.’