#this is the drawer opener I spoke of

[sighthounds-and-sketches]

I made some sketches of the sighthound, but not the cat, and we have found much evidence that Pascal likes Pastels.

[missdynamighttt]

happy birthday to the love of my life, katsuki bakugo. hope he enjoys his gift for his easter birthday: his favorite little bunny.

it had started with a birthday plan. well—technically a birthday easter plan. the odds of katsuki bakugo’s birthday landing on easter sunday weren’t high, but fate had a sense of humor. and you? you had a sense of drama.

you’d already given him gifts for his birthday. his letter—handwritten, sealed with a kiss, full of sharp sarcasm wrapped around soft, sappy sentiment you’d never admit out loud.

he read it quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed, thumb brushing over your kiss mark at the bottom. his brows furrowed in that way they always did when he was feeling too much but didn’t want to show it.

“you’re such a damn brat,” he muttered, voice thick, eyes refusing to meet yours. “but… you write good shit.”

“don’t cry, tough guy.”

he didn’t look up, just folded the letter carefully—too carefully—and tucked it into his nightstand drawer like it was something fragile. precious.

“shut up,” he said, voice rough. “you’re lucky i like your dumb handwriting. even if it looks like a drunk squirrel tried to learn cursive and gave up halfway.”

“aww. that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“don’t push it.”

he reached out, grabbed the front of your shirt, and yanked you into a rough, lingering kiss that left no room for misinterpretation. when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“best fuckin’ letter i’ve ever gotten,” he murmured, low and soft like a secret.

a few small gifts were scattered on the dresser: limited edition all might merch, a new hoodie he’d been eyeing for a while (that he absolutely knew you were going to steal), and that spicy snack mix he always hoarded like a dragon with gold.

he stood there, arms crossed, doing his best to look unimpressed, but the way his ears turned a little red gave him away.

he eyed the merch first, holding the figure up with a raised brow. “…you been stalkin’ my browser history or somethin’?”

you grinned. “nah. just love you enough to pay attention.”

he shot you a look—equal parts flustered and fond. “tch. hoodie’s mine. you’re just gonna steal this in two days.”

“i give it one,” you said sweetly.

he looked at you, eyes soft but unreadable. “still wearin’ it anyway.” then he found the snack mix. “you didn’t eat any, right?”

you gasped, mock offended. “i would never.”

still, he leaned down and kissed your cheek before grabbing the snack mix and tearing it open immediately.

the cake? well, it was slightly lopsided, the frosting uneven, but it was made with love—and caramel with cinnamon. he didn’t say much when he ate it, just grunted, grabbed a fork, and took a second slice without a word.

you hovered awkwardly nearby. “so… good?”

he chewed slowly, gave you a deadpan look. “tastes like love and poor frosting skills.”

“rude.”

he grinned, leaned over, and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. “still the best fuckin’ cake i’ve had in years.”

“you say that every time.”

“yeah,” he said, mouth full. “and i fuckin’ mean it every time.”

now, though, it was time for the real present.

so when he walked into your shared bedroom after a long morning of birthday messages and half-assed hero paperwork, the last thing he expected was you, perched pretty on the bed.

pink bunny ears twitching with every little movement you made. a tight, pastel one-piece hugging your every curve. sheer stockings accentuating your thighs, and a fluffy little tail pinned to your lower back like a gift-wrapped tease.

katsuki stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he took you in.

you sat perched on the bed, legs crossed, every bit the picture of flirty confidence. your gaze was locked on his, unapologetic.

“happy birthday, katsuki,” you purred, lips curling into a sly smile.

his crimson eyes dragged over you slowly, deliberately, his tongue running over his teeth before he finally spoke. “the fuck is this?”

“what’s it look like, hm?” you stretched out, back arching just enough to show off your curves. “figured i’d... hop into something special for you.”

his jaw ticked. “you think you’re funny, huh?”

“a little,” you admitted, shifting onto your hands and knees, crawling toward him at the edge of the bed.

his eyes darkened as you closed the distance, your hands sliding up his chest when you reached for him, kneeling in front of him. “thought you’d like a cute little bunny to play with, birthday boy."

katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, grabbing your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.

“you know what happens to dumb little bunnies who tease too much?”

you swallowed, trying to keep your confidence, even as the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine. “they get spoiled rotten?”

“wrong. they get fucked.”

a thrill shot through you, heat pooling in your stomach as he crowded closer, his other hand slipping down to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“bet you thought you were bein’ cute, puttin’ this on. bet you thought i’d let you bounce around and tease me all night.”

you let out a breathless giggle. “bunnies do like to bounce…

his fingers trailed down your back, playing with the delicate ribbon lacing up your tail before giving it a sharp tug. you gasped, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.

“that so?” his lips brushed against your ear. “then let’s see how long you last when i really make you bounce.”

he took you in—your ridiculously boner-inducing ensemble, the way your chest rose and fell a little faster, the anticipation in your eyes. then, with slow precision, he sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.

"come here," he ordered, voice thick with authority.

you swallowed, your body already thrumming with heat as you climbed onto his lap. his hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking your skin through the sheer fabric of your stockings. he let you hover there, deliberately drawing out the moment, making you feel the power shift between you.

"go on," katsuki murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he guided your hips to settle against him. the heat of him pressed against you, even through the layers between you.

your breath hitched as he held you there, letting you feel just how hard he was, how much he wanted you. his grip was firm, unwavering, making it clear that he was in control even as he let you take the lead.

he shifted, leaning back to watch you straddling his lap. his hands slid down, gripping your hips, guiding you to grind against him—slow, deliberate, teasing. the heat between you was undeniable, the layers of fabric doing little to hide just how affected you both were.

you whimpered, trying to tug your bodysuit aside, reaching for the bulge pressing up against your core. but his hands stopped you, fingers curling around your wrist.

“uh-uh,” he hummed. “not yet. little bunnies gotta hump first.”

you whined softly, frustration bubbling to the surface as you squirmed in his lap. “katsuki, please—”

“please, what?” he cut you off, voice sharp, mocking. “please fuck you already?”

you nodded desperately, biting your lip.

he scoffed, his expression darkening as his hand shot up to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat.

“i said hump,” he growled. “that needy little cunt doesn’t get filled until you earn it.”

you tried to slow, to catch your breath, but his hands were relentless, grinding your hips against the hard line of his cock beneath you.

his fingers dig in as he helped you move. every time you tried to slow down, his hands tightened, forcing you to keep up, forcing you to take it.

you barely had time to catch your breath before katsuki pulled you forward, burying his face between your tits.

“fuck, you’re soft,” he groaned, tugging the fabric away before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking hard.

you gasped, back arching as heat shot straight between your legs. his teeth grazed your sensitive skin before his tongue soothed over it, his other hand coming up to knead your other breast.

you tried to keep moving, to keep bouncing, but between his hands gripping you and his mouth marking you up, your body was giving out, shaking from the overwhelming pleasure.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, hands tangling in his hair, tugging.

he growled against your skin, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips glistening. his smirk was feral, eyes burning with satisfaction.

“hm? thought you liked to bounce?” his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, a warning. “or do i gotta fuck you like the greedy little thing you are?”

you whimpered, hips bucking desperately along with a nod. he laughed, licking a stripe up your chest before capturing your nipple between his teeth again.

“that’s it,” he praised, voice strained. “knew you’d look so fuckin’ good like this.”

you sobbed, rolling your hips, desperate for more, and he grinned like he’d won. you weren’t sure how long he made you keep going, but by the time he finally took the reins, you knew you were fucked.

“aww, poor thing,” he cooed mockingly, pressing a hot kiss to your throat before nipping at your skin. “tired already? guess i better take over before my little bunny gets too worn out, huh?"

before you could respond, he shifted, one arm wrapping tight around your waist as the other yanked your bodysuit to the side, finally giving you what you’d been aching for.

the thick head of his cock pressed against your dripping entrance, teasing, pushing just enough to make your breath catch.

nails digging into his shoulders, your legs trembling as he eased inside—slow and torturous, filling you inch by inch until your walls clenched around him.

katsuki groaned through gritted teeth, holding you still for a second, letting the stretch overwhelm you. then his eyes flicked up to your face, and that familiar, dark grin curved his lips.

“you wanted to be a cute little bunny, huh?” katsuki grunted, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you as you bounced on his cock. “bunnies fuck like crazy, y’know that? they go at it all night long.”

you could barely respond, your moans breaking into gasps as he thrust up to meet you, driving deeper, harder, forcing you to take him to the hilt every time.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he taunted, voice thick with amusement. his fingers dug in as he guided you, making sure you didn’t slow down. “thought bunnies were supposed to be full of energy.”

you whined, gripping onto his shoulders for support, trying to keep up with the brutal pace he was setting.

each bounce forced his cock deeper, the obscene sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. you whimpered, legs shaking as he controlled your pace, refusing to let you fall back into lazy movements.

he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear. “put on the ears, shake your ass, act like a toy—and now you’re surprised i’m treatin’ you like one?”

you sobbed, clutching at him, body trembling from the overwhelming mix of pain, pleasure, and the pure, filthy thrill of being used exactly how you wanted.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he rasped, slamming up into you harder.

your moans were broken, breathless, every movement sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. your hands clutched at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as he thrust up to meet you, filling you so deep it made your head spin.

your head fell against his shoulder, body shuddering as pleasure built higher, hotter. his arms wrapped around you, keeping you flush against him as he took control, lifting you just to slam you back down, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.

every time your pace faltered, he’d lift his hips, thrusting up into you so deep it stole the breath from your lungs. a whimper slipped from your lips, fingers digging into his chest as you tried to keep up, but he wasn’t making it easy.

“what if i fill you up, huh? make sure this bunny knows her fuckin’ place?”

he suddenly slammed you down onto him, making you cry out, and he groaned low in his throat. your nails raked down his back as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, but he wasn’t letting up—not when you looked so fucked-out and desperate.

“gotta train you better,” he muttered against your skin, his smirk widening when you clenched around him. “bunnies are supposed to breed, aren’t they?”

you let out a broken moan, body shuddering, and he laughed breathlessly, one hand slipping down between your bodies to rub tight circles against your clit.

he was gripping your waist before flipping you in one fluid motion, pressing you down into the sheets. his breath was hot against your ear as he settled behind you, caging you in.

“aww, don’t tell me you’re tappin’ out already?” he cooed, tilting his head. “and here i was thinkin’ i’d finally get to see you breed like a proper bunny.”

heat shot through you at his words, making you clench around him, and katsuki groaned, his grip on you tightening.

“oh? you like that?” his grin widened. “shit, maybe you are just a dumb little bunny in heat.”

you gasped, nails dragging down his back, and his hips suddenly snapping up to meet yours, driving deeper, harder—sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

katsuki didn’t give you a second to breathe. toes curling against the sheets, your vision blurring as he fucked into you harder. the slap of skin echoed through the room, punctuated by your gasps and his low, hungry groans.

“that needy little pussy’s fuckin’ leaking,” he growled, dragging his fingers through your slick before pressing them against your clit in tight, punishing circles. “soaked through that slutty little costume, too.”

you choked on another moan, face buried in his chest as your body shuddered, everything building—tight, unbearable, right on the edge.

“gonna cum like a dumb bunny while i fuck you full? huh?” he taunted, pulling your head closer by the ears on your head and forcing your back to arch deeper.

“yes, yes, katsuki, please—” you sobbed.

“beg for it. tell me what you fuckin’ want.”

“i want you to—want you to cum inside, need it, need it so bad, katsu—”

“yeah?” his thrusts faltered for only a second, a low, wicked groan slipping from his throat. “wanna be bred, huh? wanna be my filthy little bunny full of cum?”

you cried out, so close it hurt. “yes! please—please, fill me up—”

his grip tightened on your hips as he slammed into you one final time, deep, brutal, until you screamed his name. your body convulsed, pleasure crashing through you as you clenched around him, falling apart.

“take it. every fuckin’ drop.”

katsuki growled low, and then he was spilling inside you, hot and thick, hips jerking with each pulse. he buried his cock twitching deep inside you as he spilled hot, thick spurts into your clenching walls.

you whimpered as you felt it, the heat of him flooding you, dripping out before he’d even pulled out.

katsuki didn’t let go right away. he held you there, impaled and filled, his breath ragged against your shoulder. he stayed pressed against your chest, panting, one hand stroking slowly down your side as the other cradled your hip with surprising gentleness.

“shit,” he muttered against your skin, lips brushing your shoulder as his breath slowed. “fuckin’ hell..”

you snorted, too tired to do more than flop your face into the sheets. “that what you wished for when you blew out the candles?”

he chuckled—an honest-to-god laugh rumbling from his chest as he finally eased out of you, warm stickiness following in the wake.

“didn’t know i could wish for somethin’ i already had.”

“wow. look at you. getting soft in your old age.”

“twenty-six is not old,” he grumbled, but the faint blush on his ears betrayed him.

you hummed teasingly. “sure, grandpa.”

katsuki shot you a warning look, but instead of snapping back, his hand came up to card through your hair, bunny ears askew and all, his fingers surprisingly gentle.

“so... did the costume make the top ten birthday presents list, or…?”

katsuki huffed out something between a laugh and a groan, finally pulling out of you slowly, both of you flinching a little at the oversensitivity.

you felt the mess between your thighs instantly—sticky and warm, dripping down your skin—and you shivered at the loss of him.

his hands never left your body as he shifted you gently onto your back, reaching for the nearby towel he’d tossed on the nightstand earlier—because of course he was prepared, even if he pretended not to be.

“top three,” he muttered, wiping you down carefully. “right after the cake and that dumbass letter that made me feel shit.”

you flopped onto your back with a dramatic sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. “didn’t think birthday boys had to do cleanup.”

he shot you a look as he gently dabbed between your thighs, taking his time, making sure you were comfortable. “birthday boy’s the one who ruined you, so yeah—he fuckin’ does.”

you smiled, soft and real this time. “you’re getting sappy in your old age.”

he tossed the towel aside and climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you, pulling you into his chest like it was instinct. “yeah, well, turns out its not too bad when i’ve got a stubborn, sexy weirdo wearin’ bunny ears for me.”

you laughed against his collarbone. “you’re lucky i love you.”

katsuki kissed the top of your head, nose brushing against your ear. “nah. i’m lucky you’re mine.”

“and i’m lucky you’re easy to distract with cake and tits. y’know, i was actually gonna jump out of a giant egg and yell ‘surprise!’ but i figured you’d actually murder me.”

“you’re not wrong,” he said, arm tightening around you. “and you look better in that stupid bunny suit anyway.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“say that again and you’re spendin’ next year’s birthday with a vibrator and a guilt trip.”

“worth it.”

he glared at you before he stripped you, hands moving with familiar precision as he pulled off the bunny ears, the one-piece, and the stockings that had barely survived his earlier onslaught.

without a word, he grabbed one of his old t-shirts and slid it over your head, the fabric swallowing you up, before he joined you under the blankets.

you felt his gaze on you, warm and intense, and you looked up at him, brow arched. “what?”

he stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening as he took in every detail of you—maybe still a little in awe, maybe still a little surprised at the way you fit against him. his fingers lightly brushed your hair away from your face.

"god, i love you. so fuckin’ much, baby.”

your heart did somersaults. but you nuzzled in closer to him.

“i love you too, old man.”

“tch. shut up and go to sleep,” he grumbled, brushing a kiss over your cheek.

but as you started to drift, wrapped in his warmth and the lingering high of everything, he murmured, barely audible:

“best fuckin’ birthday ever.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAN 💗💗 omgomg i apologize for the blogs i couldnt tag, blog name wouldnt come up for some reason😭😭 I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THO 😝😝 please consider this my 4k special lmao (its only fitting sinces it 4/20 and shi), instead breeding kink with katsuki is 5k special!! would like to thank this request (one of the few first requests i had when i started this account), hope this fulfilled your request somehow!! 💗💗

⋆˚࿔ tags ˚⋆ @kodzubaby @akiii143 @mindless-existence1 @dollyfetti @st4ntwic3 @skylermiller1 @sugarcubepop @jazzywazzy859 @jealousmartini @kksmush @2elusional @ch3rryjampi3 @happinessisabutterflie @thirstygorl @zennypiee @kiansss @dullcets @kirishimasboobs @jo8920 @vrtualghoulz @inlovewjay @grim-reapers-wife @just0jordyn @ettesxythia @quixtic @whorecityyy @izayanara @valeriannnnnn @hanako-0kun @lmaolmaolmao @raining4food

[misserabella]

sick love

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt2!!

synopsis;;

you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;; (let’s act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school

really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i don’t know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesn’t mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

@cafekitsune ‘s separators

Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,— and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them up— so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Spence!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Spencer?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencer’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Spence.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencer’s. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Spence…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Spencer…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Spencer…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Spencer, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled when once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Spence.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Spencer, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Spencer. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Spencer!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

-

i needed to.

[itgetzweird08]

“You shouldn’t be up this late”

Bakugo’s voice whispered, filling the silence in the dorm kitchen. He was right, and usually you weren’t. You valued your sleep, often being one of the first in the class to call it a night. But tonight was different. Your thoughts, your heart, were restless. Despite following your nighttime routine, which was curated specifically to help you wind down and rest, you still found yourself tossing and turning. Not even your ocean sounds could help you drift to sleep. Thats why when Bakugo spoke, you sighed heavily and let your shoulders droop.

“Yeah. I know.”

He took a few steps toward you, leaning against the countertop. “So what’s got you awake?” You shrugged at him, watching the water in the electric kettle begin to form small bubbles. “Dunno…just can’t sleep I guess.” You looked over to him, taking soft note of his tired eyes and disheveled hair. “And you? You aren’t usually awake at this time either.” He shrugged right back at you. “Dunno…can’t sleep I guess” he echoed your words, and it made you smile just a bit.

You both knew why the other was awake, or at least you both had some inkling. Between how the ambush attack played out and Midoriya running away, neither of you have had time to really process all of what has gone on. You haven’t had time to think about how your lives had been flipped one eighty. But since Midoriya was back safe and sound, and there was no real information on the League or their next move, everything was at a standstill. That meant your brain was finally coming up to speed on what had gone on recently…and it was overwhelming. It felt like your mind was in over drive, thinking so many thoughts at once that it was causing you to lose sleep.

“…There’s a lot of water in this kettle. Would you like some tea?” Bakugo didn’t answer, just walked over to the mug cabinet and grabbed both of your designated mugs. Yours had your hero insignia, and he had his. It was Nezu’s Christmas gift for all of the hero course students. Bakugo opened the tea drawer, grabbing you each a packet of sleepytime zen tea before walking back over to you. You worked in silence then, enjoying each other’s company as you made your own cups.

Your relationship with Bakugo was unique. You admired him, even when he was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the school year. You’ve enjoyed watching him grow and working beside him as a teammate. You were inspired by his tenacity and drive. You liked how smart and witty he was, and how he could be funny even when he didn’t realize it. It also didn’t hurt that he was actually pretty cute. And all of the same things went for you in his eyes. He admired your kindness and your courage. He was inspired by the way you had such a big heart but you were no push over, standing up to him when he got too rough with his words or during training. In his eyes, it was like you were one of the only people to give him a chance, getting to know him past his rough exterior. You two had gotten closer during the year, training and studying together sometimes. You began to sit next to him for lunch, stealing small pieces of chicken from his plate while he stole beef from yours. You were the only one with that privilege. Eventually, you became this unlabeled, unspoken thing. You didn’t have to confess your feelings because he knew, and you knew how he felt about you even if he’s never admitted it.

You softly sipped your tea, allowing the warm liquid to run down your throat and causing you to sigh. He stirred his own cup, watching the spoon go around and around. Technically, there was nothing else for you two to do in the kitchen. Technically, you could’ve parted ways right here and drank your own cups in your rooms. But you couldn’t bear to leave him. Deep down, you both didn’t want to be alone tonight.

“Bakugo?” He looked up as you said his name. “Could I sleep over in your room tonight? I don’t think I want to be alone”

All he did was scoff, pick up his mug and began walking towards the staircase. When he realized you weren’t following, he scowled and turned to look at you.

“Let’s go brat. I’m missing out on my beauty sleep”

Part two

—————

Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[urmum-lovesme]

I need more toxic!dad!rafe!!

more Toxic!Rafe as a dad. . . say less baby

Y/n's pregnancy would have been really rough because let’s be real- Rafe wasn’t some supportive, doting boyfriend holding her hand through morning sickness and late-night cravings. The stress of it all made the pregnancy physically tough, too. Rafe wasn’t gentle with her- emotionally or physically. Sure, he liked the idea of her being pregnant, but that didn’t mean he stopped arguing, didn’t mean he stopped grabbing her too hard when he was pissed. He’d justify it, tell her she was hormonal when she got upset, that she was just overreacting.

But let's talk about the first few months.

At first when Y/N found out she was pregnant she hid it, at least for a little while. She obviously wasn't sure what she was going to do yet. Y/N had been so careful, she never ever slipped up about her little secret at home, but one morning she did.

Her mom had gone upstairs to leave a package she'd ordered in her room but she noticed something she wasn’t supposed to. Y/N had been so sure she closed her bedside drawer, but in her rush in the morning, she must have left it cracked open. And when her mom went to push it shut, something caught her eye.

Two little pink lines staring back at her.

Y/N wasn’t home when her mom found it. She’d gone to 'escape' for a bit, to pretend her life wasn’t completely falling apart at the seams. But when she came back, as soon as she opened the door, she felt the tension. Her mom was sitting at the kitchen table, the pregnancy test right there in front of her, like a bomb waiting to go off.

And then there was her dad.

He was standing by the counter, arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth might crack. Her mom’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a knife.

"Is this your's Y/N?"

She froze at the question. She felt like she was sinking, the air being sucked out of her lungs.

"Mom—"

"Don’t" 

Her father's voice snapped out cutting her off. Her head jerked toward him at the stern tone, her heart hammering. He barked, slamming his hand down on the counter in irritation as he spoke.

"How the hell could you be so fucking stupid?" 

Y/N flinched at the sudden action, she knew they wouldn't be happy but she certainly wasn't expecting this.

"I- Dad, please—"

"No, don’t ‘Dad, please’ me!" His voice was booming, his face red with anger. "You’re still a kid, Y/N! And now you’re gonna have a baby? You've ruined your life!"

Y/N could feel the lump in her throat growing, so rapidly she felt as though she was going to throw up. Her mom let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes. 

"How far along are you?"

"I don’t know—maybe… two months?"

Y/N swallowed hard at the silence that came after. Her mom let out a choked sound, shaking her head as she covered her mouth with her hand.

"With Rafe? Sweetheart, please tell me you’re joking."

Y/N didn’t respond. But her silence was enough, and the tears pooling in her eye's proved to her parents all they needed to know. Her dad laughed. A dry, humorless sound.

"Of course, you couldn’t have picked someone worse, could you?"

"Dad, stop—"

"No, you stop! You think this is some fucking fairytale? That he’s gonna be some good little boyfriend and help raise this kid?"

He scoffed shaking his head at his daughter. She felt like a little kid again, being scolded on the playground for running away too far out of his sight. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from breaking out into sobs. Her father pointed an angry finger at her as he spoke.

"He’s a junkie, Y/N. A loser. A fucking Cameron. And you—” he shook his head, his voice full of disbelief, "You just threw your entire life away for him."

Tears welled in her eyes, her whole body trembling, "I didn’t plan for this!"

"Then why didn’t you get rid of it?"

Y/N’s breath caught at his harsh words, "Jesus, Dad!"

"You had options, Y/N," he pressed, tone sharp. "And instead, you’re keeping his fucking leash around your neck—"

"Enough," her mother whispered, her tone dissapointed, "Just… stop."

For a moment, everything was silent. And then, finally, her mom looked at her, her expression shattered. 

"You can’t stay here, Y/N."

Y/N’s stomach dropped. They were kicking her out? She's their only child and they're kicking her out? She felt so lightheaded she was surprised her legs didn't give out from underneath her.

"What?"

Her dad didn’t even hesitate as he spoke out, "You’re not staying under this roof if you’re keeping that baby."

Ironically right after that, I think she went straight to Tannyhill, where else was she meant to go? It would've been pretty late, and she probably sat in her car for twenty minutes before she calmed down enough to be able to walk up to the front door of the massive house looming over her. Rafe, for once, was not completely high or out partying, instead he’s stuck at home after an argument with Ward, who'd taken Rose, Wheezie and Sarah with him to some long weekend get away to the Bahamas.

I imagine him cracking the door open, groggy and half-asleep, only to find Y/N standing there, her face soaked in tears, her whole body trembling from trying to hold it together. For a second, he just stares and then she sniffs, trying to get words out, but she can’t. Her lips wobble, her breath shudders, and her shoulders shake as she breaks all over again.

"They kicked me out."

It takes him a second to process, but when he does, something shifts in his expression. He looks her up and down- her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together, her red-rimmed eyes, the slight flinch when she breathes in too hard.

And something about it fucks with him.

The idea that someone else- her own family no less- mistreats her would really get to Rafe. It’s not just about her being upset, it’s about him being the only one allowed to do that to her. He’s always had a possessive side, but when someone else challenges his claim over her… it feels like a direct challenge to his control. He might not show it right away, but it disturbs him. It shakes him up because in his world, he is the one who’s allowed to hurt her.

"Come inside" 

He mutters, stepping back to let her in. She hesitates for half a second, but the cold night air is biting, and she has nothing left. So she steps inside. Y/N stands there in the hallway, her breath shallow, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her hands clutch at her stomach, as if the life inside her is the only thing still holding her together. Her eyes are glassy, filled with unshed tears, the weight of her parents' rejection sinking deep into her chest. The house is quiet- too quiet and Rafe's presence is dark and heavy, stepping closer like a shadow that wraps itself around her.

"What happened?"

His voice is rough, low, cutting through the silence. He doesn’t need to ask more, because she knows that’s all it’ll take to break her again. Y/N’s breath hitches, the tears fall faster now, streaking down her cheeks, and her hands shake as she presses them to her face, trying to stop herself from falling apart completely.

"They found out. My mom- she- she saw the test, and my dad—" 

Her words falter as the sobs wrack her body, tearing through her chest like a hurricane. As she stands there, her whole body shaking, Rafe moves closer, pulling her into him with the force of his presence. His hands find her back, rubbing it softly, tenderly, as if he’s not the reason she's in this mess. Yet she leans into him either way, melting into his touch cause some sick part of her can't help but yearn for him. But this is Rafe of course, he had already gotten in her head about having this baby, and he had to make sure her mind didn't change.

"They don’t give a shit about you, Y/N. They’re embarrassed by you."

His sweet tone was a juxtaposition to his brutal words, a reality she certainly didn't want to face. the hands clinging onto his shirt loosened slightly as the sentence left his mouth, but his grip on her didn't waver.

"You think they’re gonna change their minds? You think they’re gonna help you raise this kid?"

She pulled her head away from his chest to look up at him, expression completely hopeless as her eyes met his intense gaze. His hand, previously rubbing soothing circles onto her lower back moved up, his fingers tightening slightly around the back of her neck, grip firm, enough to keep her from looking away. His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into hers, searching for any sign of weakness, any sign that she might still doubt what he’s saying. The silence between them feels thick, heavy with the weight of his words.

"Don’t you get it, Y/N?"

His voice drops lower, smoother, as if he’s explaining something painfully obvious. Rafe's thumb traces lightly along her skin, as if to remind her just how close he is, just how much control he has over her. He watches her closely, his gaze unwavering, as her breath comes in short, shaky bursts. The conflict in her eyes is obvious, but Rafe’s not letting her off the hook that easily. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he continues, his tone still deceptively sweet, coated with that sickening layer of care he knows she craves.

"Look at you," he mutters, his lips barely brushing the shell of her ear,

"You’re a mess. And no one’s gonna fix you but me."

Her chest tightens at the sound of his words, and for a moment, she almost feels trapped within the web he’s spun around her. Her head is spinning, as his hand slides from her neck to her cheek, cupping her face, forcing her to focus on him, his touch both tender and possessive.

"You don’t want to be alone in this, do you? I’m the only one you’ve got. The only one who cares enough to stick around."

Y/N blinks back tears, feeling a strange pull toward him even as her gut screams that this isn’t right. But his words… they get under her skin, wrap around her heart, making her feel like maybe, just maybe, he’s all she has left. Maybe he’s right, and there’s no one else who will be there for her... it's his baby after all. She opens her mouth to speak, her voice shaky.

"I-"

But Rafe cuts her off shushing her gently, his hand slides from her cheek to her jaw, tilting her head back slightly, forcing her to meet his gaze, voice low and smooth, a promise wrapped in poison.

"You’re mine, Y/N. You’re going to do this for me. For us."

In that moment, despite the rising nausea in her chest, she feels herself giving in. It's twisted and toxic, but a part of her is already slipping into his control. She knows it’s wrong, she knows it should scare her, but his words, his presence- it's like a drug. She needs it, needs him, even if it's all just another layer of manipulation wrapped in false affection. Her lips tremble as she finally speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I… I don’t know what to do."

Rafe smirks, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he pulls her closer, his lips brushing her's gently.

"I’ve got it all figured out for you baby."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

would you write dark!rafe x kidnapped!maybank!reader who’s developing stockholm syndrome & when the pogues find her shes worried about him cause jj hit him & he’s bleeding & doesn’t want to leave with them. rafe is all cocky about it but they forcefully take her home

- DEBT

div below by @/miuji, div above by @/cafekitsune

WARNINGS: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, dark!rafe, fighting, mentions of guns, blood, like one use of the word “good girl.” Reader is hinted at to be a little naive/dumb… Yeahh… this is fucked up I love it

AUTHORS NOTE: this is definitely not an accurate representation of Stockholm syndrome, but I tried my best ! Not proofread

Technically, this wasn’t even supposed to be the plan.

Him and Barry were meant to barge in, cover both ends of the house, and steal their money back. If JJ was there, one of them would keep him down. It was a solid plan, in their opinion.

Although, they had forgotten to take another factor into consideration. You.

JJ had mostly kept you shielded from the world, despite you being his older sister, he still cared about you and wanted to protect you. You’ve already been through so much with your dad, why add onto it? You took care of him before, now he’s taking care of you.

You were sitting on the bed, a book in front of your face with no care in the world. You had your headphones on full blast, mostly to block out the noise of the broken fridge and the noise of passing cars along the road near your house.

“Looks empty.” Barry spoke, Rafe nodding at him, pursing his lips.

“I’ll cover the rooms.” Rafe spoke, his heavy footsteps walking towards the narrow hallway. He paused for a moment when he heard the sound of faint music playing through one door, pushing his ear to the door.

He pulled his gun out, cocking it, fully preparing for JJ to be there.

When he opened the door, he wasn’t met with the sight of the blonde boy. Instead, he was met with the sight of pink walls and a white bed, with stuffed animals lined all on the back.

You looked up at him, letting out a scream and dropping your book. You raced to the drawer you knew had a gun hidden in it, but he was quicker, grabbing your wrist and holding it in a tight grip.

He pinned you down onto the bed, causing you let out a cry that was muffled when he put his hand over your mouth.

“Shut up, shut up!” He whisper yelled, you looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Yo, Rafe! What the fuck happened?” Barry asked as he barged into the room, looking between you and Rafe. You were sobbing at this point, confused and fearful.

“Shit…” he said with a rather amused chuckle, “Looks like we got ourselves somethin’ better than the money.”

Rafe ignored him, turning to look down at you now.

“If I take my hand off of your mouth, will you scream?”

You shook your head frantically, him letting go and holding his hands up, still pinning you to the bed. You looked between him and Barry, fear evident on your face. “What do you want?” You sobbed out, your voice broken.

God, you were pretty when you cried, Rafe thought to himself.

“We want to know where your brother put our damn money.” Barry spoke from behind Rafe.

“What- what money? I don’t know why you’re talking about.” You answered honestly.

Barry tsked, “It’s a nice lil room you got here, princess. Would hate for somethin’ to happen to it.” He spoke, picking a stuffed animal up off your bed.

“I’m being honest! I swear! He-he said something to his friend about him taking it somewhere, but I swear, I don’t know anything else!” You exclaimed, Rafe staring down at you, lightly shoving you further into the bed when you raised your voice.

“Don’t yell.”

“Oh, we believe you, sweetheart. But that’s the problem. See, your brother owes us a debt. A large one.” Barry murmured, “And if we don’t get our money… well… we need to take something, you know? Just to let him know we’re serious.”

Rafe looked to him with a furrowed eyebrow now.

“No, no, no, no-“ you began, “Please- I can-“

“Shh. Shh.” He told you, pressing a finger to his own lips. “I get it, you know, rough situation. But, until your brother gets us that money, I’m afraid we’re still owed somethin’. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Barry looked to Rafe, nodding. Rafe got off of you, pulling you off of the bed, and grabbed your hands, using a bandana, JJ’s bandana, off the floor, tying your arms and legs, and dragging you out of the house and throwing you into his truck.

You overheard a conversation up front with the two.

“Nah, man, I can’t keep her-“

“Bro, I live in a fucking trailer park. You live in a goddamned mansion.” Barry pointed to Rafe. “I ain’t got no room at my place. And if the cops come lookin’ for her, they more likely to trust you.”

Rafe sighed, nodding for a moment. “Shit, shit, alright.”

For weeks you fought against Rafe, screaming and yelling at him whenever you could.

You were tied up to the edge of his bed, so he could always keep an eye on you. Most of the time, he got annoyed, lashed out, and ended up putting tape over your mouth to shut you up.

You got tired, exhausted of fighting him. And you found yourself… simply letting go. It felt so much easier to do that, so much easier to listen, just so you wouldn’t have to hear his abuse.

There was ever so often he had a little compassion and sympathy for you. He would spoon feed you when you found yourself not eating or refusing to, and he would untie you when you complained about how your wrists hurt, letting you roam around the house, with him by your side, of course.

He even started to give you rewards for being a “good girl” as he said, dessert, time outside with him, little kisses on the forehead. It was his way of conditioning you.

You became dependent on him during your stay at Tannyhill, forcing you to become even closer with the boy.

And honestly, you learned to like it. Because that’s what you had to do in order to survive.

While Rafe was much more lenient now, even letting you sleep on his bed with him, though still tyed up, there was one thing he would not let you have.

Screen time.

Your face was plastered on the local news, a sweet little picture of you and your brother, your arms wrapped around each other, with a beaming smile on your face.

Shoupe even got on the news to talk about latest developments in the case- and there was only one that pointed to Rafe.

One of your neighbors squeaked and spoke about how they heard screaming coming from the house after they saw a black pick up truck drive past them. The sweet old neighbors went to check on you, but you weren’t home.

JJ spoke desperately, pointing to the picture as well, before the news switched to some other story.

Rafe clicked his teeth as he watched the news story, turning off the tv and making sure all his doors were locked. There’s no way someone would pick up on that. A black pick up truck could be anyone on the outer banks.

Sarah was the one to point out the fact that Rafe had a black pick up truck, and it was then that they realized that they had stolen from him and Barry.

JJ hopped on his bike, revving his engine and breaking a few speeding laws as he drove to figure eight.

You were sitting on the floor when Rafe walked back in, he grabbed your wrists, untying you, and making you stand up. He threw you over his shoulder, you letting out a surprised yelp at the action.

As soon as he went downstairs, he heard frantic knocking on the door, shouting and yelling of his name. Your head shot up, recognizing the voice.

“JJ?”

“Shit.” He mumbled, looking around for a moment, before looking to a closet. He shoved you in there, you looking around the large closet. He turned off the light, you looking at him now.

He put his finger to his mouth, telling you to be quiet. “Stay here, alright? You know what’s gonna happen if you don’t.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat, his warning hanging in the air as he shut the door to the closet, leaving you in the dark.

He walked to the front door, looking through the peephole to find JJ, Pope, John B, Sarah and Kie all standing outside. He was outnumbered, whether he’d like to admit it or not.

“The fuck do you want?” Rafe shouted, the pausing stopping for a moment.

“We know you have my sister!” JJ shouted angrily, “Where the fuck is she?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Rafe feigned confusion. “Are you serious right now?! You- you come here, asking me for your sister, a-accusing me of kidnapping her?! With no proof!” He stammered, his back facing the door, biting his nails, a nervous habit he’d picked up.

“You’re lying! Someone saw a black pick up truck at the house. We know it was you, Rafe!” Sarah shouted now.

“Listen, if you guys don’t leave, I’m gonna call the cops.”

“Then open the door! Prove it.” John B spoke now. Rafe thought for a moment, glancing at the hallway the closet was in, and sighing. He turned around, knowing they would be relentless and wouldn’t leave unless he opened the door, and turned the door knob.

“Happy?” He retorted, opening the door wide to show the empty house, although, it was then that JJ saw a figure peeking behind the wall.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, your eyes widening and you retreating back inside, away from the door. Rafe looked back, his jaw clenching.

JJ bit the inside of his cheek, before he balled his hands into a fist, and threw a punch at Rafe.

Rafe chuckled as he took a step back, his hands going to his face, wiping off blood from his nose.

“You wanna go, Maybank?” He sneered, towering over the boy. He stepped outside, and got punched in the face again, before the both of them tumbled to the ground, John B joining in as well.

You watched the scene, your heart pounding against your chest and your eyes locked in on Rafe, getting hit and trying to hit your brother and his friend back.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You ran outside, shouting JJ’s name. He paused, all movement stopping to look at you. JJ got off of Rafe, going to hug you before you avoided him, stepping away from him.

Rafe had a small smile on his face, standing up as well. He stood next to you, you looking up at him with a small frown on your face.

JJ watched with his jaw slack as he watched you fret over Rafe, standing on your tippy toes and using your sweater sleeve to wipe the blood off his face.

“What the fuck? Y/n! He kidnapped you!” JJ exclaimed.

“Sorry, man. Guess your sister just…” he clicked his teeth, “likes me more.” He looked down at you with a cocky smile on his face, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You looked to JJ now, Rafe mumbling to you how he’s okay, and it’s nothing to worry about.

“Y/n… please- I know you want to go home.”

You glanced back up at Rafe, staring up at him for a moment, and turning back to JJ.

“He’s a good guy, Jay.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Rafe was grinning a like the chesire cat and the pogues looked even more confused.

“What the fuck?” John B mumbled under his breath, Sarah looking at Kiara with worry on both their faces.

In Popes mind, he was working out what this could be. That’s when it popped into his mind, the term. He’s learned it before through some book he read, his eyes drifting to Rafe.

“W-what? What are you talking about, y/n?” JJ asked, “Whatever- whatever mind control shit he did to you, it isn’t real, alright?”

“She has Stockholm syndrome.” Pope murmured, all eyes snapping to him now. Rafes eyes narrowed.

“Look, whatever bullshit you guys think I did to her, I didn’t, alright? So just..” he waved his hand, “go back to your side of the island, I don’t wanna see you here until I got my money, alright? Then we can talk ‘bout...” Rafe glanced at you. “But hey, that’s even if she wants to go back with you.”

JJ didn’t waste another moment, running towards Rafe and tumbling onto the ground with him, getting into the second fight of the day with him. You stepped back, shouting Rafe’s name, when you felt arms around your waist.

You screamed again, feeling someone pick you up off of the ground and throw you over their shoulder, you hitting your fists and kicking them.

“Let me go!”

John B threw you into the car, him shouting JJs name. They all got into the Twinkie, you being practically held down again, watching through the windows as Rafe stood up, his hand holding his jaw.

He panted, looking at the car, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He would get you and his money back, he’s sure of it.

Taglist:

@moonssyrup @koibleufish @anamiad00msday @wearemadeofstardust0

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

2:35am: late night cravings

you couldn’t sleep. 

there was an itch you were desperate to scratch, it made your mouth water, nails digging into your palms as you shuffled in bed, chewing on your bottom lip. you desperately wanted chinese takeaway. realising you hadn’t had it in a while, it was all you could think about. 

there was one near campus, a ten-minute drive away, that was open all night, much to the delight of all the students coming back from late night outs or pulling all-nighters, thank the university gods. 

of course, you could quell your urge by going out to get some chow mein and dim sum on your own, but if sukuna woke up to you out of bed and in the streets in the middle of night by yourself, again, he would actually kill you. 

and you couldn’t possibly wake your boyfriend up; sukuna was sleeping so soundly beside you, snoring by your ear in a way you took comfort in �� it had become white noise for you. his arm is thrown over your waist, the weight pinning you to the bed. scared to wake him, you tried your best to stay still.

apparently, not well enough. 

“what’s wrong with you, you brat?”

his voice was groggy, crackled with sleep. despite the irritation in his words, you took no offence, after all, you had learnt very quickly after first meeting him that that was just simply how he spoke. always annoyed, so impatient, a barely constrained anger at the world that seemed to stem from nowhere. and you loved it so much. 

with a sheepish giggle, you traced the tattoos on his arm almost as an apology, soothing the sparks of ire within him. “sorry, kuna. just hungry.”

the moonlight beaming through the small gap in his curtains illuminated the space, helping your eyesight adjust to the darkness as you watched your boyfriend’s face crumple in complaint over being awoken. 

“yeah? well, go eat something then.”

you pouted, reaching your hand to brush a lock of hair out of his still-shut eyes, fingertips trailing on his forehead, smoothing out that furrow between his brows he always had. he never listened when you told him off about getting premature wrinkles, not now as his long-time girlfriend and certainly not as the friend he had pined for for months. 

“but kunaaaa, i want chinese. i’m gonna die if i don’t eat it.”

his fingers were drumming against your ribs as he huffed in amusement. he didn’t think he’d ever get used to your theatrics, and he’d definitely never tell you he loved them, it would just encourage you. 

“that’s unfortunate, but a sacrifice i’m willing to make.”

your gasp came without missing a beat and so did the slap against his back he had been expecting. it made the corner of his lips twitch before he rolled over, the warmth of his body disappearing as he stretched, back muscles rippling with the movement in that delectable way you wished you could capture and bury inside you. 

“alright, you spoiled brat. let’s fucking go.”

you squealed. “oh my god, really?”

he had stepped into the corner of his room that the moon’s reach didn’t graze, rustling through drawers to find a hoodie to throw over his bare torso. without needing to see his face you knew he was rolling his eyes; it was followed with that tsk noise he was known for. 

“yeah, well, unfortunately for me, my girl’s got a big appetite. if i don’t feed her, she might just eat me.”

[xooonism]

Caitvi x reader (modern AU)

*You´re laying in bed, making out faint noises, pulling you out of your dreams. You open your eyes, blinded by the lights of the morning sun, before you make out Vi´s face. "Morning, peach", she spoke while smiling. "Did you sleep well, love?", Caitlyn says, who´s laying behind you, her body pressed against yours.

*contains: sexual activities, lesbian sex, threesome, making out, pussy licking, scissoring etc. MDNI

*wordcount: 2.1k

*authors note: This is my first ever fanfiction so please tell me anything that i could improve! Enjoy!

You groaned, feeling hazy after being pulled from your sleep. Feeling the warmth of both women on your body made it hard to stay awake. You always sleep this way, squeezed in between of Vi and Cait, enjoying their warm and soft bodies. You never complained, because you really loved the feeling of protection, helping you fall asleep quicker.

You managed to open your mouth to mumble a soft ´morning`, while streching your body, almost hitting Cait in the process. "What time is it?", you asked unfazed.

Cait answered, "It´s half past seven". You looked at her. Cait´s eyes looked heavy, telling you that she must´ve woken up briefly before you.

"Do you have to work?", you asked looking at both women. "No. We can spend some time together today". You smiled at this. Days like this, on which all of you had a free day from work, didn`t happen often. So you enjoy every moment you have together.

Vi leaned in, kissing your forehead, pulling you close. "Can we just stay in bed all day?", she asked. Right in that moment her stomach rumbles, making you chuckle. "Looks like we can´t. Can´t have you starving.", Cait chimed in.

"I can make pancakes.", you spoke into Vi`s neck, breathing in her scent. She smells soft but pungent at the same time, like sandalwood and cinnamon. You gifted her a shower gel that smells just like this, making you smile at the thought that she liked the present.

Your mention of pancakes made Vi´s head shoot up, making you chuckle. "Pancakes?". Vi looked like a little puppy, getting a treat.

"Yeah, but we have to get up first." You felt a small protest from them, who hugged you thight. Eventually they loosend their grip, Cait being the first to leave the bed. You followed suit, having to peel away Vi´s arms, to get her to stand up. She acted like a baby in the morning, cuddling up to Cait and you. You loved it.

You followed Cait into the bathroom, splashing water onto your face, before doing your skincare routine and brushing your teeth. You left before Vi and Cait, opening your drawer in the bedroom, pulling out a white tanktop and some sweatpants and changing your clothes.

Your girlfriends still haven´t left the bathroom, probably playfighting or snickering about something stupid. You walked into the kitchen already, using this moment alone the prepare some pancake batter. It´s always messy when Vi´s in the kitchen while you bake. She tries to eat some of the dough or batter, or smears some on your or Cait´s face. You didn´t hate it, but it could lead to you spending hours in the kitchen, throwing flour at each other and having to clean up the kitchen afterwards.

You prepared the pancakes, putting them on plates just in time, as both women walked into the kitchen, sitting down. "It smells so good, Peach. I love it when you bake.", Vi admits making you smile. You placed the plates with pancakes infront of the women, sitting down with your own plate. Cait looks at the food in front of her, smiling before she takes a bite. "I agree, Vi. She´s the best baker around.", she says before turning to you. "Thank you sweetheart."

You blushed slightly at the compliments, before taking a bite of your pancakes. You´ve told them countless times not to thank you for your baking, because you honestly just loved to see their satisfied faces.

Vi and Cait started to talk about your plans for today, suggesting staying in and watching a movie. "Peach, what movie should we watch?", Vi asked. You thought for a while, before speaking up, "How about Spiderman?". Vi smiled, noding her head. You know that Vi loved to watch spiderman, always accepting the invitation to watch the movies with her.

"Again? We´ve watched it like 5 times this month.", Cait says. Vi looked at her dissapointed, making Cait give in. "Fine. Let´s watch spiderman.", she sighed.

You all moved to the couch, settling in. When the movie started, Vi laid in between your legs, while Cait settled onto Vi´s stomache. Your attenion drifted to the movie. You placed your hand on Vi´s head, stroking her pink hair. Her warmth in between your legs made you hot. You started to fantasise about those moments, late at night, when Cait sat on your face while Vi slurped you up. Your face heated up at that thought, you legs unconsciously closing around Vi’s hips, pulling her attention from the movie.

“Is everything alright, peach?”, she asked, also pulling Cait’a attention from the movie, which surprised you, because she ‘apparently’ hated spiderman. “Yes”, you answered, “Just getting comfortable.”

Vi placed her head on your boobs, turning her head to kiss them trough your shirt. They were satisfied with your answer, turning their heads to the TV. Vi’s head remained on your chest, which made you drift off to those memories again.

The dynamic between both women and you was always strong. Like a match made in heaven. You three never had problems in the bedroom, one always taking on the dominant role, switching once they pleased you. You always took care of each other, making sure everyone reached their climax, often reaching for more then one. Sometimes, when one of you had to work, you also spend your times with one of them. Licking Vi´s pussy, or scissoring with Cait. Or them eating each other out. You don´t mind it, always catching up.

You thought about touching them. Tracing your hands down Vi´s abs, or squeezing Cait´s thighs. You love them, and their beautiful bodies. It was exciting, taking of each others clothes, kissing their necks. You felt youself getting wet, trying hard not to grind onto Vi´s back. You wrapped one arms around Vi´s shoulders and out around her waist, reaching for Cait´s head, now stroking her hair. Vi placed her hand in yours and Cait sighed at your touch. You felt at peace.

But also incredibly horny.

Vi looked over her shoulder, noticing that you´re not paying attention to the movie. She thought about your thighs proped up against her waist. They are soft. She can feel it, even trough your pants. You saw her gaze on your face, catching her eyes, pulling her away from her thoughts. You stared at each other, making you smile. You leaned in and kissed her lips, Vi moving her head to give you better access. Her lips felt soft against yours, which made you want more. You slipped your tounge into her mouth, Vi moaning at the feeling. This cought Cait´s attention. She smirked at the sight of you two making out.

She never felt left out. Watching you both enjoy each other´s body always made her feel hot, heat pooling in between her thighs. Cait got on her knees, Vi´s thighs on hers. She placed her hands on Vi´s boobs, which made Vi gasp into your mouth. You took this advantage, thanking Cait in your mind, to deepen the kiss. There you were, making Vi loose her cool right in front of you.

Cait roamed her hands over Vi´s body, her hands reached her pants, slipping her fingers under her waistband. Vi lifted her hips, giving Cait permission to take of her bottoms. After she pulled them off she admired the view of Vi´s pussy. She could make out her wetness in between her lips. Cait slid her finger trough them, teasing her clit with the collected slick. Vi moaned. Her sound is like music to your ears.

You pulled away from the kiss, Vi following your lips before settling her head on your boobs again. You cought Cait´s gaze, smirking at her, pulling her in by the neck. Your lips connecting right in front of Vi´s face, made her bite her lip. She buckled her hips onto Cait´s fingers, moaning at the feeling of them touching her pussy.

You broke away from the kiss, looking into Cait´s eyes. She suddenly stood up, Vi whining at the cold feeling on her pussy. You watched Cait undress herself, her pants hitting the floor. You chuckled, knowing what she was planning.

She lifted Vi´s leg, placing her own over Vi´s hip. She moaned after feeling Cait´s pussy on her own. They started to grind on each other, moaning and groaning at the feeling. Cait leaned forward, connecting her lips with yours again. Your hands traveling to Vi´s boobs, pinching her nipples, which pulled a whine out of her mouth.

Their noises filled the living room, your own joining after Cait slid her tounge into your mouth. Your mind was spinning. You felt your nipples grazing against your shirt, making you buckle your hips onto Vi´s back.

Vi moaned, feeling overstimulated by the feeling of her clit grazing against Cait´s, your finger pulling at her nipples, Cait´s boobs right beside her face and your hips pushing against her. She felt her climax approach, her moans doubling on volume. Cait´s clit slid against Vi´s, making her cum, her loud moans letting you know that she reached her climax.

Cait slowed her hips, coming to a stop. Your hands left Vi´s chest, laying against her stomach. Vi cought her breath. She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Cait´s.

"How you feeling, baby?", your voice pulling Vi from her mind. She sat up answering, "Horny." You chuckled at her answer, placing your hand on her cheek, stroking circles onto her skin. Cait looked at you two, her pussy dripping. She reached for you, her hands catching the bottom of your top, pulling it off of your body.

She smirked at the sight of your boobs, your hardend nipples catching her eyes. Vi watched you both, before pushing Cait on her back. "Let´s take care of you two, Yeah?"

You smiled, watching Vi crawl down Cait´s legs, her mouth reaching Cait´s clit. Both women groaned, one enjoying the taste, the other melting into her mouth. You sprung into action, pulling your pants of and tossing them on the ground. You walked up to Cait, your thighs placed around her face. She opened her eyes, grinning at the sight of your wet pussy. She placed her hands on your hips, forcing you on her mouth. She lapped at your slick, sucking on your clit. You held onto the couch, throwing your head back, a moan leaving your mouth.

You looked over your shoulder, watching Vi´s tounge dissapear into Cait´s pussy. The sound of moans filled the room again, your nipples hard because of the cold air. Yet the room was hot. Sweat appeared your face. The feeling of Cait´s fingers massaging your pussy pulled your attention to her again. You watched her other hand travel up your thighs, her fingers resting on your hole. She stared into your eyes before her fingers sunk into you. You groaned at the feeling of her streching you out. Your warm walls left her satisfied, her mouth connecting with your clit again.

Vi also brought up her hand, coating her fingers with Cait´s slick, before sinking them in. Cait moaned, which made you clench on her fingers. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, moans and groans filling the air, aswell as the sound of the movie, playing on the TV, which was long forgotten. You felt yourself getting closer, Cait´s tounge on your clit and her fingers stroking in a steady rythym, made your climax approach. Your hands cought your boobs, your fingers tugging your nipples.

Your climax hit you like a wall. Your hips riding Cait´s face, as your moans got louder. Your walls thighten until Cait couldn´t move her fingers anymore. You fell on Cait, your arms catching you as you looked down onto her. Cait pulled her mouth off your clit and her fingers out of your pussy, as she felt her own climax approach.

Vi quickend her pace, devouering Cait, as you pulled yourself off of her, your feet catching the ground. Cait threw her head back, a loud whine leaving her lips and her body stiffening. She rode out her orgasm, satisfied moans leaving her mouth.

Vi pulled away from Cait, sitting up as she gave you a proud look.

You loved free days.

[odoraful]

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹.ᐟ

xiao has been noticing some symptoms in you lately and decides to go to baizhu for some advice…

⟡ content — xiao x gn!reader ; absolute fluff, i'm talking very silly and cute ; baizhu and qiqi appearance ; reader has a massive crush on xiao and it goes utterly over his head ; but xiao is just trying his best to be caring ; 3.2k words

⟡ a/n — xiao lovers please rise 🙂‍↕️ banner art by dsmile9 on twitter!

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In his time as a doctor, Baizhu had seen it all. Every weird and wonderful thing about the human body. Every high and low of the human experience. He thought there was little that could shock him now. However, he was disproven at this very moment when the Conqueror of Demons showed up at Bubu Pharmacy.

There actually didn’t seem to be wrong with the yaksha in terms of ailments. No gaping wounds or visible signs of karmic corruption. Baizhu did observe that he appeared more bashful that usual with how tight his arms were folded across his chest, but he did well to hide it under his stone-faced expression.

What was wrong was that he was standing here.

Willingly standing here.

Not being dragged in a half-conscious state by little Qiqi or another one of his companions who certainly cared about his health more than himself.

If Xiao was at his doorstep, the situation must be rather serious.

“Conqueror of Demons,” he greeted, resting his chin on his hand. “Now, isn’t this a welcome surprise?”

Qiqi hopped down from her stool behind the counter, shuffling towards Xiao with unbelieving eyes. She poked at his leg, checking that it was really the yaksha in the flesh. Xiao let the young girl prod as he unfolded his arms and spoke.

“Baizhu, I need your assistance.”

A request for aid? From the Conqueror of Demons himself? Baizhu stood up straighter, his curiosity changing from amused to serious.

“I-it’s about Y/N.”

Ah, I should have known. Yes, he was familiar with you. The person who had brought Xiao to the pharmacy in the aftermath of a particularly dangerous patrol. He could never forget the worry carved into your face and the tenderness in how you brushed his hair away from his sweat slicked skin. As to your relationship together, he had his internal speculations, but never heard anything official as of yet.

Baizhu nodded. “Qiqi, would you mind closing up the pharmacy early today?”

He looked over at Xiao with a soft smile, “Come with me to the back. We can have a discussion there.”

The room Baizhu led Xiao into was reserved for consultations with patients who had more complicated presentations. The furniture inside were all crafted from the same dark wood with gold embellishments. It contained a bed with white linens, a chest of multiple drawers containing all sorts of herbalist components, a low table for working with accompanying stools and chairs, and a bamboo screen for privacy where a wash bucket and cloth were set up behind.

Rather than sit on the bed or in any available chair, Xiao chose to stand. Baizhu sat in his chair by the table, legs crossed. Qiqi joined them soon after, plopping herself onto a stool.

“What seems to be the problem?” Baizhu asked.

Xiao sighed, brow twisted with concern. It was probably the most emotion he had seen in the yaksha. “Y/N hasn’t been themself lately… I believe they might be ill, but I can’t conclude what the ailment is.”

“And may I ask why you came to me? Wouldn’t it make greater sense to have them see me directly than through a middle man?”

Xiao shook his head. “Each time I’ve asked about the state of their health, they dismiss me.”

“I see…” Baizhu hummed with understanding.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask about the condition of their loved ones. But to see the Conqueror of Demons show such care for someone despite his reclusive nature. Curious indeed.

“Well then,” he continued, taking his pen and flicking open a notebook in front of him to a fresh page, “what symptoms have you’ve observed so far?”

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patient has been showing signs of increased clumsiness…

Xiao wasn’t a master at interpreting emotion, but he was adept at observing them. Any flicker of change in someone or something’s manner could be the difference between blocking a strike or being fatally injured. Not that being in mortal danger applied to this situation right now, but the skill was transferrable. Right now, Xiao was observing you from the balcony of his room at Wangshu Inn. You were assisting Verr Goldet with hanging some new decorations far below. The boss, however, had currently been pulled aside to help an elderly couple with directions.

He watched as you stood on a step ladder, hanging up a red colored ornament to one of the lantern poles that lined the deck of the inn. His keen senses spiked. The combination of you on your tippy toes, the unstable structure supporting you, and your focus being entirely on hanging the decoration instead of yourself did not have many positive outcomes. Instantly, Xiao went from being on the topmost floor to behind you. Traces of his teleportation manifested as green wisps of energy in the air.

You felt the ladder stabilize beneath your. Your heels fell back down as you stood properly.

“Thanks Goldet!” you called over your shoulder before turning around fully to ask, “Tell me, would the flower or butterfly one look better—”

The rest of your question caught in your throat. Verr Goldet was not there behind you. Rather, a certain teal haired protector who you had grown close to.

You were introduced to Xiao by Verr Goldet herself. She believed it would be good for you and him to meet. Being apart of the adventurer’s guild meant that you had interacted with many different individuals, and could share your knowledge of the mortal world.

As time passed, strangers would turn to acquaintances, then acquaintances would turn into friends. The label of which Xiao himself bestowed upon you on an ordinary afternoon. It made your heart both soar at the heartfelt admission and sink to hear such a definitive term. You always hoped there would be room for something more.

Xiao blinked up at you on the ladder. In a matter of seconds, he saw your eyes go wide with recognition, then your feet slipping against the ladder’s surface. Thankfully, he had reflexes as quick as an electro thunderstorm. You tumbled forward, straight into his arms.

“X-Xiao?!” you squeaked.

He didn’t let you go just yet. Instead, he tightened his hold on you, trying to let the shock of the fall pass over you.

“This ladder is too unbalanced,” he said. “You should be more careful.”

You could only nod. Your brain was more occupied with your proximity to Xiao. How you could see the different shades of amber in the irises of his eyes, and the shape of his lips.

Some part of your consciousness pinched itself, and you whipped your head away.

“I-I didn’t realize. That’s my mistake,” you answered with a sheepish chuckle.

He gave a short sigh before gently letting you stand. The places where his strong grip held you still tingled against your skin.

“Also… the flower one,” Xiao mumbled.

You cocked your head, thinking you had misheard him. “I’m sorry?”

Xiao folded his arms, nodding towards the lantern pole.

“You asked about the decorations. The flower one would… look nice.”

Never had such simple words caused a flutter in your stomach.

If that wasn’t enough, Xiao remained with you, lending a hand where he could. He didn’t want there to be an accident if he had left you alone. What he didn’t expect was that you seemed to be more clumsier as time continued. Unable to step on the ladder without your knees wobbling, tripping over the boxes of decorations, dropping the tools every time you went to hang a decoration up. Considerate as he was, Xiao climbed ladders, moved boxes, and hammered things in place for you without protest. Though, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

Verr Goldet returned to find the pair hard at work. She observed, amusingly, how obvious you were being about your feelings and how oblivious the other was in seeing them.

Ah, youth, she mused to herself.

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patient has been experiencing raised bodily temperature…

Telling Xiao not to worry was like telling the waters in Chenyu Vale not to flow. It was a simple law of nature; a force unable to be stopped.

“I’m feeling perfectly fine,” you emphasized for a second time.

You were seated on the small sofa in your living room. Beside you, Xiao also sat, straight-backed and gloved hands in his lap.

Xiao had come to your home to visit. Both out of curiosity as to how mortals lived in their own dwellings and curiosity about you. More specifically, why you had been so flushed recently. Whenever he saw you, he noticed the pink that spread from tips of your ears to apples of your cheeks.

“There are signs that show otherwise,” he stated, bluntly.

Ever since that time he helped you decorate the inn, Xiao had been much, much more attentive towards you. Eyes examining you up and down with little subtlety. Under such a gaze, how could you not become hot and bothered?

“I am not familiar with mortal health, but I have noticed you’ve grown more…” Xiao searched for the right descriptor in his head, “…redder, recently.”

Archons, does he know about it?! you thought to yourself with alarm. He turned towards you, and you stifled a yelp. There was no way in Celestia this was how he would find out.

“It may be due to some kind of illness.”

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. An… illness?

Sensing the confusion on your face, Xiao moved nearer until he was right by your side. He lifted a hand up to your forehead, an action he had observed many adults perform on children to assess their temperature. If he was correct in its function, then this should allow him to draw an appropriate conclusion.

Your body locked up.

He was so, so close once again.

“Even now,” the slight gravel of his tone reverberated in your ears, “your face is heating up. It is likely a fever.”

He pulled away. You exhaled a breath that you subconsciously held.

“I can take you to see Baizhu. He will know what to do.”

Xiao stood up, implying that he would take you there right now.

“No, no! There’s absolutely no need!” you protested.

The emphatic rejection made Xiao frown.

“I-it’s nothing that bedrest can’t fix.” you said, attempting to provide a convincing cover. “There’s no need to waste your teleportation powers to transport me.”

“It is no waste if it concerns your health,” he answered.

“You know what,” you shot up from the sofa, “I’ll go to my room right now to get some sleep!”

Xiao opened his mouth, prepared with his own protest. However, you were faster than him in continuing your sentence.

“You should go now, Xiao. I wouldn’t want you to catch whatever sickness I have.”

Though he appreciated your consideration, as an adeptus with a completely different constitution, he was certain mortal ailments would hardly affect him. However, he couldn't explain all that to you with how fast you marched away to your room, leaving him behind.

He saw your head poke out from behind the door of your bedroom.

“Thank you for visiting me!” you called out before shutting the door.

If Xiao knew this word, he would have used it to describe the exact emotion he was feeling at this moment: Flabbergasted.

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patient’s heartrate is frequently elevated…

Even after the fever incident, Xiao, to your relief, still wished to see you. You half expected him to be so bewildered by your actions that he would no longer want to be associated with you. So, you two returned to your ordinary routines of meeting with each other.

Xiao liked having your company in the evenings before he went out on patrol. As you sat on the edge of his bed, you would tell him about your week’s completed commissions. For Xiao, it served many purposes. Tactically, he could get insight any threats to Liyue that he couldn’t detect if you were involved in or overheard any significant commissions. In those first instances of meeting with you, Xiao would have said that that was the only purpose your stories held for him. But, with each passing night, Xiao realized he rather enjoyed hearing your voice. The cadence of your tone soothed him the same way notes played by a skilled musician captured an audience. He then found his lips curving into a hidden smile whenever you described a particularly frustrating encounter. Cheeks puffed in annoyance that drew a word from his vocabulary that he seldom used: cute.

Tonight, however, you appeared to be in no such mood for stories.

You were quiet, slowly flipping through pages of a novel as you read. It wasn’t strange for you to complete your own activity during this time, but Xiao had come to anticipate your conversation. His concerns about your health bubbled to the surface once again.

If he had focused more closely on you, he would have seen that your attention was far from the words on the page. Not looking at Xiao meant your heart could be less out on your sleeve and instead encased within muscle and bone where its supposed to be.

Xiao glanced back at you, eyes glued to the novel. He wouldn’t push it. Maybe this was the rest you were speaking about previously to help you recover.

He grabbed his shoulder armor from the bedside table, preparing to put it on himself using one hand as he had done hundreds of times before.

Two hands grasped the armor, lifting it from his own grasp.

“Let me help you.”

Your voice was delicate, almost hesitant as you reached out.

Xiao wordlessly accepted, sitting down on the bed to grant you easier access. You adjusted the spiked armor piece, making sure it laid flat and the black material beneath was secure around his shoulder.

Whilst you didn’t look up at him, he freely observed you. There was something beneath your avoidant gaze and bitten lower lip he couldn’t quite decipher. At the same time, there was something in his chest that stirred.

So unfamiliar with these new emotions you seemed to bring for him, Xiao could only think in somethings.

“Thank you,” he said. “You are very kind.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “It’s always easier to have someone else helping you out.”

Fitting the amour in place, you went to pull away. Suddenly, Xiao caught your wrist with his hand.

The breath escaped your lungs. You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were imagining all this in your head. Xiao brought two fingers to your wrist, applying light pressure onto your skin.

“Your pulse...” concern laced his voice as he spoke. “It is quite fast.”

How could he even sense such a thing!? You cleared your throat, trying to temper your shock.

“It’s always naturally this high,” you answered as light-hearted as possible.

“Mhm,” Xiao could only hum with mild suspicion.

Willing his jade spear to materialize, Xiao weighed it in his hand, readying for the night’s patrol.

“Look after yourself,” he said gently. “I’ll return tomorrow.”

With a nod and a lilt in your voice you replied, “I know. You always do.”

Xiao headed to the balcony. He did not turn around to face you, and therefore missed your tender gaze and your fingers brushing over your wrist where his gloved touch still lingered on your skin.

Disappearing into the night, Xiao made up his mind. He would go consult Baizhu about your condition and see what the course of action he should take. Surely the well practiced doctor could provide some necessary answers.

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During the first part of Xiao’s recounts, Baizhu had a pretty good guess about what was happening with you. By the halfway point, he wondered if he should even continue feigning writing patient notes.

Xiao finished relaying his information, hands now on his hips—expectantly. “What do you think is happening?”

Baizhu tapped his pen against the page of the notebook. It certainly is a very special type of sickness… he thought to himself. How would Xiao react if he told him he diagnosed you with 'lovesickness'?

“Will Y/N be okay?” Qiqi asked, tugging on Baizhu’s white coat. “I like Y/N. They always give warm hugs.”

The doctor gave a reassuring smile and patted Qiqi’s head. “Yes, they’ll be alright. I’ve made my assessment.”

Xiao prepared himself. If it was serious, he needed to know how to best help you. Comparatively, Baizhu appeared not the least bit troubled. Turning to the adeptus, he drummed his fingers against the table.

“Did you notice a particular trend in the occurrence of these symptoms?”

“A trend?” Xiao repeated, resting his chin on his hand.

Maybe it had to do with the weather? Or something you had eaten on those days?

“Yes, they all seem to happen when you’re there,” Baizhu answered seeing Xiao unable to come to a conclusion. “Being more clumsy, feeling hot, a fast beating heart, but only around a certain someone…”

Xiao’s brows raised. “Am I the cause of Y/N’s illness? Is my karmic debt responsible for this?”

Baizhu shook his head immediately. “No, no, Archons no! I can assure you that these symptoms have nothing to do with your karma.”

He sighed, trying to switch his words. “Rather, it’s more to do with your… character.”

“My character?” Exasperated confusion was permanently affixed to Xiao’s face. “This ambiguity you speak with is unhelpful.”

Baizhu had done some tough things as a doctor. But trying to subtly hint to a somewhat emotionally unaware individual that someone had a crush on him was certainly one of the hardest.

He paused a moment. Was it really his place to reveal this? Wouldn’t it be far better, and more meaningful, for you to tell him on your own?

“Some symptoms that people report are actually very normal parts of everyday living,” he said, adopting his most professional tone. "My recommendation is for you to ask Y/N how they’ve been feeling recently, and to tell them that it’s never healthy to keep things bottled up inside.”

Finally, some advice for Xiao to action.

“You think I should be more direct in my confrontation?” he asked.

“Yes, but not too much to arouse anxiety.”

Xiao nodded thoughtfully. He should have known that it didn’t have to be a physical illness—maybe your symptoms were a manifestation of stress or worry you were experiencing. Talking it out would be a good step. Even if he was not the most skilled at it, he would try anything to help you feel better.

“I will take your advice. Thank you, Baizhu.”

He bowed his head in thanks. Baizhu gave a hum of what sounded like satisfaction.

“Tell me how it all goes, Conqueror of Demons.”

Baizhu’s voice as he spoke was a little too singsong for Xiao’s taste. But, he was one of the best doctors in Liyue, so who was he to second guess his words?

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[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji when you randomly get your period.

you and toji had been cuddling on his couch for the past hour. toji had demanded you watch his favourite episodes of law and order with him as you both constantly bickered about who had better taste in shows. toji was also using this as an excuse to have you close, one of his favourite things to do with you was binge watch shows and movies. you were the type of person to make commentary throughout the entire thing but toji unfortunately found everything you said hilarious so he didn’t mind (though he would never tell you that). you’d watched two episodes by now and you were starting to feel ravenous.

“yeah alright doll i know, bbq wings and extra ranch.”

“awww look who knows my order off by heart”

“hard not to when you gobble it down 3 times a week.”

you punch his shoulder, obviously to no prevail as the man was built of muscle and muscle only. he tackled you back and the two of you go on play fighting until you sit up slightly and see the red mark on the thigh of toji’s sweatpants. toji’s face immediately turned into one of confusion, there’s no way he was bleeding from some play fighting, it didn’t even hurt? but you had realised what happened, you had realised but you really really hoped this one time you were wrong. and then toji saw the small red stain splotched on the back of your pyjama pants where you had previously been pressed into him whilst you were watching tv.

“uh oh baby d’ya get your period?”

“oh my god i think so” and with that you had ran off to the bathroom and locked the door. your heart was racing and your face felt like it was on fire. you and toji had only been dating for two months you were sure this would be it for him, he thinks you’re disgusting he has to. you peel your bottoms off and just as your about to get into the shower you hear a knock on the door.

“baby you wanna pass me your pants and i’ll put them in the wash?”

God why was he washing them? did he think you were the type of person to not offer to? how would you even give them to him he’d have to touch them? you didn’t have the voice to argue right then so you folded your pyjama pants as neatly as you could and without a word unlocked the door and plopped them into his waiting hands. he sounded like he had tried to get a word in but you had shut the door just as fast. he was probably going to ask you to leave as soon as you came out and you couldn’t blame him how could you have been so careless? you hadn’t heard from him again whilst you were showering and as hard as you tried you couldn’t get the tears to stop. you knew periods weren’t a big deal but you couldn’t help but feel so deeply embarrassed at what had happened. with trembling hands you crept your way to his bedroom and found some pajamas of yours you’d left on a previous stay. you’d also kept a stash of pads in his drawers for emergencies you just didn’t think they’d be this humiliating.

“mama you finished?”

after a few deep breaths you opened the door and braced yourself for him to ask you to leave.

“i’m so so sorry toji” you whispered, his name coming out of your mouth on a choked sob.

“mama what are you talking about?” toji didn’t know what to do. you were distraught, over some blood? he froze for a second at the sight of your red nose and bloodshot eyes, the hicuppy sounds of your quick breaths. then he swooped you into his arms and began caressing your back as he spoke.

“baby please tell me you aren’t this upset over getting some blood on me? like you haven’t cleaned my cuts and bruises hundreds of times by now”

“that’s not the same.” you said in between short breaths.

“it is tho baby. it’s just a bit of blood i’m a big boy i can handle it. in all honesty baby you could shit in my hands and i wouldn’t give a fuck.” he said in an attempt to make you laugh.

“toji ewww”

“kidding mama. kind of. seriously though baby look at me” he held your face gently in hands and lifted your head until you looked him in his eyes.

“you physically couldn’t do anything that would make me see you any less. you’ve done so much for me mentally and emotionally there is nothing on this planet that could ever make me be disgusted by you let alone something natural.”

you didn’t have any words to reply to him with and he didn’t need any. your expression had changed, the embarrassment had simmered down and all he could see now was affection and gratitude. toji understood you, he knew that sometimes you didn’t want to speak, especially after a long cry you had a tendency to stop talking for a while. with your face still held in his calloused palms toji pressed his lips into your soft ones. he pecked your lips, then moved to your nose, your forehead, over both your eyelids and then both your cheeks.

“my pretty girl. you want your wings now baby?”

and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way your eyes lit up. you truly were his girl.

a/n : oh noooo he dropped his feminist literature books

[rowarn]

TAKING WHAT YOU NEED (m.)

tags: afab!reader, no prns, a smidgen of hurt/comfort, soft!simon as usual, established relationship

cw: wet&messy, masturbation(reader), multiple orgasms, riding him<3, u pin him down and he lets u, creampie, simons uncut bc i said so, tiny praise, overstimulation

note: i wrote this against my will it was supposed to be simon bein lazy and making u ride him and do the work and it turned into a sickening beast. please enjoy it. MDNI!

; in which ur terribly horny and neglected for simon but hes so busy and tired u have no choice but to take what u need &lt;/3

3.5k words

he's been so busy lately, almost distant without meaning to. you still get the sweet little bits of affection he always gives; a kiss to your forehead, and soft hand on your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen, your hand wrapped in his while u watch tv late at night, his hand petting your hair as you lay against his chest in bed.

but you want more, you're greedy.

it's been days since he last touched you. you're not used to the dry spells, simon always willing and ready to fuck u stupid into the mattress until u cant keep your eyes open anymore.

ur fingers simply could never compare to his. he's a man who studied your body, spent the better part at the beginning of your relationship playing with you and learning what exactly made you cum the hardest and easiest -- what your favorite spots and positions were. ur fingers tired quickly, leaving you with an orgasm u knew would be better if simon was the one with his fingers buried in your pussy

what did he expect you to do, honestly? when he came out of the shower with his towel low on his hips? his back to you as he rifled through his drawers looking for something comfy to sleep in, his back muscles flexing with the movement? were you just supposed to be able to roll over and sleep, go take a shower and act as if your panties weren't sticking to you from looking at him?

you wanted him so badly that it actually brought tears to your eyes. you didn't care how silly it was; you wanted him so bad it hurt.

"si..." you whimper, unable to stop how your voice wobbled when you spoke.

his head snaps back to look over his shoulder, brown eyes wide in concern. he briskly walked to the edge of the bed where you crawled to, sitting on your knees looking up at him pitifully.

"what is it, love? what's wrong?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he cupped your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin as his eyes analyzed every inch of you for signs of injury -- a little habit he always had.

"wan' you," you whine, placing your hands flat on his chest, moving down over his stomach where his abs flexed under the ticklish touch.

he scoffs, rolling his eyes before batting your hands away, "thought you were actually upset."

he sounds a little miffed, turning his back to you again to pull out the pair of sweats he had been eyeballing. he lets his towel fall and pauses when he hears you actually whine.

he says your name low in his chest, a warning. whether he actually wants you to stop because he's not in the mood or he just doesn't want to get started with it, you don't know. but it makes you pout a little, flopping back in the bed with a huff.

you hear simon shuffling about, getting changed into the sweats before turning off all the lights, save for a little nightlight you keep on beside you until you're ready to sleep -- on the dimmer side so it doesn't bother simon while he sleeps.

he crawls into bed with a sigh, leaning over where you're still pouting into the pillows to kiss your temple.

"i'm just tired, love," he coos, no malice or annoyance to be found in his voice. his hand comes up to rub your back and you fucking whine again, making him pause, "pouting like this is a little pathetic."

he's teasing you, you can hear the huff of a laugh under his voice. tears prick your eyes again and you petulantly push his hands away to sit up. he's leaning back against the headboard, staring straight at you.

"it's not my fault you've been neglecting me!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest.

he actually throws his head back and laughs, "neglecting you? 'cause i haven't given you dick in a few days?"

"it's been more than a few days!" you spit back. although he's taking your bratty behavior in stride, you're actually a little annoyed.

he rolls his eyes and holds back a yawn, "you'll live. just...use that little vibrator you've got, it'll get the job done."

he goes to roll over and go to sleep but you make a noise that doesn't sound like your usual pouting -- it sounds actually upset. it pauses him in his tracks and he looks at you through the dim lighting.

"it's not just that," you mumble, flopping forward to smush your cheek against his chest, "i wanna have sex because i like being close to you, si...of course it feels amazing but i like being connected with you like that....'cause i love you."

he's still for a moment before his hand finds purchase on your back, softly rubbing against you in slow circles. he hums in his chest and kisses the crown of your head.

"'m sorry, love," he coos, "didn't think about that."

"it's okay..." you mutter before sobering up and sitting up to smile at him, "u get some sleep, i'm gonna go...take a shower."

he watches you crawl out of bed and root through your drawer, pulling out that vibrator he just mentioned and slink into the bathroom. it makes his heart ache a little but he slowly lies back against his pillow. his eyelids grow heavy as he lays there and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

he wakes again when you crawl back into bed, the smell of soap still fresh and wafting off of you. you keep your back to him as you curl into yourself in that cute little way that you do. it makes him drowsily smile to himself before he closes his eyes again.

but he can't fall asleep. you begin shifting and fidgeting almost as soon as he settles, it keeps him awake. he wonders what the problem is but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

you roll onto your back and he hears you sigh to yourself. his eyes crack open and he sees you staring at the ceiling. you glance over at him, not seeing the way his eyes are ever so slightly open.

he watches you slowly spread your thighs and your hand slide under the blanket, watches the way your brows furrow as you begin to slowly work at yourself.

his cock twitches in his pants; as tired as he is, no man would be able to sit there like nothing was happening while watching the one he adored touch themself.

he watches you, vaguely hears the wet, sticky noises of you touching yourself. he wonders if you're just working your clit in tiny little circles or if you've maybe stuffed a finger or two inside to get the feeling of being stretched. his cock hardens even further against his thigh and the sleepiness he felt begins to melt away but he can't bring himself to fully open his heavy lids.

after a few minutes, you make a frustrated little huff and pull your hand out from under the blanket, using a tissue on your night table to wipe your fingers off before flopping back into bed. you don't make another move to touch yourself, instead stare into the very dimly lit room in what he can fully understand is frustration. he even hears your sniffle a little bit.

his heart gives a painful little tug. he watches you close your eyes and obviously attempt to fall asleep. his own cock is throbbing by now and he's sure you're uncomfortably wet.

"got a problem, love?" he asks softly, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

he sees you jump and your eyes snap open before you look at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. how cute, he thinks.

"si?" you whisper, "did i wake you? i'm sorry..."

he can actually hear the guilt in your voice as you apologize, "all your tossin' and turnin', not a man in the world woulda been able to sleep through it," you look even guiltier and he reaches out to place his hand over yours that's on your stomach above the blanket, "thought you went and took a shower to take care of that problem?"

you look almost defeated and shrug, then a look of embarrassment crosses your face and he feels the need to click his tongue and tell you none of that, but you speak before he can, "couldn't um...you know...finish..."

he's quiet when you say that. he could tell, obviously. the way you pulled your hand out of your panties and nearly cried in frustration. he huffs through his nose in a noise you mistake for annoyance and give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile.

"sorry, si," you mutter, leaning over to kiss his nose, "i'll be still so go back to sleep, 'kay?"

he watches you lean over and flick the switch to your little nightlight, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness at last. he feels you shift one last time and then nothing.

he should simply go to sleep, he needs sleep. he's got a busy day ahead of him, like always. his hard on is starting to flag from watching the sad little display of you so embarrassed and disheartened. he could easily close his eyes and drift off, get his precious z's in.

but he just can't. knowing that you're going to sleep with sticky panties and completely unsatisfied because you can't seem to make yourself cum despite how badly he knows you need it.

he sits up and leans over you, hearing you make a confused little noise before he flicks the dim little light back on. you're staring at him in confusion but he doesn't offer any answers as he grabs your arm and hoists you out of the blanket you'd nestled yourself under. you let him manhandle you until you're sitting on his lap with him laid back in his pillows still.

"let's get this off you, love," he mutters, hands sliding up the t-shirt of his that you wore.

you make another confused noise but let him strip the fabric off of you anyway, "si..? what are you doing?"

"what do you think?" he asks, shoving the blankets away from him and haphazardly tugging the band of his sweats down so his half-hard cock is freed.

"y-you should be sleeping, si, really--" he interrupts you by forcing you to stand on your knees so he can tug your panties down and off.

you're so wet that there’s a mess of stickiness that clings to the fabric, making little strings that break when he pulls them down all the way.

"fuckin' hell, love," he whispers, his cock quickly hardening completely once again against his stomach, "you were plannin' to sleep while you were this fuckin' wet?"

you look sheepish again, "w-what else was i supposed to do..?"

he grits his teeth because he knows you're right; he hadn't exactly done anything except brush you off and tell you to deal with it yourself. it wasn't like he gave you the green light to ask him for help.

"sorry, love," he whispers, cupping the back of your head to tug you down for a kiss, "shouldn't 'ave been such an ass."

"wha-?" you shake your head, "you weren't, si. you were tired and i was just bein’ too needy."

he huffs out of his nose and grabs your hips, shifting so you sit directly on top of his heavy cock. your eyes roll back a little at the feeling of his hot length against your sensitive cunt.

"nah, was bein' selfish," he mutters, "knew you wanted it 'nd i chose to sleep. you even told me you just wanted to be close with me and i shrugged it off. i've missed you too, love, you know?"

"really?" you ask softly and his heart gives that painful throb in his chest again. had you doubted him? that didn't sit right with him.

"course..." he whispers, biting his lip. he wasn't used to being vulnerable and open with his feelings, so being put on the spot while telling you how he missed you made an uncomfortable feeling stir in his chest.

quickly understanding this, you shift against his cock, grinding your hips back and forth in smooth, slow motions. it makes his head sink back into the pillow; you're so wet that you slide effortless against him, covering him in a coat of slick juices. your motions also make his foreskin slide along his length as well, making him twitch every time the leaky head is stroked.

"fuckin' hell..." he groans through gritted teeth, "c'mon love, you do the work, yeah?"

you desperately nod your head and stand on your knees, gripping his cock to line him up with your entrance. he stops you for a moment with a hand on your wrist, a little glare in his eyes.

"you need prep?" he asks, a sweet little question that makes your heart melt despite yourself.

simon was a lot to take, thick and long. he always bumped against your back wall before he even fully bottomed out. the stretch was a sting that always made you both pause until it went away lest it hurt too much to continue.

you shake your head, "i-i used the toy and my fingers...earlier..." you remind him.

his grip on your wrist slackens at that and you take the chance to slowly and carefully sink down on him, jaw dropping open at the feeling of being stretched so fully by him after however many days.

you're greedy and needy, not even pausing as you quickly descend and take more and more of him in. it's faster than you usually handle it and he moves quickly to grab your hips and stop you, intent on making you take a second to adjust before taking all of him that you can.

you make a strangled noise akin to a sob in your chest and look at him with angry little tears in your eyes. the sight makes him pause and his cock twitch.

you slap his hands away harshly and continue taking all of him despite his apparent protests. he's taken aback by the little show of aggression.

"shit, love," he growls, brows furrowed, "is that how it is then?"

you nod your head and let your eyes roll back. it wasn't very often that you got to ride him, simon was more of a 'do all the work' type of man but this position definitely allowed you to take more of him than you usually could when he had you folded up into whatever positions he wanted.

once you took him as deep as you could, your hand flew down to your clit and with a few little circles and slow grinds of your hips, you were clamping down around him and cumming with a cute little squeal and a gasp.

he felt you soak him with your cum, his eyes locked onto where he was buried deep inside you. when you pulled up, he could see the creamy ring of cum around the base of him.

his head slammed back against the bed as he gripped your hips, your hands on his flexed forearms for support as you began to fuck yourself on his cock with a vigor he hadn't ever seen from you.

you hadn't ever been this needy before. seeing you fucking yourself completely stupid on his cock, only moans and sobs of his name to be heard besides the underlying squish of your cunt being stretched and stuffed.

"fuck!" he groaned, feeling the way your pussy clutched and pulsed around him as you angled your hips just right to hit that tender little spot that made you gush messily around him.

you once again slap his hands away from your hips. he glares at you, preparing to scold you for being such a brat but then you do something that shocks the words right out of him.

you grab his wrists and pin them beside his head on the pillow, using the grip as leverage to really begin fucking yourself back onto his cock. his jaw falls open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat as he watches you work yourself to another peak.

your tits bounce from the way you fuck yourself back on him and he wishes he could reach up and cup them, pinch and roll your hard nipples just the way you like. but he doesn't want to break this little hold you have on him, pinning him down like you think you're in charge. it's cute, really, the little show you're putting on.

it's clear he's denied you so much this whole time that you've simply snapped and now you're determined to get your fill until you've orgasmed so much that your little brain just melts. and he's more than happy to be there, not even lifting a finger and merely being a nice, hard cock for you to cream all over.

he has to admit, it's alluring to see his sweet little love acting so desperate.

he doesn't know how many orgasms you work out of yourself, but it's enough to have covered his cock and thighs thoroughly in your cum. he doesn't mind. you've always been quite a bit messy when he made you cum. but you've never came this hard and this much before. he's not even sure you're giving yourself a chance to come down from one high before you've worked yourself into another.

he's speechless, content to just lay back and watch the desperate show you've put on for him until your movements finally begin to slow.

you go from bouncing on him and pinning him down to grinding against him and cupping your own tits. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout and he's sure your thighs are fucking burning by now. you're panting and your eyes are half lidded as you stare down at him.

for the first time in a long time, simon feels...small. you had just fucked yourself better than he ever had using his own cock. the thought of that made him twitch inside you and he sees the corner of your lip twitch up and you smile at him. the heady, frustrated, desperate look in your eyes fades and you look so satisfied. the weight that he hadn't realized had been on your shoulders is gone and you lean down.

he tilts his head up and meets your lips in a kiss. your tits squish against his chest and he finally moves his hands from the position you'd pinned him in earlier and he smooths his palms down the length of your back, making you shudder.

"gonna let me cum now, love?" he asks breathlessly.

when you nod, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back, simon pins your legs open with a rough grip under your thighs and begins working his hips.

it's clear you're painfully sensitive; your clit is swollen and tender, your whole body twitching when he meanly presses his roughened thumb against it. your hands once again find purchase on your tits and you squeeze and tug at your nipples.

he fucks you at a leisurely pace, listening to the filthy, clicking noises coming from the complete mess that you've made of your cunt. your eyes roll back and he rolls your tender little bud under his thumb until you seize up in one final orgasm that makes you kick your feet out helplessly.

“there it is…” he coaxes, tossing his head back to moan when you tighten like a vice around him, “so good f’me. that’s it, ride it out, little love.”

you've no choice but the ride out this final, painful orgasm on his cock as he fucks you through it to his own end. he spills inside you, pumping his hips a few more times, watching his own cum mix with the mess of your own that oozes and drools out of your gooey little cunt.

you flop against the bed when he pulls out, both of you panting and you trembling from the overstimulation.

he flops down onto his side of the bed with a sigh, eyes finally growing heavy once again as his exhaustion catches up with him alarmingly fast.

usually, he would clean you up and fix the mess you both left behind but he just truly can't bring himself to even consider getting out of bed. so he tugs you against him, listening to you whimper when more cum drools out of you from the way you involuntarily clench from the continued aftershocks of your numerous orgasms.

he hums and holds you close, dragging the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of you, kissing your forehead before tucking your head against his chest.

he would deal with the aftermath of the night tomorrow, when you both have clear heads. though, he's sure you're going to be sore. he can't wait to see it, he muses.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[slutzforbueckers]

you should do something with paige just having a really bad day and coming home and her wife and daughter are just happy shes home. like her wife and daughter made dinner and cookies and its just a very cute and soft moment.

you make it better

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: fluff

synopsis: paige was having a bad day until she came home to her favorite girls.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

you were helping your daughter, lani, wash her hands after she helped make cookies and dinner. she had been begging to help in the kitchen for the past week. you were unsure of letting her help because of how young she still was but you decided to agree and it turned out to be more fun and easy than you thought. there were plenty of laughs and oopsies but watching her laugh and smile make it worth it.

“would you like to help mommy set the table?” you asked, bending down to her level as you dried her hands with a hand towel. another smile broke out on her face and she nodded her head quickly. you smiled back and stood up, taking her hand and grabbing a hand full of spoons and forks in the other. lani helped set the table, you handed her three spoons and she ran around the table delicately placing each spoon with each plate.

paige was due to be home soon, you had checked your watch almost every 5 minutes to see how much longer. you had only had a chance to talk to her a few times throughout the day, it was tough practice and you could tell—even through text—she wasn’t having a good day.

“mommy! you forgot the sharp ones!” lani jumped at your legs, her small hands tugging at the lavender sundress you wore. “i can get them! i can get them!” she exclaimed, already running back towards the kitchen.

you quickly caught up to her and caught her hand, laughing softly. “let me get those. why don’t you go get your picture for mama? she’ll be here soon.”

lani’s eyes grew wide—her smile wider and just like paige’s—and she ran off to her bedroom. you shook your head as you heard the soft thud of her small feet hitting the floor came to a stop. just as you were pulling the butter knives from the drawer the sound of keys filled your ears and the click of the door unlocking.

you quickly sat the knives down and made your way to the entryway, lani running in behind. paige barely had time to set her bags down before lani was jumping on her, wrapping her arms and legs around her the best she could.

“mama!”

“hi, sweet girl.” paige smiled and kissed the side of her head. you watched them with a smile, you could tell paige was tired but still she kept a smile on her face for her little girl. paige’s eyes met yours and she moved lani to her hip, opening her free arm for you. you stepped closer, leaning into her and wrapped your arms around her waist the best you could.

paige leaned her forehead against yours. "i missed you," she spoke quietly. you pulled back just enough to press a quick peck to her lips.

"missed you too." you smiled against her lips and pale one more quick peck before pulling away completely. lani tapped paiges shoulder quickly and shoved the picture she drew in her face.

"look what i made," paige pulled back slightly and took the picture in her free hand, holding it out so she could see. the picture was nothing but stick figures and colorful scribbles but still paige thought it was the most amazing piece of art she'd ever seen.

"wow lani, you really made this?" she gasped and turned to look at the squirming 4 year old. lani nodded her head quickly, a proud smile on her face. "this is amazing, i'm going to put it on the fridge."

paige turned to look at you and you both shared a silent moment, all the beautiful moments throughout your life that led to this very moment flashing between you. it was a difficult journey but you made it—together—and it was all worth it. you took a step closer to them and ran your fingers through your daughters curls.

"how about you go wash your hands? mama and i will get the food." you spoke gently. lani slithered out of paiges arms and took of running to the bathroom. paige let out a tired chuckle as she watched the little girl run off. you wrapped your arms around her again, completely this time. "long day?"

paige leaned into you, dropping her head onto your shoulder, and nodded. she let out a deep breath, feeling like all the weight of the day was slowly being lifted to longer she was in your arms. "so long, coach was on one today. i'm so glad to be home, y'all make it better."

"we're glad you're home too, paige. we missed you so much." you turned your head slightly and kissed the side of her head. “we’ll take a bath later and you can tell me all about it.”

“that sounds good.” paige mumbled into the crook of your neck before she lifted her head and pressed her lips to yours, her hands finding your waist.

the moment was short lived, the soft shuffle of feet breaking you apart. lani rounded the corner and wrapped herself around your legs. paige smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.

“ready to eat, princess?” paige asked, bending down to her level. lani jumped up and down and grabbed a hold of paige’s hand, already beginning to drag her towards the dining room.

“we made cookies, let’s haves cookies!!” she looked up at paige with those big, pleading eyes. lani was already looking around paige to see your face, knowing that you would say dinner first.

paige looked back at you with a sly grin and turned back to her daughter, badly whispering: “only one, don’t tell mommy.”

[l0vergirlwrites]

it’s so sweet ; spencer reid

synopsis: after coming back home from a late shift, you find a sleepy spencer ready to do your evening routines together.

warnings: established relationship between spencer & nonbaufem!reader, just pure fluff & comfort, sleepy!spencer (he’s so cute ugh)

it was just past eleven o’clock when you hitched a ride home from a trusted co-worker, briskly walking up the apartment steps & fishing your keys from your pocket. you’ve been anxious to go home all day due to the dipping negative temperatures, cold air nipping at exposed skin with each gust as ice solidified in clusters along the sidewalk.

you were tired of winter. but so much more tired of late shifts.

within five minutes, you were on your floor in record time, relief filling your bones as you breathed in the comfort of your apartment, letting your purse hang on the closet door knob, your coat hanging slightly haphazardly on the rack, & keys swished into the bowl where spencer’s resided.

following your routine, you washed your hands, let your coffee tumbler soak in the sink, & quickly made your way through the apartment to find your boyfriend.

you hoped he was awake, but secretly knew that if the amber light wasn’t on in the bedroom, he was likely passed out.

& you were right.

spencer was fast asleep, pink lips slightly parted to let puffs of air escape, fingers gently curled around a book with a knitted blanket covering his body. his mismatched socks peeked through the bottom; one was forest green with orange leaves, the other was navy blue with gray polkadots.

he had fallen asleep on the wall seat, temple pushed against the glass window as his back rested flush to the cold wall. you couldn’t imagine that would be comfortable for more than a few hours. so you walked over to his sleeping form, lifting a hand to brush away some hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“spence, i’m home” you spoke low & sweet, letting your hand rub his shoulder to gently wake him up.

he hummed at the feeling, taking a few moments to become conscious & let his eyes open, taking your face in while his brain processed the stimuli—you’re home.

“i was waiting up for you… must’ve fallen asleep…” he blinked slow, letting a yawn escape his lips before taking your hand in yours, a sleepy smile overtaking his face.

you squeezed his hand. “it’s okay, your body must’ve needed the extra rest” he nodded at your words, agreeing as he rubbed his eyes.

“did you have a good shift?” spencer implored, tossing the book to his feet so you could sit on his lap, his fingers craving the warmth of your thighs & the plush of your skin. his heart strings physically pulled when you leaned into his touch gratefully.

you shrugged your shoulders, letting out an exhausted sigh. “it was alright. just happy to be home” you emphasized, eyes dancing over his face like you hadn’t already had it memorized in your mind.

you liked coming home to him.

“me too” he quickly agreed, pulling you closer so he could kiss you, to express how much he missed you in the hours you were gone & because he just loved having the privilege to do this with you.

“did you have dinner?” he thoughtfully asked with his forehead against yours, heart thumping when your hands played with the v-neck of his sweater vest.

you nodded. “packed some of the left over thai from last night” you got that sticky feeling in your chest when spencer hummed, stroking your cheek in a way that made you never want him to stop.

“did you shower yet?” you asked him, seeing him shake his head.

“c’mon” you stood up, interlocking your fingers with his. “we can conserve water… if you want” you gave him an out, but he didn’t take it. he let you lead him to your shared bathroom, where your toothbrushes stood side by side, where your hair ties laid next to his face wash, where your drawers were colour coded & organized to a t.

the next twenty minutes were filled with light talk of your work days, each of you taking turns washing the other’s skin, spencer’s hand not faltering from your waist, you fingers fixing his hair behind his ears when some locks escaped the ponytail you tied, hugging with towels on, taking turns using the sink, spencer making faces at you in the mirror while you brushed your teeth—just the good stuff that made you feel lucky.

“are you off tomorrow?” he asked once you both returned back to the bedroom, bodies shed of towels & dawned in respective pyjamas.

yours was an old t-shirt of spencer’s from the bureau & sleep shorts, while his was one of your band tees & boxer shorts.

“uh huh, off until monday—but don’t you have—“

“hotch is giving me the weekend off”

you looked to him with surprise once you both got comfy under the sheets, your body basically draped over spencer’s but he didn’t mind one bit. his hands were comfortably on you within an instant, rubbing circles into your skin.

“really? is that what you want?”

he nodded, biting his lip between his teeth as he smiled. he was never one to accept a day from work off so easily, but with you in his life, they allowed him to get to spend quality time with you. what more could he want?

“yeah” he responded without missing a beat, as if it was the easiest question to answer. “we can do whatever you want, baby”.

you couldn’t help but pout in awe. he knew how much getting time off work to properly spend with you meant. it was a sacrifice you cherished.

“we’ll come up with plan in the morning, but i don’t really care—just as long as your with me” you said honestly, eyes growing sleepy as the heat radiating from spencer’s body cocooned you.

he nodded his head, pressing one last kiss to your hair. “sounds like a great plan”.

letting your eyes fall closed, ear pressed to his heart, spencer’s heartbeat lulled you sleep, a faint smile staying in place on your lips.

“love you” you whispered, still feeling the circular movements of his hand on your arm.

spencer contently hummed, eyes closed, only thinking of you behind his lids, “love you too”.

[pupsec]

𐔌 、kakashi　ﾉ　you quietly play the role of a dutiful wife—until you uncover his secret stash of smut and realize your aloof husband might just be a filthy, pervert 𓈒　◟

cw: arranged marriageノdubcon undertones ノ obsession ノ explicit content ノdark themes ϑϱ

୨ৎ dead dove: do not eat！minors, blank & ageless blogs will be blocked ୨୧ pt. 2

You married him under sakura blossoms and a sky the color of secrets.

Kakashi Hatake never looked at you during the ceremony. His Sharingan was covered, his visible eye lowered, posture slack like this whole thing bored him. A political bond, they called it. A strategic arrangement. You were nothing but a name on a scroll, a signature in ink. You half expected him not to show up. Maybe a crow with a note tied to its leg instead—Sorry, too busy training. Best wishes.

But he came. He said "I do" with a shrug.

You moved into his quiet house tucked into a hill on the edge of the village, where the wind always carried the scent of pine and earth, and the porch creaked with age. He gave you the larger bedroom, disappeared into the smaller one down the hall. Never touched you. Barely spoke.

"Don’t trouble yourself," he murmured the first day, not even glancing up from his book. "I won’t get in your way."

So you didn’t. You dusted. Swept. Folded. You ironed his uniforms and laid them out with care. Cooked meals and left them covered with a little note—If you're hungry. Most went untouched.

You tiptoed around him like you were afraid to wake a sleeping wolf. A wife in name only. You kept your head down, told yourself it was fine. Maybe even peaceful.

Until one day you were cleaning.

It was raining. The sound of it tapping against the window made the silence heavier somehow. Kakashi wasn’t home. An early mission. You hummed as you dusted the shelf in his spare room—a room you weren’t supposed to touch, really, but something about it called to you today. Maybe it was the crooked frame. Maybe it was boredom. Or maybe it was the little pull of curiosity that always got girls like you in trouble.

You tugged the drawer open.

And froze.

Stacked. Neatly. Organized alphabetically, even. Rows of smutty novels. The kind with aggressively suggestive titles and lurid covers—The Icha Icha Chronicles: Lust in the Mist, Kunoichi Heat 3: Forbidden Jutsu. One was dog-eared right in the middle. You flipped it open before your brain could stop your hands, and—

The scene inside made your face go hot.

Someone tied up. Begging. Calling the man sensei. Pages sticky from too much use. You dropped it like it bit you and stumbled back.

Kakashi—stoic, unreadable Kakashi—was reading this filth?

You snapped the drawer shut and ran.

You didn’t bring it up. How could you?

You just scrubbed harder. Smiled tighter. Tried to push it out of your head. But then your panties started to vanish.

Not the plain ones. Not the folded cotton briefs. No—it was the delicate lace, the soft silk, the ones you only wore when you were feeling fragile and feminine. You thought maybe you misplaced them. Laundry mistake. Until it kept happening. Until you knew.

Then it was the scent. On the laundry. Faint, but there—something musky and warm and male. You started doing your laundry in secret.

And then one night, you caught him.

You woke for no reason. A soft creak. A breath. The door cracked open.

You pretended to stay asleep.

You kept your breaths slow, steady, heartbeat hammering in your ears as you felt his presence at the edge of the bed. So close. So quiet. Something shifted on the sheets.

You waited until he was gone to peek.

Your underwear drawer. Still open.

The next morning, Kakashi sipped his tea like nothing happened. Same bored look. Same lazy posture. The man who used your panties as a midnight addiction was smiling politely and asking if you wanted more sugar in your tea.

Your head spun.

How could he look at you like you were glass, when he was sneaking into your room just to press his face into your scent? How could he act so unaffected, when the flush on his throat betrayed something molten just under the skin?

You started watching him. Closer. The twitch of his fingers when you bent over. The way his eye followed the line of your throat when your robe slipped just a little. You tested it—dropped a towel "accidentally," bent slowly. Kakashi didn’t move.

But he stared.

When you turned to look at him, his nose was buried in that damned book again. As if he didn’t just imagine bending you over the table and fucking you till your knees gave out.

He was a ghost in the day and a deviant in the dark.

And you were the good little wife who smiled and served tea.

But you felt it now. The tension curling around both of you like smoke. The sharp awareness. The way his voice dipped low when he said thank you for breakfast, like it had a thousand meanings under it. The way your thighs clenched when he stood too close.

One night, you found a pair of your panties—worn, damp, and warm—folded under your pillow.

Your hands shook. You didn’t throw them out.

You tucked them away.

You weren’t sure who you were becoming.

But it made you wet just to think about it.

[girlgenius1111]

study buddy part 2

ingrid engen x mapi leon & engen!reader solstråle engen ft @wileys-russo 's fresa sol and fresa try again, despite fresa's broken foot and grouchy attitude. sol's wrist causes her problems.

—

“She slipped on blood?” You echoed, feeling lightheaded at the vague image in your mind. Mapi chuckled, rolling her eyes at your squeamishness. 

“Yes, and then she fell again in the shower, but I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Anyway, her ankle is completely broken, so maybe you can offer to drive her to your next study date?” 

“It’s not a date María.” You said immediately, though your insistence only seemed to make Mapi’s grin grow. “And fine. I can drive her.” 

You could drive Fresa, no problem. It wasn’t like you were already anxious about seeing her again. And even if you were anxious, it was just about how horribly the first study session had gone, and how important getting good grades going forward was. Nothing else. 

“Good. That saves Fresa the embarrassment of Alexia fireman carrying her into the library.”  

That was another part of it. You were sure Fresa hadn’t mentioned to her eldest sister how rude you’d been at your first meeting with her, or you would no longer be breathing. You’d asked a few of your sister’s teammates about Fresa, and they’d all had nice things to say. Above all, though, they’d mentioned that Alexia was fiercely overprotective of her baby sister. If you messed up again, it was possible Fresa would tell Alexia and Alexia would… kill you, probably. 

You reached for the coffee Mapi had made for you, contemplating how you were really going to have to be on your best behavior this time. Ingrid walked in, then, running a minute late as she always seemed to be in the morning. 

“Are you talking about your study date with Fresa?” She asked, stopping to kiss the top of your head as she spoke. 

“It’s not a date!” You repeated, grimacing at Ingrid and Mapi’s exchanged smirks. 

“Ready, amor?” María asked, opening the drawer, getting out a tide to go stick and holding it in your direction just as a few drops of coffee dripped off the rim of the mug, right onto your shirt.  

The corner of Ingrid’s lips twitched as she watched you grab the stain remover, grumbling as you tried to get the dark stain out of your white t-shirt.  

“Yep. Bag, coffee, watched Sol spill. I’m good to go.” 

They chuckled as they headed for the front door, Mapi pausing to slap your hand down just as you raised it to flip them off. 

“Enjoy your date!” Mapi called, but the door shut before you could shout back that it was not a date. 

You pulled out your phone, typing out and deleting the text as least five times before you settled on something. 

Heard you broke your ankle. I can drive you to the library? 

Dropping your phone back onto the counter, you checked your watch, trying to judge if you had enough time for a trip to the climbing gym before school started. You didn’t think so, especially considering you’d been late to your first class everyday this week because the new kid’s locker was right next to yours and he’d needed help getting the combination lock open. 

Just as you were about to leave [so you’d have enough time to help Marc get into his locker], your phone dinged. It was a relief that neither Ingrid nor Mapi were there to see how quickly you picked your phone up. 

That would be lovely, thank you! 

You frowned. Lovely. That did not sound like Fresa. The easy acceptance didn’t seem like her, either. Before you could analyze further, another text appeared. 

Sorry, that was my friend with my phone. She thinks I have an attitude problem. You can drive me. I guess.

That sounded much more like Fresa. 

Well I’m not arguing with the attitude thing. I’ll pick you up at 4:15. 

You hit send before you could think too hard about what you’d typed. Mapi had told you to be yourself, that she was sure you and Fresa would get along if you just relaxed a little. That’s all you were doing. 

Your car better not be as unorganized as your backpack. 

Somehow, it didn’t seem as critical as it had the other day, when Fresa had insulted your organization skills. 

As you wish, Dr. Putellas 

With a final few pets and kisses for Scout, you left the house and locked the door behind you. Maybe Mapi was right.

—

Expecting the school day to drag, you were surprised to find that it flew by. Especially considering that it wasn’t often that you… remained at school the whole day. Before you knew it, you were pulling into Fresa’s driveway, curiously studying the house that one of the world’s best footballers grew up in. Though you lived with María and Ingrid and knew how talented they were, you were always a bit in awe of Alexia. 

Before you had the chance to grab your phone and text the Spaniard that you were there, the front door swung open. You watched, amused, as Fresa’s distinctly irritated face appeared in the doorway, both of her sisters hovering behind as she crutched her way out of the house. There was a brief pause as Alexia seemed to be trying to lift Fresa down off the front porch, and you bit back a smile as Fresa pointed aggressively back to the door, and hopped down the step herself. Alexia and Alba watched from the porch as Fresa neared the car, much like a parent would watch their baby take its first steps. On instinct, you got out of the driver's seat and walked around to open the passenger door. You missed the look of surprise on Fresa’s face, awkwardly saying hello as you fixed your attention on the ground. 

“Solstråle.” Alexia called, hurrying over and trying to steady Fresa, though her hands were slapped away. 

“Alexia, go away.” Fresa hissed, hopping into the front seat and trying to shove her crutches in with her. 

“Hi Alexia.” You said quietly, wrestling the crutches away from Fresa and throwing them in the backseat of the car. 

“She isn’t supposed to walk without the crutches, and make sure she elevates her ankle once you get to the library.” 

You bit back a smirk at the choice words Fresa mumbled under her breath, turning to Alexia. 

“Don’t worry, Mapi briefed me. We’ll be good!” 

Fresa was still grumbling, this time something that sounded like kiss ass, but you ignored her knowing very well how frustrating it could be when your sister treated you as if you were a baby. 

“Bueno. Be careful, Fres, te quiero.” Alexia said with a satisfied nod, reaching past you to pinch Fresa’s cheek. The younger girl looked as though she wanted to bite her sister’s fingers, but instead she just grimaced. 

“Te quiero, idiota.” Fresa replied grumpily. 

—

The car ride started off quiet. And awkward. You knew you’d been too quiet last time, mostly because you were embarrassed at how lost you were with your schoolwork and because Fresa’s attitude hadn’t exactly put you at ease. Now, you were trying to be less quiet but started to overthink every single thing you could say. It had been 7 minutes, and you'd opened your mouth to speak at least 10 times before shutting it again. 

You hated talking. You wished you were back at home, curled in the cozy chair in the corner of your room with Scout, finishing the nature documentary on elephants you’d started last night before falling asleep. Fresa was silent, too, which didn’t really seem like her. Last time, she hadn’t really stopped talking. She seemed to be in just as bad of a mood though, which you decided to attribute to her broken foot and not your presence. You’d been horribly grumpy when you’d broken your wrist, so you could understand. 

“How long in the moon boot?” You asked, so suddenly Fresa jumped a little in her seat. 

“A month.” Fresa replied shortly. 

You nodded, fixing your eyes on the road. “I broke my wrist a bit ago and I was in a cast for a while. It sucks.” 

“At least you could walk.” Her voice was more casual, now, which you took as a good sign. 

“Yeah, but Ingrid wouldn’t let me do anything with either hand. She wouldn’t let me hike or cut my own food up with a fork and knife or walk the dog–”

“You have a dog?” Fresa interrupted. 

For the first time, your face broke into a wide smile as you nodded, eyes flickering to the passenger seat. “I do! Scout. He’s a border collie.” Pulling to a stop at a red light, you tapped your phone screen and showed Fresa your wallpaper; Scout at the top of your favorite hiking trail, his mouth open as he panted almost as though he was smiling. Fresa smiled then, too, softening slightly as you clearly swelled with pride talking about your Scout. 

You pulled into the parking lot of the library, then, parking as close to the doors as you could so Fresa wouldn’t have to go far on her crutches. You were out of the car so fast after turning it off that Fresa didn’t have time to unbuckle her seatbelt before you were opening the back door and grabbing her crutches. You opened her door, then, holding the crutches steady as she got out of the car, and she was all ready to yell at her to stop hovering when you turned, letting her shut the car door behind herself and follow you towards the entrance. If there was anything you were clear on, it was that Fresa’s sisters had surely been suffocating her since she got hurt. You weren’t about to make her angrier by doing the same. 

—

You hated how hard it was to focus. This infuriating, smart, beautiful girl was just about talking your ear off, but nothing felt like it was processing. Your knee bounced, and you tapped your pencil rapidly against your notebook, your attention not on the formula Fresa was taking you through, but instead on the lighter golden streaks of hair framing her face, no doubt from time in the sun. The freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, and the way her fingers curled around the pencil in her hand-

“Engen!” She said, louder this time. You snapped out of whatever trance you’d been in, feeling your cheeks flush. “Are you paying attention?” 

You nodded, somehow unable to find your voice. 

“Is it hard for you to focus?” Fresa asked, her voice a touch softer now. There was concern on her face, and it made you want to squirm. And run. Run far far away. Away from this pretty girl and the way she seemed to see right through the mask you put on for strangers. 

“No. I’m fine, this is just fucking boring.” You snapped, wanting to snatch back both your words and the tone they’d been said with as soon as they were out of your mouth. 

Fresa gazed at you, unimpressed. She had the aura about her that her sister did, one that meant business and took absolutely no shit. It was intimidating… and something else that you weren’t quite ready to admit. “Again, I’m doing this as a favor. You could be less of an asshole.” 

You blinked. Had you been an asshole today? You knew you’d just snapped at her, but otherwise you’d remained quiet and done everything she’d asked you to. 

Again, something in the Spaniard’s expression softened, and it felt like something inside your chest was melting. “You’re just… quiet.” She amended. “It feels like you aren’t really listening.” 

“I am.” You promised. “I’m trying, this is just boring and confusing and I don’t remember learning any of this.” You gestured wildly to the formulas Fresa had listed out on top of your piece of paper. She’d put them on there like you should have known them all already, and though you didn’t, you kept that to yourself. 

Fresa’s carefully manicured eyebrows furrowed. “Do you recognize this?” 

You shook your head, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

 “This one?”

Again, you shook your head. Fresa went through all of them, realizing quickly that she’d jumped into a topic that you were not familiar with, assuming that because you were working on the unit in school now, you’d learned the prior information needed. She shifted gears, beginning to talk you through the first formula, noticing that you paid a lot more attention now that the math wasn’t as complicated. 

Once it seemed like you had a handle on the first few formulas, Fresa showed you how to apply them to what you were learning now in class. It was much easier, now, or it was in your head. It was slightly difficult to focus on the numbers in front of you when you knew Fresa was studying you, as if trying to figure something out. 

“What’s school like in Norway, anyway? Did they forget to teach you basic algebra?” She teased. 

You stiffened, forcing a very fake smile onto your lips. You didn’t want to talk about Norway, yet you still felt like you owed her some kind of explanation. 

“I didn’t really pay attention. Or try very hard.” The way you said it made it clear that you wouldn’t be saying anything else, and luckily, Fresa seemed to get that. 

“Well, you’re trying now. That’s cool.” She said casually, flipping the page of your textbook before she began to talk you through another set of problems.

Once again, your eyes were stuck on her face, but your brain focused on her words. She’d simplified it so much, yet it felt like it rang true when she said it. You were trying now. And that was more than you’d ever done before. 

The rest of the study date seemed to fly by. Maybe it was because your school work was coming easier or maybe it was because the tension between you and Fresa was lessened. Either way, you found yourself sitting across from her in the study room with nothing left to do, but you had the strangest feeling that you didn’t want to go just yet. 

“Are you going to the final?” You wondered. Fresa had begun to pack her bag but she paused, leaning back in her chair and nodding. 

“Yeah, with my family. You are going?” 

This time you nodded. “With María and Ingrid, but I’m sitting with Mapi’s parents and her brother.” 

Fresa’s brow crinkled, and you could tell she wanted to ask why you weren’t sitting with your own parents. She didn’t, though, quietly thanking you as you stood and handed over the crutches that were propped up against the wall. 

“Well, I’ll see you there then, before we meet to study again. If you want to study again.” 

It was an effort to make sure your response was measured, not overenthusiastic. “I’d like to. This was helpful even if it was boring.” 

You moved closer to the Spaniard, extending a hand though you didn’t think she’d take your offer of help. Fresa reached out, seemingly without thinking about it, allowing you to help her to her feet. You were eye to eye for a moment, or as eye to eye as you could be with Fresa being several inches shorter than you. The brunette cracked a smile, rolling her eyes.

“Boring,” she scoffed, “boring is watching you try to multiply double digit numbers.” 

She began to crutch out of the room and you followed her, mind searching for the perfect witty reply. A small smile sat on your face as you held the door for Fresa, a smile you didn’t even know was there. 

—

Something was wrong. You’d been dancing around it for weeks. Maybe months, more likely years, but you couldn’t deny it any longer. Something was wrong with your wrist. The doctor at the hospital had tried to tell you back when you’d broken it a few months ago, but you hadn’t wanted to hear it. If you ignored it, the problem would go away. That had been your approach to a lot of things in life, and your wrist pain was one of those things. 

Mapi had asked, once, after the doctor brought it up. Carefully, calmly, she’d inquired as to whether your wrist caused you pain. As confidently as you could, you told her it didn’t bother you much. Mapi had dropped it, then. You weren’t sure if she believed you, or if she just knew better than to try to get you to admit to it, but either way, you hadn’t discussed it with her or Ingrid since. 

But the pain… it was getting worse. You did a lot more climbing these days than you used to. Before, your go to activity to relax was a hike, but it stressed Ingrid out if you went hiking too close to dark or when she was away for a match, so you spent more time in the climbing gym. And climbing always made the ache in your wrist more pronounced. So did writing for too long and sometimes if you picked something heavy up with your bad hand, it would give out. The list of things that bothered it was getting longer, and the pain was getting more intense. 

It was becoming increasingly clear that whatever was wrong with your wrist wasn’t going away anytime soon, no matter how much you ignored it. Your next plan was not to see a doctor. Of course not. That was the worst case scenario. In fact, you’d almost rather cut your hand off yourself than go see a doctor. No, instead you did some googling and took matters into your own hands… well, hand. You got a wrist brace that alleviated some of the pain while climbing; a wrist brace that remained hidden at the bottom of your gym backpack lest your sister or María find it and give you the third degree. When you got home from the gym, or from really anything that made it hurt, you iced. This was more difficult to stick to because Ingrid and Mapi were always hanging around downstairs in the living room when you got back from the gym, and they’d begun to notice that you were grabbing ice after you showered. You said it was for the callouses and burns on your hands from the holds, and they hadn’t pressed. 

Until today, when the pain was worse and your wrist felt a bit swollen. You’d gotten back from the gym a couple hours ago, having stopped there after school. After quitting early because your wrist ached, you’d come home, hopped in the shower, ate dinner with Mapi and your sister, before scurrying upstairs with an ice pack to hide away in your room. 

Either Ingrid had grown suspicious, or she’d just come to check on you like she sometimes did. Either way, she pushed your door open after knocking, [though she didn’t wait for a response, something she did when she thought you were hiding something], and found you lounging on the floor with Scout, your wrist carefully wrapped in the ice pack as you pet your dog with your other hand. 

“Sure, come in, Ingrid.” You called sarcastically, resisting the urge to shove the icepack away from your and hide your wrist somehow. Scrambling to hide now after she’d already seen would only make her more suspicious. Turning to look at your sister, you saw her eyes zero in on your extended arm. 

“What’s wrong with your wrist?” She asked, not even bothering to defend that she’d come in without knocking. 

“Just a bit sore. I twisted it weird at the gym.” It was a lie, and somehow you felt as though Ingrid knew that. Your anxiety began to grow as you searched for something, anything to say, before noticing that while the sweatshirt she’d paired with her favorite pair of sweatpants was very familiar.  “Are you wearing my sweatshirt?” 

Ingrid ignored your accusation, stepping forward and motioning for you to stand up. Though she was wearing your sweatshirt, she very clearly saw that you were trying to distract her. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” 

“I want my sweatshirt back.” You grumbled, getting to your feet and sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“Solstråle.” Ingrid said seriously, her hands finding her hips as she raised an eyebrow in your direction. It was the ‘tell me what’s going on right now’ look, but you weren’t giving in. Not about this. 

“I didn’t think about it. Relax, Ingrid, it’s not a big deal.” You whistled for Scout to join you on the bed, the black and white dog eagerly bounding over and hopping up. You ran your fingers through his fur, purposefully using your bad hand. It took everything in you not to get defensive and start yelling, to act casual and fine, especially when Ingrid was staring at you so intently. 

“You didn’t mention it hurt, and you hid away in your room to ice it. That feels like a big deal to me.” 

“I didn’t hide away, I always come up here after dinner.” You scoffed. “You’re being a bit dramatic, Ing.” 

Ingrid’s nostrils flared, her face flushing as she grew frustrated. She didn’t reply, simply turning on her heel and heading for the hallway. Naively, you thought maybe you’d won. Maybe she’d give up. Instead, she poked her head into the hall, calling out for her girlfriend to come upstairs. By the time María made it up to your room, you and Ingrid were fully in a standoff; Ingrid’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you sat stiffly with your arms crossed, trying not to wince at the pain the position caused. 

“What’s up?” Mapi asked carefully, stepping into the room as though there was a bomb that needed to be diffused inside. 

“Ingrid’s paranoid.” 

“Sol’s wrist is hurting her and she didn’t say anything and I think it’s a much bigger deal than she thinks it is.” 

Mapi blinked, looking between the two of you for a moment. She stepped forward, holding her hand out in your direction. You rolled your eyes, knowing what she wanted, but put your hand into her outstretched one anyway. Her fingers probed around your wrist joint, and you had to concentrate hard so you didn’t wince or cry out. 

“What happened?” 

“I twisted it on the wall. It’s fine, just a bit sore.” 

Mapi looked doubtful, pressing her index finger into a particularly painful spot. You yelped, wrenching your hand away. Ingrid stepped closer, no triumph on her face even as she’d clearly been proven right. She wished she was wrong. 

“Just twisted it?” Ingrid questioned. 

You glared at the two of them, cradling your wrist close to your chest. “Yes. Twisted it. It hurts a little bit. More when you poke it like that. It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t matter, now get out of my room.” 

It was harsh, even for you. Mapi sighed, shaking her head slightly at you. She hated when you yelled at Ingrid, and she hadn’t heard you be so irritated in a while. Your sister, though, didn’t look discouraged. Her eyes were still fixed on yours, and you almost wished she looked angry instead of the worry clouding her features. 

“Do not speak to me like that. I’m just worried about you.” Ingrid began, your guilt increasing.

It almost worked, but the pain in your wrist and the guilt in your chest didn’t compare to the anxiety you felt at the prospect of admitting what was wrong. You were strong enough to handle this yourself. you’d done it before, and you’d do it again. You didn’t need anyone’s help. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been rude. But I’m fine, Ingrid.”

Some of the tension left your sister’s frame, her eyes softening in a way that almost made you break. 

“Then promise me your wrist is fine, that you just twisted it.” She asked calmly. 

You only hesitated for a moment. “I promise.” 

The lie left a bad taste in your mouth, and what was worse? You could tell from the disappointed looks on both Ingrid and María’s faces that they knew you were lying. Neither of them pushed further, though. They knew how stubborn you could be. You wouldn’t talk to them until you were ready, and there was nothing they could do to speed that process along. 

You unequivocally did not deserve the hug Ingrid wrapped you in, but you let it happen anyway. She squeezed you tight, pinched your cheek like she always did, and stepped aside.The routine repeated, María giving you a searching look before hugging you as well. They said goodnight every night; there wasn’t an evening you went to bed without them checking on you. It felt like you were throwing that care back in their face by lying, yet you were completely powerless to do anything else. You couldn’t tell the truth. You wouldn’t. 

As they left your room, you flopped back onto your bed. Your wrist hurt, and your sister was probably still upset with you. But your mind was lingering on neither of those things. Instead, you were thinking about the Champions League final coming up. And who you’d see there. 

—

😁🫶🏻🙂🥰 🍓☀️🍓☀️🍓☀️🍓☀️🍓☀️🍓☀️🍓☀️ [i hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!]