#you have no clue what you’re talking about

[yuyusbabygirl]

Strikes and Spares (18+)

pairing: bad boy!yunho x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

content warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI, fluff, oral (fem receiving), yunho is whipped for reader

summary: you were minding your own business when your small town's bad boy came up and just declared he was picking you up for a date

Yunho was standing by his locker when you walked into school that morning. He watched as you opened your locker which was close to his own and took out your books. The look on his face wasn’t his usual scowl of annoyance that everybody in school knows and fears. Instead his eyes softened when he saw you and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red.

San was watching him and knew immediately who showed up by Yunho’s reaction. It had been like this since freshman year. He had to suppress a snicker at Yunho’s lovesick expression. He had always found it hilarious. The school’s bad boy who regularly got into fights, skipped class (except the ones he had with you, of course) and had gotten his first tattoo with 16 was hopelessly in love with a sweet innocent nerd. The best part? You had no clue.

Yunho was snapped out of his thoughts when San nudged his shoulder

“When are you going to stop staring at Y/N and simply talk to her?” San asked him.

Yunho rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve been staring at her like a hopeless fool since freshman year and now it’s our senior year and you have not once asked her out,” San chuckled.

“Shut up,” Yunho grumbled and slammed his locker shut. He knew San was right. But you were… intimidating. He realized how that sounded coming from him but it wasn’t just how pretty you were and how you didn’t seem to be scared of him, it was also just something about you. He knew everyone saw you as a sweet and innocent good girl because you got good grades and liked to dress in feminine clothes but he saw how you suppressed your smile when someone made a dirty or dark joke, he saw the kind of books you read when you thought no one would notice, he saw what music you listened to. And then there was the fact that you always smiled at him despite his reputation because you were so fucking polite. And what does he do? He chokes. Every time. Like a goddamn loser.

He watched as you closed your locker and prepared to go to class. Fuck it. It’s now or never.

Yunho walked over to you which surprised San who thought Yunho was going to creepily stare at you like he always does.

He reached you just when you started walking. “Hey.”

Great going, Yunho. That was the most lame greeting ever, he thought to himself.

You were just about to go to your first class when you heard someone talking to you. You looked up and saw Yunho standing in front of you. You had to look up quite a bit because of the height difference.

“Hey”, you greeted him back and wondered why he was talking to you. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

He put his hands in his pocket, trying to seem relaxed. “What class do you have next?” he asked you. His tone was softer than his usual tone and he could feel the curious stares from the other students around you. Along with the usual downcast looks in case he snapped at them.

“I have English next,” you grab your bag, ready to walk to class.

He grabs your bag from you and puts it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you,” he just states and starts walking with you to your class, ignoring your confused look and the hushed whispers around you as to why he was being nice to you.

You hurried along after him as he just started walking. You were incredibly confused why he suddenly talked to you and was now carrying your bag for you while walking you to class. You knew who Yunho was. He and his friends were the school’s bad boys which frankly you thought was a cliché title. But then again you lived in a smaller town and he does get into fights. It was maybe also the fact that he wore all black and always glared at people. Again, small town stuff. You honestly didn’t mind much. You had always found him attractive but you didn’t think he even knew your name. Both of you had different circles. He was always with his friends, smoking and you had even heard of them vandalizing stuff. Meanwhile you stuck to your two friends you had since freshman year, liked to stay inside and read and got good grades. The likelihood of him knowing you was small. So you thought.

He walked alongside you in the hallway and you noticed people moving out of your way while giving you curious stares. Great. You hated it when people stared at you.

You reached your classroom and he quickly moved to hold the door open for you. You gave him a confused look and walked into the classroom. Yunho put your bag down at your desk and you were so confused by his behavior you didn’t even question how he knew where you sat as he wasn’t in this class.

He turned to you and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he states and walks off.

You nod before realizing what he said.

“Wait- what? For what? Yunho!” you called after him but he just waved and walked to his own classroom. You sat down at your desk, still confused what exactly just happened. You decided to brush it off and simply focus on class.

Meanwhile, Yunho was freaking out internally. He just did that. He finally had the courage to make a move on you, the girl he’s been crushing on since the first day of freshman year. He sat down in his own class, his heart still nearly beating out of his chest. San who sat beside him gave him a questioning look but Yunho simply gave him a grin.

During the day you started to forget about what Yunho said that morning, brushing it off as a joke. He had not talked to you after and you were sure he didn’t even know where you lived. You simply went home and changed out of your skirt into a pair of jeans to take your dog on a walk.

While you walked you passed your elderly neighbor.

“Oh Y/N dear, how are you, sweet girl? Such a sweet girl as always, taking your dog on a walk. And I heard you got a good grade on that exam. Your mother must be so proud,” she chirped.

You smiled at her, internally wishing you could just keep walking. It wasn’t that she was unpleasant but she, like everybody else, assumed that because you did well in school you were sweet and innocent. Sure, you were polite and you liked to study. But innocent is not a word you would use to describe yourself except for the fact that your real life sexual experience was limited. The only people who knew what kind of books you read were your two friends and they regularly blushed when you gave them a recap of a book you recently read. You also liked alternative things and clothes but you were too shy to actually wear it. Nevermind the fact that alternative clothes can be expensive. So you stuck to your skirts and dresses, which you also liked but you were dying to experiment more. Truthfully, you were scared to do so. You knew how people talked in a small town and you just wanted to get this senior year over with before you went to college.

When you got back home you had completely forgotten about Yunho and his comment so you went up to your room and did your homework while listening to some true crime podcast.

At 6:50pm, Yunho parked his car outside your house. He knew he was early but he was nervous. He had this whole date planned out and he didn’t want to fuck it up by being late. He walked up to your porch and rang your doorbell. While he waited, he smoothed down one of his nicer black shirts and ran a hand through his hair.

You opened the door and gave him a confused look. “Yunho? What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?” you asked him.

“I told you I’d pick you up at 7. Are you ready to go?” he chuckled at your expression, ignoring the other question. So maybe he had followed you one or five times. Sue him.

“You were serious?” you asked him incredulously. You noticed he was dressed casual in black jeans and a black shirt but you could tell it was one of his nicer ones as this one didn’t have any car grease stains on it. Not that you knew what his shirts looked like.

“Of course I was serious. Why wouldn’t I be?” he grinned at you and took in your appearance. He loved seeing you in your casual jeans and sweater. The sweater paws you had nearly undid him.

“I didn’t think you even knew where I lived. And I’m not dressed for going out,” you looked down at your jeans.

He chuckled and waved you off, “nonsense, you’re dressed perfectly. Come on.”

Still confused, you put on shoes and grabbed your purse. He opened his passenger door for you and waited until you were buckled up before getting into the driver’s seat. He looked over at you while he started his car and the sight of you finally sitting in his car on the way to a date with him made him as giddy as it made him nervous.

While he drove his hand itched to reach over and grab your thigh but he had to remind himself that this is a first date.

“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned as you looked over at him, trying not to look at his veiny hand gripping the steering wheel.  

He just grinned at you, “It’s a surprise.”

You huffed slightly but let him continue. You weren’t the biggest fan of surprises, you liked being prepared for things but you were trying to let loose a bit.

Yunho parked the car and as you looked outside you could see the neon sign of the local bowling alley. Before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Yunho was out of the car and opened your door for you, holding his hand out for you.

You put your hand in his and Yunho’s skin tingles from the skin contact. He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk inside, going to the front desk to pick out your shoes. You told the clerk your shoe size and after getting your shoes Yunho led you to a bowling lane, putting his hand on your lower back.

“Have you ever been bowling before?” he asked while he put your names into the computer.

“Uh.. like once or twice?” you replied while tying your shoes.

“That’s okay, I can teach you,” Yunho smiled at you and you were once again taken off guard by how sweet he was being.

He gave you a bowling ball, one he knew would be too heavy for you. He chuckled when he saw your arms buckle under the weight.

“Looks like I have to help you,” he teased you and came up behind you, his chest nearly pressing into your back while he helped you hold the ball. You stood in front of the lane, feeling his body heat as he towered over you from behind.

He leaned in to speak softly into your ear, “Focus on the pins and try to throw the ball as close to the middle as you can. Don’t worry about the speed for now.”

You tried to focus on what he was saying, you really did, but his low voice in your ear, his hands helping you hold the ball and the scent of his cologne made you a bit dizzy.

Yunho himself was not faring any better. He was using this as an excuse to touch you but he had not anticipated that it would feel so overwhelming to finally have you this close. He could smell your perfume and the realization that you were so much smaller than him sent his thoughts into a spiral.

Together you threw the ball and six out of the nine pins fell down. The fluttering in your stomach got stronger as you felt Yunho peck your cheek, chaste kiss on your now burning skin.

“Very good. Now you can throw again.”

He let you go for only a moment before he came back with another ball and put it in your hands. His hands didn’t let go of yours as he stepped closer to your back again and walked forwards with you. He leaned down to your ear and whispered instructions to you, which fell on deaf ears, his warm breath hitting your ear and neck nearly making you drop the ball. You managed to compose yourself long enough to throw the ball again with his help.

Two out of the remaining pins fell down and you felt your feet leave the ground as Yunho picked you up and spun you around, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

He reluctantly put you back down and you turned to face him, your flushed cheeks tugging at his heart.

Fuck, he was so whipped for you.

He could hear San’s laughter in his mind as the thought this.

His hands shifted from around your waist to your hips as he looked down at you.

“Seems like you’ll lose, Jeong,” you couldn’t help but tease him.

“Awfully cocky for a beginner, princess,” he smirked down at you. “You sure you wanna test that?”

“Well, you’d have to let me go to actually do your turn,” you quip.

He raised a brow at you and chuckled, “You think I can’t do that with you in my arms? Watch and learn, princess. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing you to his chest and dragged you along with him while he picked up a bowling ball and then walked forward to throw. Your arms wrapped around his waist so that you wouldn’t fall, your feet dragging over the floor.

“Hold tight, tiny,” he chuckled and leaned forward to throw the ball, tilting you back. All pins fell down and he laughed as he tilted you upright again. He smiled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes. The urge to kiss was almost too strong to resist but he knew he had to. He wanted to do this right and not rush it. But fuck, you were making it hard with your eyes staring up at him, your body still pressed to his, the lipgloss on your lips looking so sweet.

He took a step back, his hands shifting to your hips again. The thumping in your chest took a moment to calm down as you both continued the game, with Yunho winning, of course.

After you both finished your drinks and put your own shoes back on, he grabbed your hand in his and walked with you to the front desk to return the shoes. He couldn’t deny that he felt pride being seen with you, holding your hand in public. He had thought of this since freshman year, watching you from afar, always wondering if you’d ever go for someone like him. Now, three years later he was finally on a date with you and, not to toot his own horn, but it was going quite well.

He lead you outside and you both slowly walked to his car. Once you reached it, he used his grip on your hand to turn you to him. You looked up at him, unsure of what to do now. You hadn’t been on many dates but you really did want him to kiss you. Your tongue swept over your lips for a second, his eyes following the movement.

“Fuck, I can’t…” he muttered and you didn’t have any time to figure out what he meant by that when you felt his hand cup your cheek. He leaned down and kissed you. Softly at first, relishing in the soft gasp you let out. His lips moved over yours, his hand caressing your cheek. You gripped his shirt, needing to hold onto something so you wouldn’t do something embarrassing like stumble or squeak. His tongue swiped over your lips, asking for entrance.

He was right. Your lipgloss is the sweetest thing he ever tasted. At least until you opened your mouth and his tongue dove into your mouth. He grunted and pushed you against the side of his car, the hand that was on your cheek going up to tangle in your hair.

One of your hands moved up to his shoulder, holding onto him as you felt his tongue move against yours. You could still taste the soda on him that he had earlier and, shit, it was the best thing you ever tasted and you didn’t want this kiss to end.

He used the grip on your hair to tug your head back, biting slightly at your lip. The moan you let out reverberated in his head and he desperately wanted to hear more. He thanked heaven, hell and whatever the fuck was in between that the parking lot was deserted because there was no way he could hold back the growl that left him as he felt your hand on his nape, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss, slightly breathless, his eyes dark as he took in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. That godforsaken lipgloss smeared.

“You know what this means, right? You’re my girl now,” he declared, his voice rough with barely held back desire.

You couldn’t deny that your thighs clenched at his words but you still said “No.”

His grip on your hair tightened.

“No?” he challenged.

“Ask me.”

You could tell he didn’t expect that. He looked genuinely confused at your statement.

“You declared you were picking me up for a date and I didn’t mind. But you need to ask me to be your girlfriend,” you tried to keep your voice steady. You actually didn’t mind his assertiveness but you still wanted to make him work for it.

You could see the shift in his eyes and how smile got a little bit darker, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Will you be my girlfriend, tiny?” he asked you, pressing closer to you.

“Yes,” you swallowed, this time not being able to keep your voice from breaking.

“Good girl.”

His lips crashed to yours again, pulling your hair and swallowing your moan. He pulled back before he could get carried away but your whine had him twitching in his jeans.

“I don’t wanna screw this up,” he admitted.

“Yunho,” you whispered.

“We don’t have to but, fuck, baby… can I taste you?” he asked and he was ready to beg if that’s what it took. Your small nod was all he needed to open the door to the backseat of his car and push you inside. He climbed over you, pulling the door closed.

His lips found yours again, your fingers tangling in his hair. His self-control was hanging by a thread at this point, finally having you under him, being able to call you his.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you…” he mumbled against your lips.

A small whimper escaped your lips and you pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, running your hands along his shoulder blades. You felt him grab one of your thighs and wrap it around his waist. The bulge pressing against you felt bigger than you expected and had you clenching around nothing.

Could you…? No, fuck… not on the first date.

Yunho’s fingers slipped under your sweater, barely grazing your stomach. He felt your muscles twitch under his touch, making him chuckle against your lips. In one swift move he pulled your sweater up over your head and discarded it onto the floor of his car. His eyes found your breasts, covered by a black bra with a little bow in the middle. A little present just for him.

His focus shifted back to your face as he felt you grab at his arms. He leaned back down and began trailing kisses from your cheek to your jaw, all the way down to your neck. Your pulse was racing, matching his own. He felt like he could drown in the scent of your perfume if you let him. His teeth sank into the skin on your neck, where he made sure to leave a hickey. He wanted people to know the girl everyone believes to be so pure belonged to him, the guy who regularly got into fights.

“Yunho,” you whined into his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he grunted into your ear. His fingers found the button of your jeans, slightly trembling with anticipation. Once he had opened your jeans, he looked up at you with a questioning look. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Use your words, tiny,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Louder.”

“Yes, Yunho,” you whined.

He smirked at the neediness in your voice and began to pull your jeans down your legs. He threw them to the front seat of his car, his hands grabbing the underside of your thighs and spreading your legs to make room for his shoulders.

You felt slightly embarrassed that your panties did not match your bra but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Take your bra off for me,” he commanded, looking up at you from between your thighs and you couldn’t help but obey him.

His lips parted as your boobs were revealed to him. He leaned up, his mouth finding your nipple and gave it a flick with his tongue. You arched up into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He growled and his hands fisting the waistband of your panties until you heard the rip of fabric. You looked down and saw him pocket the ruined panties, now completely bare before him. He shifted himself back down between your legs, both thrown over his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” his voice was dark and heavy with desire. He ran a finger up your slit to your clit, a light teasing touch. He let out a moan and dove down to lick a stripe between your folds, closing his eyes at the taste. There was no way he could ever stop, no way he could ever let you go now. One of his hands held down your hips as you twitched underneath his ministrations.

One hand grabbed at his hair while the other flew up to hold onto the door of his car. You tried to keep your moans down but the feel of his tongue dipping into you made it impossible. Your thighs tightened around his head but it didn’t stop him, if anything it made him more eager to have you fall apart on his tongue. You looked down and saw his eyes looking up at you, watching your every reaction. He sucked at your clit and you pulled at his hair, making him moan into you, the vibrations of his voice making everything feel more intense. It had been a while since someone touched you and it was never this good so you could already tell you weren’t going to last long.

Yunho trailed one hand up to your breast, a finger rubbing softly over your nipple while his tongue alternated between flicking your clit and lapping at your entrance. Every whine and moan fueled his desire for you, wanting to record them so he could listen to them whenever he wanted. He could tell you were close when your thighs shook around his head. He focused his tongue on your clit and pressed a hand down on your stomach.

The pressure on your stomach and the relentless stimulation of your clit and nipple had you coming in seconds. Your fingers pulled at his hair while you moaned his name. Your thighs crushed his head but he didn’t let up. As overstimulation set in, your other hand also flew to his hair and you tried to push him away while you whined.

“Too much, please, Yunho, please…” you whimpered, words barely coherent.

He took pity and pulled his mouth off, licking his lips. His face shone with your juices and despite basically grinding on his face a minute ago you blushed.

He chuckled softly as he saw your flustered expression and slowly crawled up to your face, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him and it made your stomach flutter in need again. He pulled away and you tried to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” he murmured softly while brushing your hair away from your face.

“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. He continued running his fingers through your hair, covering your body with his to keep you from getting cold. He helped you put your bra and sweater back on when you stopped him.

“Wait, what about you?” you questioned, looking up at him.

“You think I’m gonna taste the girl of my dreams and not cum in my pants?” he replied, his voice rough. He saw your eyes drop down to the front of his jeans, your cheeks burning red.

“So don’t worry about me, tiny. I wanted to make you feel good,” he reassured you.

He helped you put your jeans back on, minus your panties that he ripped and stole. Once you had buttoned your jeans, you grabbed his nape and pulled him down to kiss him. He let out a surprised moan and pulled you closer. His lips left yours reluctantly.

“Let’s get you home before your mom kills me,” he chuckled.

[josos24816]

I think the trend ppl find themselves clueing into unconsciously is that the marker "woman" is just so grossly broad as to be meaningless. it doesn't say anything about who u are, what u like or dislike, what causes u support, how u engage with or perceive the world. it doesn't say anything about your relationship to your own sex, sexuality, gender, nothing. what does it actually meaningfully tell you about a person?

I think it’s an unfair demand to ask “woman” to convey that amount of information. It’s a rather rigorous demand to place on any label that someone uses. Labels mean different things to different people — that doesn’t make them meaningless, and the fact that yours and my labels don’t necessarily agree doesn’t make their usefulness zero.

which is that im not sure if a "taxonomic" understanding of gender is actually one which can account for such things as multigender ppl or trans ppl who change their gender.

I’m sorry, I’ve tried writing a response to this point, and I don’t know how. I’ve realized I don’t really understand what even @tpwrtrmnky meant by the “taxonomic” category of woman.

the moment one decides to categorize themself as x, that is the moment of gender transition, insofar as "gender-transition" means something like "linguistic reclassification". or at least that element of it, but it is kinda about the linguistic use-case

Agree 100%. At the end of it all, I think that’s largely what we are playing with when talking about gender and other “identity” terms. It’s a linguistic game*, where language as a pointer to a concept — even (especially) multiple things at once — is what allows each category to be loosely defined.

At the same time, because words are just pointers to ideas, they exist at multiple levels of reality: what it means to you, what it means to your social circle, and what it means societally, are often different. They also have different demands. (E.g. You could easily define a new word and use it for yourself. With some effort, you might get some friends using it. But it’s a different story entirely to get gen-z–level adoption, where you can expect strangers to understand your meaning (almost) perfectly.) The more compatible your labels are with the broader social reality, the less friction you’ll have.

Which is why even if we claim that gender is about self-expression of identity, that’s kinda just at the local level? Because it also has elements in how others perceive you, which is why the claim to being a man/woman/(whatever category) has less friction if you also present in ways that are congruent with what others expect of those categories.

It also means that if you change your gender every day, you can believe that you are 100% that gender, but others (including me) might settle on believing that you are somewhere in-between, because that is a lower-friction conception of you than the one where I have to re-draw my mental representations every day. And we don’t have to agree 100%. (Although you might prefer it if I do, if only because your internal conception of identity is in constant negotiation with the higher levels of social reality.)

*Btw I’m using the word “game,” but I don’t mean to imply it’s any less serious. I just mean that linguistics is an area where multiple individuals interact together, so we can’t ignore the interactions and their effects.

does this also necessarily mean that every time you doubt your x-ness, your x-hood, you actually are y again for a moment?

Sticking with your linguistics theory, it seems like this last question is a return to the more rigorous binary. (Or, even if you have more than 2 categories, it seems you’re still making discrete “bins”.) Discrete just doesn’t work well to conceptualize something as fluid as language.

We switch between linguistic representations all the time, often without realizing it, and rarely claiming that only one is the “true” representation. If you apply this approach to your hypothetical scenario, with gender as a continuum, it becomes something closer to a probability distribution. Just don’t collapse things into discrete “bins” and I think the paradox resolves itself.

"Trans women are actually women for real, not in a metaphorical sense, not in a "anyone can be anything" sense, but genuinely actually make more taxonomic sense to classify in the category of women than any other group you could classify them in" is a position you'll find is pretty radical even in queer spaces

[oceantornadoo]

ch7 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: minor violence in the last sentence

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Simon might be a ghost on the battlefield, but you become the ghost on base.

Everyone’s gone. Your only company is your cat, and even Bubbles is starting to get sick of you. You can’t work, have nothing to contribute to the base, and it’s not like the military is going to recruit you for help. 

John and Kyle are gone for weeks. Five days into your abandonment, a nurse puts you out of your misery and recruits you as a medbay volunteer. You fetch supplies, talk to injured soldiers, and deliver food trays. It’s thankless work as most of the hospital occupants are too injured to talk or too caught up in memories of the battlefield. Occasionally, you can make someone smile, especially once you start bringing Bubbles in. Dogs might be favored for therapy animals, but in the grimness of the grey medbay, your cat does the trick. Those smiles keep you going, reminding you of the task force you’ve come to regard as yours. 

Volunteer work gives you time to think. To ponder John’s words and how, despite the idiocy of him just assuming you were together, they were what you’ve been wanting to hear. You’ve been straddling this line of jealousy and avoidance, wanting John to yourself while knowing you can’t want him at all. But is that really the case? If Johnny’s dating Simon, maybe it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you could be with John. You just need to approach the subject with caution, and give him time to warm up to it. He’s never met a boyfriend of yours, so you can’t show PDA off the bat. It might take a while, but optimism seeps through your veins.

It’s the feeling you can know so much without knowing anything at all. You have no clue how Johnny will react or if John will even want to date you now that you’ve hurt him. What will Simon and Kyle think? You’ve only met them a few times, but with how much Johnny trusts them, their acceptance means everything.

Of course, all of your plans include Johnny surviving whatever hell he’s in, and that realization quickly snuff the flames of your desire. You ride this seesaw of emotions for weeks, thinking of John one day and your brother the next. It doesn’t help you have no one to talk to except your cat and soldiers in comas. Your social life is really looking up.

Eventually, the nurses stop seeing you as a nuisance and more of a new fixture on base. It’s the nurses that keep medbay functioning, especially when doctors are focused on emergency patients. Someone finds out you’re Johnny’s brother and suddenly you’re hounded by two women asking if you know of one Kyle Garrick. They must be in that love triangle John mentioned. You warn them to not get attached, something someone should have warned you months ago.

Three weeks later, there’s an early morning knock at your door. It’s barely 5 am and even the sun isn’t awake yet. You trudge your way to the door, grabbing one of Johnny’s sweatshirts to battle the early morning cold. There’s a runty almost-kid at your door, shifting from foot to foot. He almost flinches when you open the door, head snapping up to look at your face, then back to his boots. It’s a bit unnerving, how scared he looks.

“Ms. Mactavish?”

“That’s me.”

“You’re wanted at the helipad. Captain Price is back.” You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, how the rookie in front of you almost jumps back in fear. “Did they say anything about Sergeant Mactavish? Soap or Ghost?” He shakes his head and your heart drops to your stomach. “No, ma’am. That’s all they told me. I’m here to walk you to the helipad.” You’re already moving, fumbling for the closest pair of shoes, shoving them on without socks. You close the door and wait for him to direct you. He stands there, almost twitching. “Well?” You adopt a forceful tone, reminiscent of your captain. The recruit jumps slightly, then starts walking down the hall, gesturing to you to follow. You’re speedwalking, leading even though you have no idea where you’re going. Finally, after minutes of silence, he brings you to a nondescript elevator. When you get inside, there’s only one button, an up arrow. You wring your hands as the elevator moves up, every worst possible fear coming to mind. What if John comes back empty-handed? Or with two body bags? They didn’t even mention Kyle. What if he got captured too? You shake the thoughts out, knowing you’ll get your answers in seconds.

The elevator stops, dinging as the doors open. It’s dark and cold outside, but you’re fixated on the doors of the helicopter in front of you. It’s opening and you’re moving, practically running across the roof. A figure with a shaved head is jumping out, the darkness hiding his face. You finally reach him and cry out in relief.

“Johnny!”

“M'eudail.”

His response is muffled by the hug you attack him with. He’s skinnier than usual, no longer built like a tank. It doesn’t matter as long as he’s here, arms wrapped around you. The tears fall unbidden and you think he’s crying too, something you’ve only seen him once at nine years old when he broke his arm climbing a tree. You rub your arms up and down his back, calming him like you would yourself. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He nods against you, tears slowing as you simply hold each other. “Thought you got the memo, you’re not allowed to leave me, Johnny.” You hate how long it takes for him to find a comeback as all he does is squeeze you tighter. “Won’t do it again, hen.”

You finally pull back to take a look at him. His usually bright eyes have dulled and his facial hair is shaved unevenly. And, like you originally thought, his mohawk is gone, replaced with a terrible buzzcut. You run your hands around his smooth head and hate the feel of it. “‘M sorry, Johnny. It’ll grow back.” He gives you a watery smile, hands finally relaxing their grip on you. He blinks back the remaining tears and you can see his soldier persona take over as his back straightens. You take one more moment to kiss his cheek, then pull back out of his grip. Over his shoulder, you spot Simon being handed a medical mask by Kyle. Once he puts it on, you approach him gratefully.

“Simon.” He scoops you up in a hug. “Bird.” You smile against his mask. “Thank you for keeping him safe.” He nods against you, releasing you from his grip. “Think he kept me alive, t’ be honest.” You grin and give him the same cheek kiss you gave Johnny.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You turn and let out a shout of relief. It’s Kyle. “You’re alive!” It’s another brotherly hug you dole out, squeezing him tightly. “Couldn’t leave ya alone, angel.” You giggle. “I’m glad you’re alive. I met some very lovely nurses while you were gone who had very interesting thoughts on you.” You can hear him audibly gulp for effect, a smirk written on his face when you pull out of his grip. “We’ve got things to discuss, then.” He winks and you wink back.

There’s a pair of eyes that have been staring at you for a while now. John’s the last out of the helicopter, conferring with the soldiers around him before saying his hellos. A doctor is checking out Johnny and Simon, Kyle talking to them in murmured tones. John walks toward you quietly, stopping silently. The words of the last conversation you had float between you, bitter from weeks of overthinking.

When John opens his arms for a hug, your senses go haywire. The noises of the task force, of your brother, fade to the background as John gathers you into his arms. He smells like gunpowder and blood, that familiar scent of pine and musk nowhere to be found. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I said.” You murmur it into the crook of his neck. John stiffens slightly, knowing you’re referring to your last conversation. Where you told him you couldn’t be together. 

“‘M sorry f’r not communicatin’.” You shake your head against him like you won’t accept his apology. His hand traces the path of your spine and digs into the nape of your neck, gripping the base of your hair like a leash. “What’re you sayin’, sweetheart?” The hug has gone on far too long for this to be normal, for you to be having this conversation wrapped in each other. You pull back slightly to see his face, arms still wrapped around him. “I can’t not be with you, John. We’ll figure everything else out.” He pulls you in for a kiss, a short and sweet one that wraps around you like a warm blanket. The moment is perfect.

Well, it is perfect, until you remember your brother standing a few meters away. Johnny, recent captive and loyal twin, is red in the face watching his sister kiss his captain. You turn your head to see Simon put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, an attempt to calm him that does not work. Johnny’s charging the two of you like an angry bull, huffing and mad. He reaches you in quick steps, hands balled in fists at his side.

“Didnae ken who ta yell at first.” His eyes drop to John’s hand in your hair and his nostrils flare. John’s hands drop, pushing you around him and away from your brother. “Guess it’s you, Cap.” And that’s when Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, known spitfire, punches his captain.

- 50 points to anyone who can find the taylor swift lyric. hint it’s from Red and it’s an underrated song imo.

taglist:

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@rosallels

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 14 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: Buck’s hands trail down to your hands. He takes his in yours. “Do you love him?” “Buck.” “I know you love me,” Buck continues, playing with your fingers. “You know I love you. But I’m asking if you love him.” The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13

Chapter Summary: Your relationship has some growing tension that leads to an explosive revelation.

Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: a whole lotta angst, violence, discussions of religion

The shifting of the relationship was gradual. You brushed it off at first, attributing it to working long shifts or a lack of a good night’s sleep.

It started after Eddie was held hostage by Mitch. He assured you and Buck countless times that he’s okay and just happy Mitch’s son made it out of surgery. His words didn’t match his actions, though. He stopped greeting you both with a kiss in the morning. He started coming to bed later.

Then, you saw the bruises.

They started on his arms and legs, only the occasional purple and green discoloration. You didn’t think much of it; if someone breathed on you wrong, it could leave a mark. One morning, though, you noticed something much more severe.

Eddie had a massive bruise between the tattoo on his arm and his elbow. It was a mix of blue, purple, and red; it looked fresh, raw, and painful .

“Jesus,” you remarked after setting down your coffee. “What happened to you?”

Eddie looked at his elbow as if he didn’t initially know what you were talking about. “Christopher and I were roughhousing.”

“Were you also playing with hammers?”

“I’m fine.”

The tone of his voice left no room for discussion. It felt like all the air was sucked out of the atmosphere around you. The words wouldn’t reach Eddie’s ears no matter what you said. They would simply linger in the space between the two of you.

You can feel him slipping through your fingers; that’s what you would say. You can feel the distance between you grow little bit bigger with each one-word sentence. You don’t know how to fix it, as much as you want to. You wonder if Eddie feels the same growing gap. You wonder if Buck does. You wonder if ignorance really is bliss, or if it’s just delaying the inevitable.

You’re called to a 10-51 outside of a bar — it’s a drunk and disorderly complaint. In all your years of working in paramedicine, they’re some of your least favorite calls. Nine times out of ten, they end up in custody, which means an officer has to ride with them to the hospital, which pisses them off even more. It’s a lose-lose-lose situation more often than not.

You have no clue why this guy is so angry. You hear him spout the usual complaints: work, taxes, the government, blah blah blah. You watch as four patrol officers shift and dance around him like he’s a feral animal they’re trying to cage.

You look between Buck and Eddie. “You boys ready?”

They both nod.

When both your boys are on a drunk and disorderly call, you have a system worked out: they each grab one side while you give IM Versed. Some patients take longer than others to calm down, and some of them require an additional dose, but so far, the Versed always comes out on top.

You hide the capped syringe behind your back. Both the boys push through some of the officers, while you sneak your way to behind the patient. You watch Buck raise one finger, then two, then a third, before they both advance. Buck grabs his right arm while Eddie grabs the left.

You approach them, uncapping the syringe and raising it to the patient’s deltoid, the muscle just below the shoulder. You’re normally pretty quick, but this guy is somehow quicker.

He breaks free from Eddie’s grasp, arm swinging violently. All of a sudden, your vision goes black and an external force knocks you to the ground.

There’s a lot of shouting, but you can barely make it out over the ringing sound in your ears. You can feel the knees of your pants and the fabric over your elbows begin to saturate. Damn, he knocked you all the way to the ground.

“Hey, are you okay?” A voice asks. “Baby, are you hurt?”

You have yet to open your eyes, but you’d know Eddie’s voice anywhere. You nod slightly, then let out a groan when the motion makes your head spin.

“Here, let me see,” Eddie says, gently guiding you to a sitting position.

You feel his fingers perch under your chin, tipping your head upward. You frown at the movement when it makes you feel dizzy again. When the dizziness subsides, you slowly open your eyes.

Your vision is bleary, but Eddie’s face is close to yours. In the foreground, you can make out Buck completely laying on the patient to subdue him while officers swarm around them both.

“You’ve never called me that,” you say as Eddie puts a penlight through your line of vision.

“Looks like your cheekbone took the brunt of it, not your eye,” Eddie observes. He clicks the button on his radio. “This is RA 118 requesting an additional unit, one of our medics was assaulted on our 10-51 call.”

“ 10-4, ” you hear Maddie’s voice respond.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Eddie whispers, setting a gentle hand on your cheek.

You can’t help but smile. “You called me ‘baby’ again. You never do that, but you should keep doing it.”

That at least earns you a grin. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes, though. You can tell he still feels guilty.

“It’s not your fault, Eds,” you whisper.

“I should’ve had a better grasp on him.”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time a little louder.

“Yes, it is,” he disagrees. “I… my elbow locked up. It’s my fault.”

“I’ll stop by in a few days to get your full statement. For now, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Sergeant Grant.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Athena.”

You smile. “Thanks, Athena.”

Athena smiles back. She looks at you, then at Buck and Eddie, who are on either side of you. Buck is sitting in the rolling stool meant for the ER staff, while Eddie has his back pressed to the counter.

“You boys take care of her,” she directs. “Make sure she gets home okay.”

Buck nods. “Yes ma’am.”

Eddie presses his lips together before eventually nodding.

Athena dismisses herself from the room, wishing you all a good night.

You hate being in the ER as a patient, mostly because you hate waiting. The ER doctor already ruled out an ocular injury, attributing your blurred vision to either a head injury, facial swelling, or both. He did order a head CT to rule out any internal injury, so after some blood work, you’re waiting for the scanner to be available.

The room is tense. Neither of the boys has left your side, but they haven’t said much, either. It’s an awkward combination.

Eddie shifts his arm and winces. He pushes off the counter with his good arm, then grabs his bad elbow. He rubs the bruise.

“The pain’s getting worse,” you observe. He doesn’t have to tell you with words because his body language is screaming.

“It’s nothing,” Eddie mumbles as he continues to rub his skin.

You turn to Buck, who’s holding your hand. “Do you know he got it?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Eddie interrupts.

“He won’t tell me,” you tell Buck, ignoring Eddie’s interjection.

Eddie says your name in a warning tone.

Buck looks at him, then back at you as he squeezes your hand. “He won’t tell me, either.”

Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes a little. “You two are making way too big a deal out of this.”

The ER doctor, Dr. Patel, knocks on the wall before pulling back the curtain and entering. “Hey, thanks for your patience. I wanted to let you know you’re next in line for CT.”

“Sounds great, thank you,” you say, shifting in the bed. “Hey, can you look at my friend’s arm?”

“Would you stop?” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Doc, my friends here are worried over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you press. “Move your hand, let him see the bruise.”

Eddie looks from you to Dr. Patel, who shrugs. “It’d be free of charge.”

Eddie sighs and relents, moving his hand.

With careful hands, Dr. Patel inspects Eddie’s arm. He pokes around the bruise on his elbow, which makes Eddie wince again.

“How did this happen?” Dr Patel asks.

“It happened at work,” Eddie says, “we’re firefighters.”

“You told me it happened when you were roughhousing with Chris,” you counter.

Eddie avoids your eyeline. “It’s probably a mix of both.”

When Dr. Patel pushes back on his hand, Eddie hisses and withdraws. “I’d recommend an X-ray to rule out a fracture, but since this is off the books, I’ll tell you that it seems to be a strain of the common extensor tendon.”

“So, off the books, how does one fix that?” You ask.

“Off the books, you treat a strain with rest, ice, and over-the-counter anti-inflammatories.”

Eddie purses his lips briefly, then extends a hand. “Thanks, doc.”

Dr. Patel smiles as he shakes his hand. “No problem. I’ll have someone show you boys to the waiting room.”

Buck kisses your temple and rubs your hand before letting go. He stands, clearing his throat. “Take care of her, okay?”

Dr. Patel smiles again, setting a hand on Buck’s shoulder as he slips out. “Of course.”

Eddie waves goodbye, and it leaves you alone in the room with Dr. Patel. You shift in your seat awkwardly.

Dr. Patel’s smile fades as he sits where Buck was moments ago. The sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere makes you sick with anxiety.

“Your blood work came back, and one of the results was… abnormal. I thought it would be best if we discuss it alone.”

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Eddie runs a hand down his face. “Buck, I’m-”

“I swear, Eddie, if you say you’re okay one more time, you’re going to need an ER visit.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything; he just sets his elbows on his knees, dipping his head down.

Buck sighs, leaning back in his chair. “You know, when I was… working through things, I shut her out.”

Eddie casts a glance over his shoulder. “How did that work out?”

“It almost ended us.”

Eddie’s lips shift in contemplation.

“Then, I told her everything. And it got me everything I ever wanted.”

At this, Eddie chuckles a little. “Everything you ever wanted? Seriously?”

It sounds like a ploy more than anything, a hyperbole to get Eddie to talk. He’s been around that block once or twice, so it isn’t something he’ll fall for easily.

“Yeah,” Buck confirms, voice unwavering. There isn’t a trace of humor or doubt in his tone. He doesn’t sound cocky, just… confident. “It got me both of you.”

They go back to being quiet. It’s comfortable for Buck and absolutely suffocating for Eddie.

Buck’s hand is resting on the armrest. Eddie can see it shift in his periphery. He feels Buck’s hand on his thigh, slowly inching closer to his hand. Buck’s fingertips reach his wrist before he lets out a breath and sits back. His eyes scan across the waiting room.

“Eddie,” Buck says softly. In that moment, Eddie thinks he may be telepathic, or maybe he just knows Buck too well, because he knows exactly what he’s about to say. “They don’t know about us. They don’t care .”

It shouldn’t be a big deal, mostly because Buck is right: no one knows. They don’t know that Buck is only one of the two people he’s in love with. They don’t know that the other person he’s in love with is in an ER room. They don’t know that she’s there because of him. They look like two men in love, two men who should be able to hold hands in a waiting room.

So… why can’t Eddie bring himself to do it?

“Can you at least look at me?”

Buck’s voice breaks through, and Eddie’s racing thoughts come to a screeching halt. His tone dances on the edge of desperation, and it hurts Eddie’s heart, but it doesn’t hurt enough for him to listen.

“You boys ready to ditch this place?”

They look up. It’s you. You’re out of the hospital gown and back in your uniform. The bruise on your cheekbone is getting darker by the minute, but despite it, there’s a smile on your face.

“Woah, that scan was quick,” Buck remarks.

“Yeah, the longest part is always the waiting.”

It’s subtle, but Eddie catches it. He sees the way your smile faulters, the way the light leaves your eyes for a second. You recover quickly; your smile evens out, and the sparkle returns in less than a second. Eddie saw it, though. He knows that change anywhere. He’s been living in that change for the last few weeks.

You’re caught in a lie.

He just has no clue what you’re lying about.

You clear your throat. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nursing school sucks.

You knew it would suck, but you didn’t know it would suck this bad. Your experience and certifications as a paramedic allow you to skip a year of coursework, and it still sucks really bad.

Whenever you aren’t working, you’re doing something for school. When you aren’t writing a paper, you’re working on a project. When you aren’t working on a project, you’re reviewing skills. When you aren’t reviewing skills, you’re studying. And there’s so much to study between medications and disorders and terminology. You’re barely a month into the term and you’re already looking forward to Thanksgiving break.

There’s a silver lining to it all — you’re too busy with school to think about anything else.

You can’t remember the last night you spent at Eddie’s house. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you kissed him. He’s been distant, and you’ve been busy, and that combination is intimacy’s killer.

It’s fine. Well, it’s probably not fine. But you don’t exactly have the time nor the resources to fix it. Besides, all things considered, it’s actually… comfortable. It's not the type of comfortable it started as, but a different type. It’s no longer the ‘everyone is okay and nothing else matters’ type of comfortable; it’s more of an ‘everything isn’t okay but it’s easier to pretend it is’ sort of comfortable.

It’s like seeing a deer standing in the road miles ahead. You’re going 55 on the highway, and the deer doesn’t see you yet. You know that, in a matter of seconds, everything will either be completely okay or it will end in blood. You know that, no matter what, someone’s gonna end up running.

But you’re not at the end yet. For now, you’re in that sweet spot where you see the deer and the deer doesn’t see you, but it doesn’t matter. You can see the end, but you’re not there yet. You don’t press on the gas, but you don’t move over the brakes yet, either. You know the ending, and you’re in no rush to see it, so for now, you’re just watching everything play out.

“Everything okay?” Hen asks.

You look up. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You purse your lips as you shut your laptop. “No.”

In the last few months — and especially the last few weeks — you haven’t been a great friend to Hen. You haven’t been a deliberately bad friend, but the relationship has been very one-sided. Lately, your friendship consists of Hen asking questions about your relationship and you subsequently bitching about it.

“It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”

See, you were gonna try to talk about something else, maybe how Karen’s doing or if Denny’s school year started okay. But then she says something like that and she just… knows . She knows something is up, and she probably knows how badly you need to talk about it.

You’ve mentioned it to Buck more than once, but the conversation never seems to have a satisfying ending. You both always agree to let Eddie come to you in his own time. Eddie has yet to do so. He doesn’t have any new injuries, but that’s probably because he’s still healing his strain. He isn’t getting more avoidant, but he isn’t forthcoming like he used to be. Eddie’s in purgatory; all you and Buck can do is watch.

“He’s been acting weird, right?” you settle on saying. “I mean, it started with him keeping secrets, which I was… fine with. I mean, not fine, but I dealt with it, you know? But then the bruises started. He never had a good explanation for them, either.”

Hen shrugs. “He’s a guy.”

“That’s it? That’s your advice? ‘He’s a guy’?”

She chuckles. “I’m just saying that men tend to deal with these things differently than we do. For the most part, when things don’t make sense, women like to talk about it. Guys… they like to hit things.”

It turns out that ‘guys like to hit things’ was exactly the advice you needed. It’s the advice that led you to a boxing studio after hours. You responded to a call involving an injured boxer a while back, and the owner said to call anytime you needed a favor. You’re cashing it in.

“So… what exactly are we doing here?”

You dragged both of your boys with you. Words haven’t worked things out, so you’re hoping a little good old-fashioned sparring will do the trick.

You pick up a pair of boxing pads. You slide your hands into them before clapping them together, the sound muffled by the thick padding. “We’re gonna hit things.”

The boys share a look, then a chuckle.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Talking isn’t working, so we’re gonna start hitting,” you explain. “And if that doesn’t work, then I’m out of ideas.”

You reach for a pair of boxing mitts. You hold them out. “Who’s going first?”

Buck looks to Eddie, then shrugs. “I’ll try anything once.”

You and Buck spar in the ring. You both get quicker as you get more confident, and his punches get faster. You keep up with ease. You don’t stop until Buck’s forehead is pouring with sweat.

You lean against the ropes. “Feel better?”

Buck wipes a drop of sweat away from his nose as he breathes heavily. He nods wordlessly.

You smirk in satisfaction. “Alright, Diaz, you’re up.”

Eddie’s sitting on a stool in the corner of the ring. You could feel his eyes bounce between you and Buck the whole time you were sparring. When your attention shifts to him, he looks like he wants to argue. He must know he’ll lose the argument because he stands with a sigh.

As Buck walks by to trade places with him, he holds the boxing gloves against his chest. Eddie takes them, and Buck’s hand moves to his shoulder. He squeezes and leaves his hand where it is until Eddie approaches you.

You lift your hands and brace a foot behind you. “You ready?”

Eddie's answer is a fist landing on the pad.

He isn’t hesitant like Buck was — his punches are fast and relentless, like bullets coming out of a gun. You struggle to keep up at first, but the two of you eventually find your rhythm.

“What’s got you so pissed?” you ask.

Eddie’s eyes find yours for a moment. They’re dark by nature, but there’s something different about them now. It’s like there’s no trace of him behind them, just pure anger.

“Doesn’t matter,” he eventually huffs out between blows.

“Is it me? Is it Buck?” you continue.

“Neither,” he answers.

“Is it us?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. He punches a little harder.

“It is, isn’t it?” You prod.

“No,” Eddie says through his teeth. “It’s me.”

You frown. “What about you?”

“Everything. My thoughts, my actions, my relationships.”

“What about your relationships?”

“It’s wrong!”

The room quiets. Eddie stops throwing punches. Your hands fall limply at your sides.

“It’s wrong?” You whisper.

Eddie lets out a sound similar to a growl. He pulls off his gloves, throwing them to the side and running his hands through his hair.

“It’s… wrong,” Eddie repeats, his hands finding their way to his hips. “I was raised in a religion that believes marriage is between a man and a woman. But I was raised in El Paso, which is about as liberal as Texas can get. I have gay family members, and we’ve always loved them the same.”

Buck stands up, carefully approaching the two of you. “So what’s wrong about this?”

“It would be one thing if I was just dating a guy,” Eddie continues. “Dating more than one person, though? Dating a guy and a girl? It’s like… I can’t wrap my head around it. There’s no way my family could, no way that…”

“...That God could,” you finish.

You’re not a stranger to religion, but it isn’t your best friend, either. When your dad got too drunk, your neighbors across the street took you in for a few weeks, and they went to church every Sunday. They were Christian — you’re fuzzy on the exact denomination, but you know they weren’t Catholic. The Richardsons weren’t out in the street fighting for marriage equality, but from the time you spent with them, they seemed more ‘Love thy neighbor’ than ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ type of people.

“I don’t even know if I believe in God,” Eddie says with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I believe in Him, but I’m terrified of disappointing him. How does that even work?”

“You wouldn’t be a lapsed Catholic if you didn’t have at least a little guilt,” Buck offers. Eddie smiles a little, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

There’s a burning question, and you don’t know how else to ask it. “Do you still want to do this?”

Eddie swallows. “I… I don’t know. I just need… some time, I think.”

Buck wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. He’s much nicer than you.

See, you’re tired. You’ve given Eddie time — a lot of time. You’ve given him time to himself, time to work things through, time to come to you. You’re kind of tired of giving him time. Especially because now, you can hear the clock ticking. There’s only so much time left before everything changes.

You rip off the pads, tossing them to the side near Eddie’s gloves.

Buck frowns as he says your name. “What’s wrong?”

You laugh a little, and it brings tears to your eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

[cupidbedsy]

▷ the storm brewing within ; the film effect

➪ summary: after weeks of uneasiness flowing through gabe and molly and months of gabe being on edge about mack, he finally lets it all out, leading to more hurtful things then he could've imagined

➪ warnings: gabe and will saying shitty things to each other, gabe hurting mack's feelings... gabe saying something shitty to mack. also not proofread one bit

➪ word count: 1.7k

➪ file type: au (the film effect) fic

➪ cupid's notes: pls ignore the picture choice i spent ten minutes trying to find a good one but i couldn't an di just wanted to get this out. a little angst tonight... i don't know what possessed me but whatever. for a slight bit of context gabe does have the last word in the fight and he said something beyond shitty but i could not think of something to write bc i had turned the fight to will yelling at gabe so pls ignore that. sorry for the yapping but yeah

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Molly wasn’t sure what it was, the hustle and bustle of the holidays, the getting back to school, the winter depression, but she could just feel like something was going to happen. She could feel the uneasiness in her stomach brew throughout the past week, sitting in the middle of class or reading a new book in her dorm. 

Gabe knew she had felt off the whole week, keeping an eye on her at every possible second since she arrived back on campus. He had already been there a few days prior having had a game that Friday and Saturday before everyone was due back. And maybe it was because he knew her too well and had been watching her that he knew she was feeling off, or maybe it was because the same stomach-churning feeling his girlfriend had he had too, but he would never say that out loud. 

The two drove in silence to TD Gardens, it would be their first time seeing Will since New Year’s and while they had gone longer than two weeks without each other, the two weeks had seemed like two years. With everything the two were feeling, the thought of just seeing their boyfriend in person felt like a huge relief off their shoulders. 

Gabe looked over at Molly, a small smile growing on his face, “Hey.”

“Hi. You good?”

“Mhm, just excited, y’know. Hockey.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you’re excited about.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Standing in the tunnel after the game, Gabe held onto Molly’s hand anxiously waiting for Will to finish up in the locker room. The sinking feeling in both of their stomachs only grew during the game despite trying to focus on the sound of skating and the puck sliding along the ice for the past two and a half hours. 

Gabe’s mind raced with thoughts of the unread text messages on his phone from his teammates, the unfinished assignments he had already collected in the week of being back at school, and the mess his bedroom was, everything was just piling up on him and he didn’t know how much more he could take. 

Will walked out from behind the corner only a few minutes later, and just to Gabe’s luck, Mack was just a few feet behind them. He heard both of their laughs first, eyes landing on their figures seconds later. He watched as his boyfriend talked animatedly about something, what it was he had no clue, but he could feel the tension release from his body just at the sight of him. 

Molly could feel the pit forming in the pit of her stomach as soon as she saw one of her best friends behind her boyfriend because as much as she loved Mack and loved talking to him, she knew her other boyfriend did not return the same sentiment. 

She squeezed Gabe’s hand, trying to provide him with an extra layer of comfort as the two drew closer to them. Will’s gaze snapped over to them, a wide grin breaking out on his face. He didn’t say any words before he hugged Molly, whispering a soft greeting in her ear before pulling away and doing the same with his boyfriend. 

However, Gabe’s hug lasted substantially longer than Molly’s, tight grip around Will’s waist as he toyed with the edge of his suit jacket. Will’s eyebrows furrowed, rubbing Gabe’s back in slow circles, murmuring, “You okay, handsome?”

He could feel Gabe nod from where his head was placed on his shoulder and didn’t say anything more, falling into silence as he just held him close. Gabe sighed, finally feeling at ease as he stood there, but his relaxed state went as quick as it came once Macklin’s voice made its way to his ears. 

He tensed only slightly, still trying to drown out the talking that not only annoyed him but overwhelmed him. As the three continued talking, Gabe’s mind swirled into what was quickly becoming a storm of thoughts that he wished he didn’t have. 

“No, I swear! Will just walked up to him like it was no big deal and he-”

“God do you ever shut up!” Gabe snapped, pulling away from the comfort that was the crook of Will’s neck, eyes looking Mack up and down. 

Mack’s mouth shut, almost shying away from the volume of his voice. Will and Molly stared at their boyfriend agape, blinking slowly and then rapidly as if trying to figure out if what just happened had really happened. 

“Gabe…” Will and Mack’s voices were soft as they spoke.

In turn, their voices at the same time only made Gabe grow more annoyed, “And of course, you two are talking at the same time!”

“I didn’t-”

“No of course you didn’t, because perfect Macklin Celebrin could never do anything wrong.” He cut him off, huffing as he crossed his arms. 

“Gabe that isn’t fair and you know it. He was just trying to make conversation with you-” Will started, wrapping his hand around his bicep as he dragged him away from Mack and Molly. 

Gabe’s yells turned into whispered harshness as he stared at his boyfriend, “He is always around Will, even if it’s just the three of us. Is it too much to ask to have you and Molly to myself for once?”

“No but you could at least be nice to him, Gabe. He is my friend, one of the only ones I have out in California. I am not saying you have to be all buddy-buddy with him but at least he’s trying, which is more than I can say about you.”

Tears formed at the base of Gabe’s eyes, but he refused to let them fall, “I am not going to try to be friends with someone who is trying to steal my boyfriend.”

Will tilted his head back in frustration, a loud groan coming out of him, “He is not trying to steal me, Gabe. And even if he was, which he isn’t, I am yours and Molly’s, which is something that will never change.”

The two just stared at each other for a few minutes before Will spoke again, “You’re acting like a spoiled fucking child who isn’t getting their way.”

This time, Gabe was unable to stop the tear from making its way down his face, wiping at it harshly as soon as he felt it, “That’s not… fair.”

“Oh so now it’s not fair? After what you said to him? Spare me the emotions, Gabe. I’m not dealing with this anymore. You need to get over whatever you have against him and stop acting like a child.”

Mack and Molly stood a ways away from them, watching the heated exchange. The girl spared a glance up at her friend, a frown easily taking over her face, “He didn’t mean it, Mack-”

“No… he did. And that’s fine. I’m fine. Honestly, Molls. It’s okay that he doesn’t like me, I just don’t want to ruin your guys’ relationship.”

“You aren’t ruining anything, I promise. It’s just been a hard few months for him and I know that is no excuse for what he said but-”

“Molly it’s okay. I will live and you do not have to apologize for him or for anything, okay? I’m going to head out, tell Will I’ll try to hold the team off long enough before they leave.”

She only nodded, eyes drifting back to watch her boyfriends argue. But somewhere between them starting and stopping their conversation, Gabe had disappeared and left an angry and upset Will by himself. Mack gave her a side hug, walking past Will and giving him a pat on the shoulder before leaving. 

Molly approached him, stepping in front of him and taking his hands into her own, “What happened?”

She skipped over the question she would’ve liked to ask, Everything okay? Because she knew it wasn’t okay, it was the first real fight the three of them had ever had and it was a huge one. She heard him sigh, eyes searching his face for any telltale sign of what happened or what he said but she came up empty. 

“I said things, he said things… I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to sort through his thoughts. 

“Were yours worse or were his?”

“I was being pretty shitty, but he was being…” He trailed off, unsure of what actually to say. While Gabe had said equally worse things, Will couldn’t help the regret and guilt that took over his mind. 

“Do you-”

“Go. I don’t want him out on the street alone despite how mad at him I am, and I definitely do not want you two driving in the middle of the night. I have to get back to the team, we have the flight soon, gotta be in Nashville.” He rambled, unable to keep himself from everything he was thinking about. 

She rose onto her tip-toes, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I love you, and Gabe loves you too-” She paused when she saw the hurt and anger flash in his eyes at his name, “Yeah, okay.”

“I love you too, Molls. And I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, “Don’t be. Not to me at least and do not forget that he also said things that weren’t right, Will. You have a right to feel angry just as much as he does.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When Molly found Gabe, he was sitting against a wall, head in his hands and she could hear the soft sobs that came from him. Her steps were slow and deliberate, trying not to spook him. Her efforts were vain when his head jerked up at the brush of her hand against his shoulder. He only cried harder when he saw her.

“Gabe take a deep breath f’me okay?” She kneeled next to him as best as she could, ignoring the slight pain of her knees digging into the sidewalk's concrete. Her one hand brought his head to her chest and tangled in his hair while the other was placed comfortingly on his back. 

“I’m sorry.” He hiccuped, trying to calm himself down. 

She sighed as she repeated her earlier words, “Don’t be. Not to me at least.”

꒰ THE FILM EFFECT TAGLIST ꒱

@winterbarnesblog @delilaahh9 @digitalhughes-jpg @rowdyluv @fantillisgirl @macklin-celebrini-71

THE FILM EFFECT MASTERLIST ; AU'S

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[peterm4rker]

(𐙚⋆.˚) can't help falling !!

🕸🕷✮⋆ [jaehee x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 3.7k w. cursing, kissing, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

jaehee fought the urge to roll his eyes.

he was convinced that the boy in front of him had been talking about the same thing for the past twenty minutes. your new situationship, or ayden like you had called him, was plain annoying in your best friend’s eyes. he was way too happy, too chipper and talkative for his liking.

he didn’t like the way his bright pink hair shone in the sunlight, or the way his smile seemed to make your entire face light up with endearment. there was something that didn’t sit right with him about how you looked at him; something that made his stomach churn.

“at least try to hide your disgust,” jaehee’s best friend, riku commented quietly next to his ear as he leaned in to grab some food from the other side of the table.

“i have no clue what you’re talking about,” jaehee said back, getting the plate he was reaching for and placing it in front of him so he would get out of his way, his eyes still trained on your face as you chuckled at something ayden said. 

“sure you don't,” riku scoffed, thanking him softly for the plate before serving himself the food he wanted. 

jaehee stood in silence, his eyes moving from you to the boy at your side. his stare was so focused on noticing everything that was wrong with him that he didn’t notice your own eyes traveling to his face, looking at him for a few seconds before picking up your phone.

his attention was forced away by the pang of his phone. his eyebrows furrowed as the tone rang, his eyes travelling to yours when the sound was the one put specifically for you. you gave him an urgent look, signalling him to look at his phone, which he did begrudgingly.

yn my absolute favorite person in the whole wide world even more than riku who definitely didn’t name herself

what’s up with the frown? you’re going to scare him away.

he resisted the urge to roll his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that night before typing away his answer.

he’s fine, i don’t think he’s paying attention to anything but his little story.

he watched your eyebrows crease as you read the text before furiously typing and setting your phone down on the table, face down.

please don’t be like that, everyone else likes him and you know how important it is for me that you do too.

the brown eyed boy felt a pang of guilt on his chest at your upset expression. he didn’t think he was being rude, he hadn’t said anything to ayden even when he had many things to say. he didn’t let out the scoffs or sighs he wanted to, so he didn’t fully understand what the fuss was all about. 

still, he could never stand to make you upset even in the slightest, so he moved his leg in search of yours under the table, finding it quickly and nudging you softly. you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and he gave you a small smile, one of the ones that screamed apologies.

he watched you nervously in silence for a couple of seconds as you looked at him with a serious expression, holding it for as long as you could before your mouth betrayed you as it formed a small smile. you nudged him back and grabbed your phone, typing with a smile before setting it back down.

it’s okay, i’m not mad anymore.

also pass the meat before riku eats it all.

jaehee couldn’t avoid the smile that set on his lips as he read your texts. he grabbed the plate so he could hand it to you, but he was only met with the sight of you talking to ayden quietly, your attention far from him. he set the plate on the table and slumped back on his chair, his eyes looking back in the perfect moment to watch the pink haired boy steal a quick peck from your lips.

jaehee’s stomach churned with realization as he moved his attention down to the food on his plate.

the things he would do to be the one kissing you like that.

…

jaehee knew he was right.

he knew that ayden kid would end up being an asshole; that he would hurt you some way or the other.

he wanted to scream it, to tell you repeatedly that he had tried to warn you. but he didn’t, he couldn’t even dare to think about it as he heard your soft voice on the other side of the phone.

“i'm sorry to bother you, but i’ve been waiting for an hour and a half and i just don’t think he’s going to show up,” you said, voice small and defeated.

jaehee felt his heart being squeezed by how hurt you sounded. he felt so many things right then; the urge to find ayden and do absolutely unspeakable things to him for not realizing the absolute gem of a person he had by his side, the frustration of knowing he could treat you so much better. but most importantly, the need to cradle you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay, that ayden didn’t deserve you; that no one did for that matter.

“where are you right now?” he asked, his voice as soft as it could be.

“at sunrise café but i’m gonna leave soon, i look like a fucking idiot” you chuckled dryly.

“don’t say that, i’m sure you look as pretty as you always do,” he reassured, already up and looking for his car keys almost frantically. “stay there for me, okay? just wait a bit more.”

he waited for your confirmation before hanging up the phone and going back to his room, grabbing a new clean shirt and making sure his hair looked good. he buttoned the shirt as he closed everything up, hopping into his car and almost speeding in the direction of your favorite café. he made it there about twenty minutes later thanks to the detour at the flower shop, looking for you through the glass window and smiling softly when he found you. you looked as pretty as you always did, and his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

he rushed to go into the cozy place, going to your table and standing next to you.

“i’m so incredibly sorry i’m late,” he said, a little too loudly for it to be only meant for you. “there was a huge traffic jam, but i got your favourite flowers.”

you looked up at him with a surprised expression, admiring how handsome he looked just then. his hair was styled beautifully even when a little messy from the wind; his white button up hugged his torso perfectly and made him look a little too elegant for the casual little café.

“thank you,” you smiled, standing up and grabbing the flowers from his hands before hugging him tight. “really, thank you so much.”

the boy hugged you back even tighter, enjoying the feeling of having you like that. “there’s nothing to be thankful about,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head before parting away. “now, i’m sure you’re starving so let’s eat.”

you smiled fondly at him as you sat down again, not even needing to look at the menu to know what you wanted. 

 the hours passed like they always did when you and jaehee were together, fast and full of laughter. you could see how he was doing his best to make you laugh and entertain you as much as he could so you wouldn’t think of the reason why he was there in the first place.

“you didn’t have to do all of that, you know.” you commented, as you watched him pay for both of your meals after a long discussion of not letting you pay for half of it. 

“i know, i never have to do anything,” he replied as he bowed in thanks to the cashier that handed him his card back. “i do it because i want to and because you mean a lot to me.” 

you tried to ignore the flutter on your chest when he smiled at you, beginning to walk out of the café and holding the door for you to do the same.

“still, it’s not your responsibility to take care of me when i get stood up by assholes you didn’t even like in the first place.” you shrugged, waiting for him to get to your side again.

“i don’t care about the circumstance, i just want you to be okay.” he smiled, going back to your side and placing his arm around your shoulders. “wanna take a walk before i take you back home?”

you couldn’t help the huge smile that took over your lips while you nodded, wrapping your arm around his waist and letting him guide you to the ice cream shop you had gone to so many times. 

you and jaehee talked about everything and anything as you walked together, getting ice cream and sitting on a park bench for a while until you deemed it was time to go back home. he offered to drive you home as he always did and you started your walk back to the car, only stopping when you were faced by a big crowd of people waiting to cross the street you needed to cross to get to your destination.

“his head was too big as well, sakuya agrees” the boy commented casually, continuing to list all the things he didn’t like about ayden.

“it was not that big,” you rolled your eyes in amusement.

“he looked like a bobblehead, yn” he said, earning a big laugh from you just as the light turned green to let you cross. jaehee’s hand instinctively moved to interlace your fingers with his, pulling you along as he crossed. he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd in the middle of a very busy street, of course, it’s not like he just wanted to hold your hand or anything of the sorts.

“maybe you have a point,” you chuckled once you safely got to the other side of the street. you waited for the boy to let go of your hand, but he never did. he just continued his rant, swinging your hands between your bodies as he walked towards his car. you had held his hand before, but it had never felt that romantic to do so.

jaehee only let go because he had to drive, cranking up the music to its fullest while he drove you home.

“thank you, dae, for everything.” you thanked as you stood in front of your house. 

his heart soared as he heard the name fall off your lips. he was so used to people calling him jaehee that it sometimes surprised him when someone didn’t. he didn’t mind if it was you, though.

“anytime, you know that.” he smiled, as softly as you had ever seen him smile.

“good night,” you smiled, tiptoeing to leave a kiss on his cheek before turning around and getting inside your house.

he thought about how he should’ve kissed you the entire drive home.

…

jaehee groaned as he placed his head down at the table.

he could feel the migraine brewing in his head as he closed his eyes, trying to get rid of the awful itch that had been haunting them for hours now. the boy sat in the college library as he had done so often lately, trying to study as much as he could for the finals he had ahead of him. who could’ve said that studying music was that hard? he really just wanted to continue playing piano and got stuck with music appreciation finals that made no sense whatsoever.

he had been stuck in the library for what felt like days, made even longer by the fact that he hadn’t seen you in seemingly forever. he pictured you as he closed his eyes, thinking about what you would be doing then. you were probably studying at home with your headphones blasting the most obnoxiously loud music you were able to find like you always did when you needed to focus. jaehee smiled at the thought, enjoying the image for a few seconds before being interrupted by a voice he knew a little too well.

“i thought you were studying, not sleeping.” you teased as you approached the table. 

the boy raised his head, a small dumbfounded smile taking place on his lips as he watched you.

“i’m just taking a second, geez.” he said, humor in his voice. 

you chuckled and patted his hand softly, ruffling his hair before placing a cup in front of him.

“i brought you coffee from sunrise,” you smiled, taking a seat on the chair next to him. he almost pouted at how cute he had found you just then and how much he appreciated your small acts of kindness. “i was going to walk all the way here but i ran into sion at the coffee shop so he drove me.” you continued to rant before he could thank you for the coffee.

“you were going to walk all the way here?” he asked as he tilted his head in curiosity, his eyes basically flooding with affection.

“well, i needed a break and i felt like i haven’t seen you in forever so i was having dae withdrawals” you sighed dramatically, resting your chin on your hands as you looked at him.

“well, i’m glad you’re here, i missed you too,” he smiled, almost cooing at you. “and thank you for the coffee.”

“of course, baby,  don’t worry about it,” you said, and everything around jaehee froze. “anyways, i forgot to tell you. i ran into ayden at the convenience store…” 

the boy stared at you incredulously, looking hard for any type of reaction to the words that had just fallen out of your lips. you had always been affectionate with each other, but nicknames like “baby” were completely uncharted territory in your friendship. when he noticed no type of acknowledgement to your words, his heart soared higher than it ever had. you had called him that unconsciously, naturally. he felt like he could just jump in joy, scream at the top of his lungs about how much he yearned for you to call him that every single day. but he settled into looking at you with lovesick eyes, trying to remember how you had gotten to the point in the story you were telling.

hours later, jaehee drove you home as he always did. he couldn’t get that moment out of his head, how the nickname had sounded so beautiful and natural coming from you. the thought got to the point of slightly stressing him out. should he call you a pet name too? would that make you uncomfortable or flustered? he didn’t know, and if he kept thinking about it instead of paying attention to the road, you would both end up in the hospital.

“well, thank you for driving me again,” you smiled as you both got out of the car, meeting in front of your door like you always did.

“always,” he smiled, admiring how beautiful you looked under the warm light of your porch.

“i should head inside, i still have to study,” you commented, giving him that breathtaking smile of yours.

“goodnight, pretty” he said, voice almost a whisper as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

“night night, baby” you smiled, kissing his cheek quickly before disappearing into your house. jaehee’s heart skipped an alarming amount of beats when you spoke, replaying the moment in his head over and over.

damn it, he should’ve kissed you. 

…

jaehee had never been so happy.

everything around him seemed right. all his friends were stacked in his living room, doing many types of stupid things and laughing loudly. you were there too, of course, currently sitting on the couch with sakuya resting on the floor between your legs as you put a ridiculous amount of braids in his hair. your eyes were trained on sion, who was recalling the story of how awkward his first meeting with his new friend, jisung had been.

you seemed happy, everything around you was glowing with a light that could only ever come from you. that’s the way he would describe you; bright, like the sun and the stars and anything that could somehow guide him home. 

his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he heard riku call you in the other room. you stood up and left without even finishing your job on sakuya’s hair, leaving a whiny kid on the floor. it didn’t take long for sion to take your place and the younger kid’s whines only got louder, distracting jaehee from whatever you and his best friend were up to in the kitchen.

his attention was pulled back from the amusing situation that was unravelling in front of him when the lights turned off and the music stopped playing. he looked around in confusion until his eyes met yours. you walked out of the kitchen, holding a beautiful cake with nineteen candles on it while you began singing happy birthday. your eyes were solely focused on him, and he thought he could pass away right there. you looked like a dream, like everything he ever wanted.

the song ended with you standing right in front of him, a warm smile on your lips.

you watched him intently, not wanting to miss a second of how the warm light of the candles reflected on his honeyed skin. his brown eyes seemed to shine with warmth as he looked at the cake, admiring how you had very obviously decorated it yourself. 

“make a wish, dae,” you muttered.

his eyes connected with yours the moments the words fell off of your mouth, and you almost went completely breathless. his eyes didn’t separate from yours for a single second as he blew out the candles and smiled like he already had everything he needed.

everyone around you erupted in cheers when the candles were blown out, but it didn’t seem to face jaehee in the slightest. his eyes were still trained on yours as you mouthed “happy birthday”, seconds before his face was pushed straight into the cake and ryo’s evil laugh rang throughout the room.

the half eaten, half smashed cake sat on the kitchen table as you and jaehee cleaned up in complete silence, simply letting the sound of the music flood the space. the silence was a comfortable one, like everything you needed to say could be communicated with your eyes as you moved in sync around the room, filling up trash bags and washing dirty dishes.

that was until a certain song started playing and you both immediately looked for each other’s eyes. jaehee approached you slowly as the lyrics to elvis presley’s “can’t help falling in love” began playing, reaching over to you gently, cautiously. your arms took place on his shoulders as you gave him a small smile, encouraging him to dance with you.

“remember when we danced to this song at the school play?” you asked, voice tender as your hand buried in the hair at the nape of his head.

“of course i do,” he smiled, his hands placed on your hips as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. “there’s a picture of that hanging in the living room, i’m pretty sure.”

you smiled fondly, staring up at him with the most loving eyes someone could ever muster. this was it; he was it.

jaehee took your hand and made you spin, eliciting a small giggle from you before settling back to your previous position.

“dae?” you asked, a little shyly.

“what’s up, pretty?” he asked, and you felt your heart race ridiculously. 

“would it be awful if i told you how much i want to kiss you?” 

jaehee’s heart stopped completely when he heard you. was he dreaming? he surely had to be, because there was no way that you could ever feel the same way as he has for so long.

“you want to kiss me?” he asked, sounding completely breathless.

“yeah” you assured, now looking more nervous than the first time you asked.

the boy didn’t wait for a single more second before cupping your jaw and tilting your head upwards, making it easier for him to lean down and press your lips together. everything in his life seemed to click in that moment. the way your lips fit perfectly with yours, how small you felt under his hands, how you smiled into the kiss like it was everything you ever wanted. he was finally home. 

he only parted away when his lungs screamed at him for air, still holding you close like he was scared to put distance between you. you moved away just enough to look into his eyes, giving him a small smile as you caressed his hair softly. 

“hi,” you chuckled, causing him to smile softly.

“hi,” he mimicked before pulling you into another kiss, walking forward to guide you back until you were met with the table. you jumped slightly to sit on the surface, pulling at him so he would stand between your legs, continuing to kiss him deeply.

“you have no clue how badly i’ve wanted to do this,” he mumbled into the kiss, his hands squeezing your hips.

“yeah?” you asked, and he could’ve sworn his entire body lit up on fire.

“so fucking badly” he answered, making a smile form on your lips.

“good, now you can do it whenever you want.” 

all those times that jaehee had thought about kissing you didn’t even begin to compare to how perfect it felt to have your lips on his.

★ blue's corner ;; heyyy so, my first wish post !! i love jaehee with my heart and soul and i had to do this (also warming you up to the wishies content bc the riku smau is next.) anyways, it's also the last fic of the year !! im so incredibly grateful for everyone in this app, happy new years ! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @roseraris

© peterm4rker, 2024

[sillystarwrites]

Hi there!

Can you pretty please with a cherry on top do tadc cast x reader that looks like gingerbrave from the cookie run game series? Also just make reader a little shorter then pomni, thanks!

A/N: this is actually hella interesting?? Might be shorter (like about 5 per character) since there’s a lotta characters to write for here, but yipeeee

Type: tadc cast x gn!reader that looks like gingerbrave HCs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🎩Caine🎩

☆ you’re the first person to enter that looks more food-like, so hes a tad intrigued

☆ still, he treats you like any other member! Full tour and everything

☆ he also used gingerbread a lot more in adventures. For some reason. It did freak you out a bit, to be honest, but you didn’t say much 

☆ I also like the idea that being a gingerbread fella you broke easily, so he’d often fix you up after adventures 

☆ he also gave you an oven in your room, to cook new limbs in case he wasn’t there to repair you

♟️Kinger♟️

☆ he’s a bit bonkers in the light, so you accidentally scare him a lot

☆ he’s sorta like a parent figure to you tbh

☆ like during episode 3 if you get tossed with him and Pomni, he protects you two

☆ also pretty helpful with finding your limbs if they snap off at all

☆ I have like no ideas for him I’m so sorry 😭 

💜Jax💜

☆ he’s purposely break off your limbs, because he would

☆ he probably also broke your arm off just to eat it, so see what it tasted like

☆ it tasted like polygons, much like other food in the circus

☆ he also probably tried to shove you in the oven in your room

☆ considering you occasionally need to bake yourself new limbs, you probably have some sort of frosting to re-attach them with

☆ which he totally stole and managed to glue you to your ceiling 

☆ and you still had to go on the adventure after that 

🧸Ragatha🧸

☆ as she is with everybody, she’s super welcoming to you

☆ also protects you from Jax when he tried to break you

☆ in the instance he does, she IMMEDIATELY helps, she’s such a people pleaser oml

☆ like genuinely it’ll be the smallest thing and she insists on helping, it’s a bit overbearing

☆ you know she’s trying to be nice but god damn

☆ you let her help anyway

☆ she’s pretty nice other than that

☆ checks on you pretty regularly and stuff

☆ during episode 4’s adventure she does spill that she basically pities you.

☆ so it’s like damn okay then

☆ that definitely affects your relationship, but you try not to let it get to you

☆ key word try.

🔶Zooble🔶

☆ they get the bullying from Jax, so they try to help

☆ sometimes it results in their limbs being yoinked, but hey, at least you’re okay

☆ they also help you with your gingerbread limbs

☆ you’re like a lot shorter than them, which they DO think is kinda maybe funny

☆ like they’ll never mock you for it but compared to everyone else you’re almost comically short

🎡Pomni🎡

☆ surprised to have someone a bit shorter than her at first to be honest

☆ she’s pretty nice to you though!!

☆ she might worry about accidentally breaking you so she might avoid you sometimes, but she means well

☆ if someone (Jax) breaks your limbs she’s willing to help if Ragatha doesn’t beat her to it

☆ sometimes wonders if you’re edible, but then she realizes that’s weird asf so she never asks

☆ other than that she seems to like you

🎭Gangle🎭

☆ she seems to like you, you’re nice to her

☆ idk if you two would be that good of friends, but defo talk to each other every now and then

☆ you might distract Jax from bothering her, so she’s a bit grateful for that

☆ you both get along well, for sure

☆ if you two do become friends you help each other out every now and then with whatever

🫧Bubble🫧

☆ tries to eat you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: let me cook please fhshdhdhshdh I had no clue what I was doing.

[leunusualsuspect]

I’m so fucking tired of people being like

“Oh well a bunch of Zionists reblogged this, no more reblogging”

“Zionists are reblogging this. Suspicious.”

Do.

You.

Guys.

HEAR YOURSELVES?

This isn’t something that makes a damn lick of sense without the thought terminating cliche that “Zionists writ large support all actions of the state of Israel and the melting of Palestinian lives”

But who is a Zionist? Is it a person who labels themselves as such? Are they a Jew who is merely standing for their people? Because this shit is exactly how persecutors of Jewish people in the past operate. People were kicked out of their homes for being labeled “Zionists”. Had their property seized for being “Zionists”. Were POGROMED for being “Zionists”.

You don’t find it odd that so many people who do label themselves as Zionists are lock step with progressive politics in English speaking countries, and especially in the US? You don’t think that’s the least bit curious?

Hashem give me the fucking strength to handle the refusal to “talk to your neighbor”of these goyishe lunatics.

And BEFORE you jump down my motherfucking throat, I’m a non-Zionist only because the state of Israel exists. It’s here. Zionist dream realized. So I needn’t declare myself for an ideology that has ostensibly achieved its goal. But you must acknowledge that this choice of label is not how most Jews view Zionism. Hell, I still question it myself.

But if you choose to label me a Zionist because I want peace and coexistence for all peoples with historical, ethnic, cultural and religious ties to the land we refer to as Israel-Palestine and recognize the complete and utter impossibility of kicking anyone out, then fine.

Be a fool.

Feed the dogs of war.

Spare me your “I love Jews” michegas.

I’m eating another latke and holding my community and real allies tighter.

And just so you all understand this in English:

May all of your teeth fall out save the one that aches.

Shmucks.

[iced-souls]

OC PRIDE APPRECIATION WEEK 4: AUSTIN!

Last week we got ma goyl Austin!!

another simple one, but she’s from my Auto-Mundus universe, taking the role of the old grandma robot.

Young and in her prime she almost thought she was aromantic because she could never find a person who she genuinely loved, with the fabled butterflies in the stomach and wanting to spend the rest of her life with. She would’ve stuck with that identity, but for her it just never felt right, since she still had some kind of attraction towards different people, just not any outspoken ones.

As she older, all her friends around her would go in and out of relationships, and she would see them in their happiest when others were together, and so obvious PEER PRESSURE she wanted that, and the focus on finding a relationship became more bothersome the longer it went on for.

Even older and more in the future, she decided for herself that all that worry for a partner wasn’t good for her, so she was just going to come to peace with it and play the waiting game. Where maybe one day she’d find the one for her, maybe not. And ever since she’s been living her life peacefully, making more and more friends and child-figures lmao. Grandma robo.

Does she find someone in the end do you ask?? Sort of.

She and her best-friend, Lennox, eventually have a lil something together, but once they see something there, Lennox being first haha, they’re both very slow into trying something. But this is a hundred years after Austin’s creation or something, and Austin has parts that aren’t as available in the modern time and getting rusty, and Lennox is always being upgraded, so unfortunately the last time they see each other is pretty much the first time they confess to each other. Which makes me sad and happy because to Austin that’s probably one of the happiest days of her life.

Anywho, that’s all for her!

have an extra image hehe:

[hey-op-just-kill-me]

The desire to drop out of college and never go back is so fucking strong… but I can’t quit something without feeling bad about it for a decade later so I really don’t know what to do

[ranger-danger]

Alright so I think I’ve figured out my two favorite part pairings in datv, and don’t be that surprised when I tell you it’s with my favorite companions, but uhhh it’s Davrin & Harding (just because they fit nicely in combat) and Bellara & Harding (because I love their banter). Also I think I might be allergic to Bellara and Emmerich in the same room.

Not that I use these pairs that often, since I like to keep it balanced out.

[dulcento]

i know what you are

the baddest bitch with the fattest, juiciest, ushy gushiest pussy? thank you twinnie, i know 💗

[tonycries]

Madam.

Synopsis. Your clan leader husband only wants one thing - an heir.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! JJK men, BRÉEDING, creampíes, talks of heirs, they’re REALLY pússydrúnk, cúmplay, exhibítionism (Geto, Gojo), the elders, use of “ma’am” and “madam”, overstím, making him shoot BLANKS, matíng presses, chokíng, true form Sukuna, dp, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. If this doesn’t post I’m living up to my username.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Madam Zenin

“Please-” Toji’s panting out in ragged heavals, teeth sinking into any raw inch of unclaimed skin down the tender column of your neck. “Please- t-take-”

And he can’t even finish his sentence, can’t even finish his staggering gasp when his toned hips thwack like he was going painfully out of control.

With a leering groan, his strong arm slams! down to grasp desperately onto the headboard overhead, mouth dipping thoroughly drunkenly to press wet peck after peck onto your lips. 

“Oh- oh-” He thumbs urgently down the side of your bulging folds to coat each and every one of his thick digits in a sheeny gloss of white. Eyes drooping half-shut when he’s popping those sopping wet fingers into his mouth. Tasting. “Oh, look at that- s’like she’s jus’ begging f’me to hngh- fill her up all over again, ma.”

“T-Toji–” Your nails claw angry red pathways down his flexing deltoids, in a way that Toji would let only you do. “Don’t know if a-anymore will fit-”

“B-but aren’t ya gonna give me an ah- heir, madam?”

With a roughened grunt, he’s jostling your limp legs to lock up even tighter around his neck, the sloppiest mating press he’d even manhandled you into. Baring such a feral grin that makes you realize within your heady mind that neither of you just might be making it out of tonight alive. 

You don’t even know how it started - didn’t have a clue. One minute you’re at another stuffy clan gathering, speaking with a few other clan leaders from across the country; and the next, Toji’s all but dragging you towards the closest bedroom in your estate. 

Rotund knees slipping and sliding across that ever-growingly sticky pool of seed dawning on the silken blankets. 

But Toji can’t even bring himself to be disgusted, no, he wants more.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck s’too deep- hngh-”

“No-” he chokes out throatily. “S’not deep enough.”

Shakily, he’s splaying out his greedy fingers about halfway across your stomach, swiping across for that familiar nudge where he can feel his swollen tip glide wet gushes of swelteringly hot precum across your bruised g-spot. Where he was knocking into your very womb-

“There.”  And without any warning, he’s pressing down - hard. Mean mouth dropping softly in awe at those saccharine sweet dredges of his cum drooling down your thighs, drip drip dripping in thick ribbons to paint a creamy ring around his reddened base. “N-now ya have space, dontcha, doll?”

One of his calloused palms slides down to attach to your squirming waist. “Don’t- don’t run away, ma—” And you swear you could hear his rumbling baritone crack ever-so-slightly at the very end of his words. Hips sloppying up the very insides of your thighs with every harsh smack! “Haven’t f-filled up this cute cunt all the way yet- ah h-haven’t oh- fucked a baby into ya.”

The rounded edges of his digits swirl in such a sultry way around your soppingly wet clit, leaving tiny swats! that make the puddle of cum and your sweet, sweet slick splatter.  “S-see, so much of it gone to ah- waste. How am I s-s’pposed to show off to those fuckers who my pretty hngh- wife is. The pretty momma of my heirs–?”

Your bleary eyes snap open, a broken whine on the very edge of your heavy tongue. “S-so this is what s’all about- you were j-”

But his rummaging thrusts are too much. Inch after girthy inch being fed into your drooling pussy, you could feel his voluminous loads of cum sloshing around your gummy walls. Clinging to you so syrupy - and Toji couldn’t stop.

He didn’t even know if he could cum again, whether it was possible. But fuck, if he wasn’t going to try.

Dark brows scrunching together in ecstasy, strands of his soft hair sticking to his sweat-simmered forehead. His body hunches over with such a sensitive gasp, skin burning when he’s feeling his fat, cum-filled balls squeeze. Once. Twice. 

Driving him mad.

“Y-yeah so what-” he’s grumbling out gutturally, and his eyes roll to the very back of his head. “Shit, hate those m-meetings. Hate those no-good bastards.” Teeth tugging on your wobbly bottom lip, “-so what if I wan’ show off- to have you so round and- and glowing that they know what I did, ma?”

The thought is enough for him to bark out a drunken bout of laughter. Humorless. Sleazy. Over and over where he’s rummaging at your melty insides. “They’ll know they’ll know- oh, th-they’ll know how I made ya mine.” Smearing a wet glide of seed down your throbbingly neglected clit. “How I hngh- f-fucked a baby into ya. How s’me that filled ya up- all me-”

And it’s just about all it takes for you to cum - for him to cum.

But Toji’s so fucking hypnotized by your heavenly pussy that he barely even realizes at first. Just letting his entire hulking body shudder with a trail of violent shivers, bowing enough to graze that raised scar of his positioned on his lips against yours. Soft. “Gonna be the clan momma- hngh- clan ah-”

Scratching back and forth back and forth back and forth- while he’s cumming blanks.

Angry, sobbing divot at the very end of his length shooting out wispy little beads of white. Again. And again. 

You’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Toji- Toji might just be seeing heaven. With you right there, his pretty angel.

And he feels your skin underneath his sharpened canines. Biting into the crook of your neck so hard it was like he was out for blood.

“Me-” he giggles. Giggles. Shamelessly bringing forth two rude fingers to pry open your whiny mouth, “Me me me me- every other clan’s gonna see you and- hah- see me-” Punctuated with drippingly wet ruts of his hips, not even thrusts anymore. He didn’t have the sanity. And he spits a wad of honeyed saliva right onto your taste-buds, “-because you’re mine, aren’t ya, madam?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Madam Nanami

Nanami thinks he might just be drunk - hypnotized - anything and everything that’s keeping him from paying attention to the important clan meeting currently at hand.

And of course, it was utterly your fault.

“My love…” Nanami’s deepened voice hums lowly in your ear from behind. His thick fingers curl roughly around your waist, holding your shifting hips in place. “We’re at a meeting.”

You’re batting your lashes as the haughty elders speaking over each other, sounding so utterly unapologetic when you leer smugly up at your husband. “What? M’jus’ getting-” And he can only suck in a shudderingly sharp gust of air when you grind your ass down even harder on his lap, dragging your sodden panties up to where he was rock-hard. “-comfortable, Ken.”

Over and over. Your puffed-up pussy lips positioned just above his fat, weepy head.

It’s been like this for too long now. And Nanami could feel his sanity dancing away, he could feel it building up within him. He was going to-

His drunkenly half-lidded eyes veer down at you, and you catch the way that his stern jaw clenches. Gritting through clenched teeth, “You’re going to be in trouble, ma’am.”

“So what?”

SLAM!

And it’s like Nanami couldn’t stand up fast enough, couldn’t shove your pretty body down onto the cool mahogany urgently enough. One hand of his long fingers curled around your throat, the other flicking towards the door, “All of you out. Now.”

Not even bothering to look towards whether or not they’d scrambled towards the door before your seepingly soaked panties are pulled just enough to the side. 

He grunts, “Pretty–”

Barely even a split-second later before you’re being stuffed with inch after veined inch of Nanami’s girthy cock. He’s letting his head fall backwards, a leering dribble of drool placing down the corner of his lips already, toned hips snapping forwards at the clingy push and pull of your slobbering cunt. 

And it feel so unfairly good when he sinks in with a few ragged breaths, so unfairly heavenly-

“Spit.” Nanami’s choking out, mouth falling slack, sculpted front pressed down bruisingly at your back. Keeping you stuck pinned underneath nothing but him and his mercilessly pressurized jackhammers. And you do - saccharine sweet saliva hitting his tongue- “Fuck fuck fuck, you feel s-so-”

And the clan leader can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed, can’t do anything but slur out a staggered mantra of your name over and over when that’s all it takes for him to cum. 

Voice lilting up to a pathetic pitch, every wavering gush of seed having his head lolling. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, he heaves. 

Far from finished.

“Can’t- can’t believe I-” The back of one of his thumbs comes to dredge up the gleaming white sheen of cum, and he’s going wild with the honeyed taste on his tongue as soon as he’s sucking. “Oh, were ya th-this wet throughout the entire ah- meeting, my love?”

You shiver at the way his still-fattened cockhead was nudging you open, the stretch so maddening. Your cunt so tight. “M-maybe-”

Smack!

And it’s like he’s thoroughly drunk on your pussy already when his soft palm splays out across the sting on your ass, gushing out in another sticky ribbon of seed down your g-spot. And another. He couldn’t stop- You can feel it swiveling slowly around your elastic walls. 

Fuck, just your tone makes his hefty balls squeeze, so tight and painful with every stingingly wet thwack! thwack! thwack! against your cunt.

He hauls you upwards like some ragdoll with the vice-like grip around your throat. “Th-tha’s not ‘nough, darling-” he’s purring, nosing down your neck. “The m-madam’s gotta use her ngh- big girl words, no?”

You feel those tufts of blond scratch teasingly against the fat of your ass, rummaging the swollen length of his cock down every nook and cranny he could reach - every single one. Thump thump thumping! furiously against all of your tenderized sweetened spots. “C’mon now- tell me. Tell me what ya want so badly.”

“P-please-” Your mouth slacks in awe, “Want you to cum inside- to bre-”

Because Nanami Kento would give his madam anything. Anything. 

Even if that has him pummeling his achingly hard cock into your even further, deftly covering your mouth with one of his palms. He’s huffing out in a feverish puff against your ear, “Mhm- did s-so well- now let your hngh- husband take care of it now, honey-” Kissing down the side of your forehead, he hikes up one muscular thigh to drivel his cock into you sloppier. Wrenching out loud squelches. “-let’s hear what this p-pretty pussy has to say now- let’s let’s hear-”

He was out of control. 

Oh, he’s like a broken record, fighting with every shred of will left in his hunched-over body to stop his babbling mouth.

Pressing gentle kiss after kiss all over your face, fingers at your neck tightening. While his hips were rattling off the most mean crashes into your g-spot. 

“I think–she’s saying-” Nanami’s dark groan sends shivers down your spine, hissing through his bared canines when your back arches even sluttier. Jostling at the perfect angle for him to pool the trail of milky cum dribbling from your soppingly wet lips onto two pads of his fingers, a glistening gloss all the way down to his wrist. And, this time, he’s plugging the creamy wads back into your overly stuffed cunt. Bullying. Stretching. “-that…”

Shit, he was going to cum again. 

You felt too good. And he swears he’s going to marry you all over again.

“Wh-what-” you’re crying. Begging. Knees weakening to such an extent that your husband was gladly supporting your full body weight with one big beefy arm wrapped snugly around your waist. “-tell me, K-Ken-”

Ah, he truly was nothing against you.

He rasps in a low whisper against your ear, “-that I wanna make ya a pretty momma, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Madam Geto

“Easy, girl, easy–” Geto’s silken purr made your thighs just quiver, gasps stuttering in your throat. “You could think of it as jus’ you n’ me.”

And he’s batting his dewy lashes down at you - his wife - shit, just thinking of the word was enough to have his cock twitch animalistically inside the very depths of your snug cunt. 

Glissading his soft palms underneath your thighs to spread them even shamefully wider, making you keen at the utterly mean way he was folding you into a full nelson - all for them to see through the bed’s half-opaque curtains. The elders. The council. His pearly white teeth sink into your ear lobe, eyes drooping more and more close-lidded with every one of your squelching clenches. “Or…we could give ‘em a show?”

Ah, truly, this was Geto’s least favorite part of the marriage initiation - being watched on your wedding night. Or, at least, it was. 

He feels drunk on your pretty pussy already when he’s rutting up in mindless, languid drags of his hefty cock down your velvety walls. Filing up every free inch of space inside your snug cunt with his swollen cock - every free inch. 

You’re sputtering out at his ragged pace, squirming down sultry gyrations against his defined hips. “W-wan’ to give them a show, Sugu-”

And oh that was enough to have your all-new husband’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, to have his humorless bout of laughter ring in your ear. Dangerous. “The new madam’s gonna be the death of me, g-gorgeous-”

He was already planting pound after pound on all your most tender spots, fucking away like he was addicted to the lewd smack of skin-on-skin. Loud enough to drown out those low mutters from around the bed. About to lose it if he couldn’t feel the smoothened drag of your elastic walls massaging down his veins for just a second-

“Really wanna give ‘em a hngh- sh-show?” Geto’s echoing against your ear, still in utter disbelief at those filthy, filthy words spilling from your sweet mouth. Slender fingers glide across to your puffy clit, pinching. “Then how about–” Fucking heaving for air, scrambling to prattle out coherently, “-ya show ‘em jus’ how the next Geto heir is made.”

His hips are stuttering up at an almost inhuman pace, long locks splaying out into those plush pillows. Shit, the only thing keeping his head still held up was the sight of you down below.

The way your ravaged pussy lips were bulging around his fat girth, struggling to take him entirely even after so long. But swallowing and swallowing so greedily that it made his throat dry, eyes blinking open desperately to catch the way his twitchy balls smacked your drooling cunt. 

“The next h-heir?” The words are just now registering, and just about all you can do right now is let your head loll backwards to graze a wet kiss along Geto’s blooming pink lips. “M’gonna make ya a d-daddy?”

Fuck- he rams his hips up thoroughly. Stuffing you full of so many of his staggering, solid inches that you’re being fucked stupid. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Geto pants out, and you feel his curvaceous pecs heave up and down with each of his ragged breaths. “-g-gonna let me make you a pretty hah- momma, aren’t ya?” Craning his arm around to press onto your womb, smear his palms through every inch of skin he could reach. “Let me f-fill ya up? Have you all hngh round n’ glowing f’me? Pretty- gonna be s-so so pretty–”

God, his voice was so hypnotic. 

But no one was thrown into a more feverish desperation than Geto himself.

He’s letting plaster a pussydrunken grin at the stares around your sweat-slicked bodies - some wide, some downturned, all shocked at just how completely he was ruining you. 

Ruining himself. 

Because soon enough shaky babbles are wrenching out from his lips, unsteady. Needy. “Makes me wanna m-marry ya I swear-” 

Planting his two feet flat on the bouncy mattress to ram his weepy cockhead in rummaging swipes even faster, head whirling at every gushing clench. He leaves teary, overstimulated kisses down the side of your face. “-make you my hngh- wife- my madam. Make you the m-mother of my heir.”

You’re giggling, barely-lucid yourself. “M’already your ah- wife, Sugu–”

Fuck-

He didn’t think those would be the very words to send him over the edge - hell, he didn’t think his orgasm would be crashing into him this hard, either. Good, it felt too good.

Because you melty walls mold around him so tightly that Geto whines at how difficult it was for him to be spearheading his fat cock into your gooey insides. So cozy - and then you’re gushing.

Making his overworked, achy mouth fall in awe at the sheer way your dripping cunt was coating him in seeping wet waves of your juices. Glossing him in a translucent sheen - so fucking heavenly that he almost doesn’t realize that he’s cumming. 

Pouring out thick stringy wads of his seed that french kisses the very bottom of your pussy. There’s so much of it that Geto can feel his swollen balls jolt, a swirling coat of cum creaming down his shaft. 

Oozing out slowly, in a way that makes his mouth water, “You’re right–” he breathes. So quiet, so broken that it takes a second for your ringing ears to hear him. He chuckles, “-so now m’only b-behind on givin’ you my ah- heir.”

In a split-second, his powerful reflexes are pinning your back flat against the soft mattress, puffing out all the air out of your lungs with just how greedily he was shoving you. Your legs thrown over his shoulders, sliding at the perspiration, his cock smack! smack! smacking right on your clit. 

Geto tilts his head towards your initiation audience, grinning. “Better keep yer heads down while I f-fuck the future mother of my ah- kids. Or I’ll kill ya.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Madam Kamo

“F-fuuuuck-” Choso really can’t help the way that his rawly red lips fall slack, he really can’t help the way his eyes droop even more pussydrunkenly lower. On his knees. Tongue lolling out to drag roughly across your sopping wet folds. “Might jus’ be addicted, baby—”

Your fingers thread even tighter into this long, sweat-dampened strands of hair. Tugging, pulling - but no amount of force could ever stop Choso Kamo from French-kissing his way to your clit. 

“Ch-Cho you have to be oh-” you’re cut off with a sudden surging moan. Frantically covering your mouth with your free hand when he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub and sucks. “-t-to be quiet. We’re gonna get caught.”

That tiny inkling of rationality in Choso’s syrupy mind knows that maybe the chambers of his childhood estate wasn’t the best of places to utterly ravage you. 

Knows that maybe - just maybe - he should tone down those honeyed squelches being reeled from your sopping wet cunt. Push back the rasping ah! ah! ah! resounding at the back of his throat, if he didn’t want to be caught by the rest of the Kamo clan.

But oh, you just tasted so good-

“C-can’t help it, baby–” the clan leader’s whining, teary lashes fluttering up at you. Shoving you weakly standing against the wall, pouty mouth twisting into a delirious smile, “-why did you have to g-go n’ act all motherly with hngh- Yuji.”

Shit, those drawling words almost hurt Choso to be able to wrench out. They threw his mind into such a syrupy state, and had his swollen, achy cock twitch with another ribbony ooze of translucent precum. Drip! drip! dripping through his yukata and onto the tatami floor. 

With a pathetically broken whimper, he’s gripping on tight to the fattened hilt of his shaft. Hissing at the stark coldness against his swelteringly hot length, “Shouldn’t h-have done that oh- shouldn’t have-”

He was addicted. 

Burying himself in so deep that Choso doesn’t even need air right now. Nose meshing against the very top of your drooling pussy lips, chin grinding against you with each trail of his scorching hot tongue back and forth back and forth back and-

“Sh-shit, Cho-” you’re gasping, back arching in such a slutty bow. “-that i-is what this is all about?” 

It was. But right now he couldn’t even think of describing exactly what those tiny, domestic gestures did to him. How it’d awoken such a deep, primal part of himself. 

So instead, he’s jostling one of your weakening thighs up onto his broad shoulder. Roughly attaching the pads of his fingers onto your wrist, tongue only growing more hypnotically hungry. “Love you-” he spits into your pussy. Wet, sopping wads of spit that connect in delicate strings all the way down to the lower half of his innocently flushed face. “-love you love you, my madam. Love you so-” His noble cheeks hollow around your clit,  “-much. Hgnh- love you- what a p-perfect momma you’d make, baby–”

And then suddenly your ears feel like popping when your body wracks with waves of your orgasm. Over and over you’re cumming on Choso’s pretty face and he’s loving it.

Guiding both of your trembly hands onto his head, he makes you drag your slobbering cunt all down his features - using him.

Wrist aching with just how fast he was swirling his thick thumb around his rotund head, up and down up and down.

“Yeah- yeah-” his words are hoarse little whines. Eyes half-lidded shut at the gushing waves of your saturated slick, he’s blowing sloppy kisses around your winking hole. “Use me- use me. A-anything for you, baby- please- s’more baby– my wife-” 

It practically hurts to pull away.

And your dripping pussy is left with the final vibrations of Choso’s disappointed moan- before he’s surging up unsteadily onto two feet. 

One of his massive palms resting greedily underneath the globes of your ass, hoisting you up to kiss the very edges of your swollen folds with his fat cockhead. Gliding across a see-through glisten of precum before he’s cumming.

“Fuck.” 

“Shhh, q-quiet, baby-”

Choso wrangles his fingers deftly around his thickened base, biting down hard on his lower lip when he squeezes out dripping wet load after load onto into your sloppy entrance. Fucking his hand ever-so-slightly to just milk out more and more, “C-can I put it inside, baby? Please, baby?” His babbling mouth drags against your own, not even capable of managing a kiss right now. “-wanna fill you up n’ make you allll mine, y’know? Wanna- please.”

You let out a honeyed giggle, smoothing down the big fat tears that’d started to roll their way down Choso’s eyes. “Of course, you can. No n-need to be shy, Cho.”

And you’re barely even finishing your sentence, the words only halfway registering Choso’s hazy brain before he’s plugging you full of his circular girth. “G-god jus’ being inside s’making me hngh cum again.” Streaming out whatever dredges are left of his cum-filled balls. “Please- give me an heir- please- a lil baby-”

It’s trailing down the end of your puffy slit, and Choso can’t help but gasp a sharp inhale when he’s pooling the milky dribble on his fingers. “D-do you think this got you p-pregnant, baby?”

“Maybe…” you’re humming in that smug tone that does anything but wonders for his sanity. “Might hafta hah- try it out again jus’ to make sure, don’t you think, Mr. Clan leader?”

There’s a sudden clack! as he’s dropping to his knees, barely even giving you a second to realize anything before Choso’s ravenous mouth was heated on your messy cunt once more. 

Dragging his tongue across the milky outer layer, so filthy. Every pearlescent bead pooling on his tongue - and he just spits it back sloppily onto your cunt. Depraved. 

“B-be quiet f’me, baby–” he’s hushing you in a drunken soothe. “Gotta make space.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Madam of Curses

“Kuna…” Your babbles are music to the king’s ears, and he can feel his sleazy grin plastered all over his face already. “-I-I want…”

Smack!

“Now, what have I told ya, brat?” The sharpened lengths of his black fingernails brush up on your plump clit. Sukuna’s rumbling warning blooms such delicious clenches of your gummy walls around his jostling cocks, forcing him to hold back a moan, “If ya want somethin’, don’t stutter.”

Well, Ryomen Sukuna would give you the moon if you so much as glanced at it with want - stutter or not. But times like this made his swollen tips twitch to tease those irritated mewls out of you.

You’re stubbornly wrapping your trembly arms around his hulking shoulders, just barely able to wrap around his muscles. Glassy eyes narrowing, “I want a baby, Kuna-”

Fuck, you might just have broken him. You’ve finally defeated the strongest sorcerer in history. Because those very words spilling from your pretty lips have his chest heaving with a deep inhale, his entire body bowing when his angry cocks gush excitedly inside of you. Smearing your melty walls with wave after dangerous wave of his steaming hot precum.

“Wh-what?” he’s hissing through clenched canines, devilish red eyes honing in on you as if you were his next meal. Hauling your body all the way down those silken sheets, until he’s spearheading his rotund tips right into your cervix. “Don’t talk outta ya pussy, woman.”

“B-but it’s true-” you’re sobbing at this point. Batting your lashes at him in a way that he knew you were pulling out your dirtiest tricks. “-dontcha hngh- want an heir, baby?”

Heir.

Oh, fuck. Heir. 

Just the word has Sukuna’s head throwing backwards, snarling growls ripping from his strangled throat when his hefty balls clench in excitement. Just the word enough to get him to cum, but no-

“No.” His hot breath blankets your face, and before you’re able to bare him with that glossy pout of yours, Sukuna sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. Pulling. “I want two.”

And it’s like something snaps.

Because in an instant, he’s flipping the two of you over, until your snug cunt was filled to the brim with both matchingly hefty cocks. Sliding down, down, down. Sukuna’s creeping one of his large hands to your thighs, nudging them even more shamefully open.

He’s gifting the curve of your ass with a stinging swat, grinning, “If ya wan’ my heirs s-so badly then ride me for it, brat.”

And fuck, Sukuna underestimated how sheerly eager you’d be, shuffling your hand precariously onto his bulging pecs. Bouncing up and down on the rock-hard upright curve of his cocks like you were addicted to it.

God, he could feel those hoarse whimpers bubbling up into his throat. He could feel the way his heavy lids were fluttering shut every time your velvety walls constricted tightly around his girths, swirling around in wet gyrations. 

And he finds it in himself to laugh - laugh, “Oh- oh god, I shoulda done this hngh- sooner. Soo much sooner-” Running those pinkish strands hastily out of his eyesight to drink you in even better, “Woulda b-been able to see what a cockdrunk slut the madam of curses becomes f’me, isn’t that right?”

All you can do is nod pathetically, and he’s gesturing his head much the same way in a half-mocking sense. Simpering, “Mhm– really wan’ me to fuck- fill you right up-” Running down one of his palms across your abdomen, “-here, right? Want to get p-pregnant on my cocks, brat? Should jus’ said so sooner-”

Sukuna can’t stop now. He doesn’t even know when it started but right now that slurring nonsense was tumbling out of his slack-jawed mouth faster than he could register it. 

Rutting his hips up like an animal to plant pound after pound into your already battered insides, rummaging around his fat cocks. 

One of his mean thumbs comes up to massage over that inflationary little bump where he could feel himself spearheading into your g-spot and your cervix. At the same time. “Jus’ like this, heh- j-jus’ like this but yer gonna be ngh- so much rounder, s-so much-” And one of his globular divots weep a stream of milky precum. So close. “-fuller. Gonna give me t-two, huh? Two brats- a girl and a boy.”

Milking himself for all that he’s worth, it’s impossible not to get absolutely hypnotized by the sultry grinds of your hips.

It’s all that he can think about right now.

Sukuna feels his tongue loll out - both of them, much larger one veering from that slit on his stomach to drag sloppy stripes up the areas of your puffed up clit. Rolling over the very peak, “Ngh- gonna have y-your pretty eyes n’ my hair. My strength and fuuuuck- so tight- your smile.” His eyes clench droopingly closed, glaring up at you lovingly. “Isn’t that right, my queen?”

And when you cum, it’s with those same eyes on you - and when he does, shit, they’re rolling to the back of his head.

Decadently royal bed creaking with protest at the aggressive crushes of your sweat-sheened bodies. Sukuna couldn’t get enough when one of his angrily rugged cocks cums, the swirling slosh of his warm seed spurring the other to burst just as much.

“Sh-shit-” you’re gasping, toes curling with the explosion of bliss. Peak after peak being fucked out when your shaky knees firm to ride Sukuna out of his mind. “So much- too much- fuck fuck fuck-”

He’s stirring your insides until you’re overspilling, flashes of white-hot pleasure melding with the steady stream of Sukuna’s voluminous cum seeping from your wet slit. 

So much of it that he really can’t help but swipe his larger tongue easily across the absolute mess of a puddle. And you swear you hear his voice crack, “Heh, guess ya r-really were talking outta ya ngh- pussy, huh, woman?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Madam Gojo

“Let them see-” Gojo’s panting, fingers so jittery where he’s pushing your trembly leg apart. Abs rippling and aching with just how long he’s been wracking his fatigued body. He’s kissing hungrily at your lips, “Let them- let them see- fuck I don’t care don’t-”

And Gojo can’t even bear to think about finishing his sentence before he’s being hit with another vicious clench of his sensitive balls. Heaving out another burst of stars behind his eyes. He throws his head back, teeth grit when his angry cockhead spazzes with another dry orgasm. 

You’re blinking back the tears in your eyes, reaching up and arm to wipe away his own. “S-s’okay, Toru- we’ve been at this for hngh- hours.”

“No-” Gojo gasps, snowy brows knitting together furiously. And he’s shaking his head like he’s trying to wash away any thoughts of stopping. Because Gojo Satoru didn’t want to stop. Didn’t know if he could stop. 

His bleary eyes focus on the circle of elders standing stock-still at the very end of the traditional tatami room, heads bowed so low that they touched the floor. 

“I’ve got s-somethin’ to prove-” And another one of his harsh French-kisses into your very bruised cervix sends a gush of his stringy cum glossing down your inner thighs. Slipping and smearing everywhere when Gojo messily dances his fingers up to roll over your puffed-up clit. “-got to show ‘em. T-talking about fuck- my wife n’ my h-heir. Gonna show them-”

And you’ve never seen him this furious, blazing eyes driving down your body. Seeping into every one of his lewd movements when he’s drilling his swollen cock into your dripping cunt even more riotously. 

No care or concern for the marks he’s sure to leave for the next week at least - his curvaceous balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, fingers everywhere and anywhere on any bit of skin that his ravenous self could reach.

Gojo couldn’t get enough.

Your pussy lips like velvet, swallowing him up inch by solid inch so greedily despite however long it’s been by now. An hour? Two hours? Five? Fuck, he doesn’t even know right now. Doesn’t care. 

Doesn’t care what those shuffling elders have to think, either.

Can’t even imagine thinking about anything but stuffing your tight channel overly full, eyeing down with his hazy gaze at the way that makes his seed salivate out of you. He twists his deft fingers on your clit, it’s enough for your teeth to just sink into the tender junction at his throat. 

And it makes him cum.

Sensitively. Depravedly. 

Over and over in dry grinds of his hips, while his overstimulated head wrenches out nothing but wispy little beads of pearling white. 

“A-again?” you’re gasping. Eyes blowing wide and resting on Gojo’s fucked-out face - oh how pretty the clan leader looked. With his innocently rosy blush, and eyes drooping so low it’s like they were almost shut, mouth pecking syrupy glides across yours. “Did you just ah- c-cum again, Toru?”

He shutters his head into your throat, darting out his tongue to run down that rapidly thumping pulse of yours. “Yes, madam. Your pretty pussy’s got me s-so fuck- hooked. Can’t s-stop-”

But he wanted to cum again. Properly, this time.

To fill you up over and over, adding another layer to the sloppy skin of creamy white that already stuck to your cunt. He was going to make those old gossips pay for having your name in their filthy mouths, for implying that their leader doesn’t fuck you properly if you haven’t had an heir by now. 

He was simply going to show it to them.

“Need- ah- need you to cum f’me a-again, sweetheart-” Gojo’s babbling out the words, but his greedy eyes are locked on the sinful sight of your cunt, instead. “C-can you do that? Can the future m-mother of my kids do that?” It pains him to be slurring these out over your pretty keens, and he’s swiping a finger over and over on your clit as a tiny apology. “C’mon now, n-need to give me an mmpf- heir, right?”

You nod, hips arching up to make you feel like such a slut. “W-want it so badly–”

“I know, honey, I know–” his words come out in raw whimpers, cupping your face with his free hand to connect your foreheads together. “Which is wh-why you’ve gotta shit- cum, right? They say you don’t get p-pregnant if the hah- mother doesn’t cum, hm? C’mon baby, gimme an heir- please, please, please let me breed you f-full-”

It’s just about all the garbled mess he’s able to get out of his mouth before Gojo’s reeling you headfirst towards your nth orgasm of the night. Waves of pleasure making you convulse underneath him, forcing his big beefy arms to wrap around your waist to get you to stop moving-

“Shit-” he’s gasping, eyes blowing almost comically wide. “M’cumming, sweetheart- m’cumming again- fuck fuck fuck- can’t stop, can’t h-hold back.”

His drool-worthy back muscles flex when Gojo’s bending all the way down to snap you in half. And you feel his heavy hanging balls twitch once. Twice. Before flooding your tight pussy with thick, smearing loads of cum, glissading down your thighs.

Spurts of it splatter down your slit, all the way to Gojo’s wrist when he’s circling your throbbing clit to wring you even harder through your high.

“Th-there we- there we go-” he’s shuddering, bursts of his hefty gulps of cum swirling around all of your sweetened spots. Stretching out your taut walls to their limits with how much he was inflating you from the insides. And it takes everything in Gojo to stray his eyes away from his wife - from his madam. Everything in him to focus on the crowd of silent elders, “So- s’that ‘nough of an heir for you or do I hafta make another one?”

A/N. Also hugging my babygirls in the US of A extra tight tonight <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nevermoor-batty]

DO YOU FUCKING SEE MY SWEATER? It was I think withe. IM SURE YOU HAVE IT SIB NOW YOU ROBB AND HOSTEGE REHEN SO MANY TIMES I MEAN GIVE ME THE FUSS SWEATER BACK or at least give me some time to recreate another account in Twitter to fuss follow your im sorry you thing PLEASE LOVE

is this from a bot

[luveline]

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]

c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

Spencer wakes to an empty room. 

He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.

He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 

Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 

Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 

A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.

Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 

He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 

You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 

Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 

“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.

He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 

You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?

“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 

“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 

“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”

“I…” 

“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 

“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 

He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?

“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 

Your fingers slip into his with ease. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 

“Of course you can.” 

He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 

“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 

You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 

“What happened to you?” he asks. 

Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 

“What…” 

“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 

“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.

“Spencer?” 

Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 

His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 

“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 

“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 

“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 

Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 

—

“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 

You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 

“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 

“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 

Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 

“But I do eventually?” 

“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 

You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 

“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 

“Sort of,” Spencer says. 

It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 

“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 

Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 

You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”

“Not you?” he asks. 

You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 

When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 

You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 

“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 

“Uh.” 

“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 

He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”

Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 

“You dog,” Derek says. 

“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 

“I do know you,” Spencer says. 

“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 

Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 

“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 

Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 

“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 

“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 

“Every week?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

“We’re never apart?” he asks. 

His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 

“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 

Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 

Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 

“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 

“We do?” 

“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 

“We did?”

You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 

“How do you love?” 

His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 

“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 

“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 

“I just can’t believe this is happening.”

You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 

He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 

“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”

It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 

“Anything.” 

He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 

“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 

“Who wouldn’t like you?” 

“But did you?” 

He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 

“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 

You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 

“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 

“What do you think?” 

“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”

He gives a choky laugh. 

The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 

Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 

“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 

“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”

Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 

Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”

“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 

“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 

“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 

“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 

Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.

—

It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 

You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 

Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.

Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 

He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 

Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 

“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”

You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 

You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 

“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 

You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 

He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 

You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 

He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 

You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 

He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”

“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 

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thanks for reading!

[badolmen]

I’m tired yall.