#bc it would be hard to watch instead of funny

[dafpork]

it really is so, so nice having such a vast frame of reference for these characters. i've had many of these thoughts and headcanons for so many years that they've sort of coagulated into their own Thing, and so sometimes i'll be like "man where did i even get this from? am i honoring the shorts? am i just making stuff up?" but then i'll go back and revisit and there'll be one short that has an extremely miniscule detail that has drastically affected my interpretation of these characters and i will then bask in my victoriousness in, No, i did not make it up. and the fact that these guys are so versatile that this can practically apply to anything

[awrkive]

summary: where you and jungkook love to play the push and pull game

w/c: 4.7k

warnings/misc: idol!jk x (fem)producer!reader. the usual. mean words being exchanged to each other in the name of banter 😕 they dk how to be nice to e/o and i enjoy writing that way too much methinks. explicit sexual content (penetrative s*x, unprotected s*x, c*wgirl position, d*ggy, shower s*x, cre*mpie, dirty talk) idk what happened but there is angst here

note: due to popular demand here is pt 2 🤩🤩 i actually kinda have more ideas for this universe tbh and would love to go thru with it but it def depends so dont expect anything!! anywho. hope u enjoy!!!!! its unedited tho will fix later

index: part 1 | pt. 2

jeon jk. (bighit) [10:25pm]: im stressed i need to eat you out  jeon jk. (bighit) [10:50pm]: whats taking u so long to answer?  jeon jk. (bighit) [10:58pm]: will it kill you to reply

you [11:31pm]: shut up i just got off class 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:32pm]: who gets off class at 12 fucking midnight  jeon jk. (bighit) [11:33pm]: are you fucking ur professor again jeon jk. (bighit) [11:36pm]: who was that. kim namjin. the lame ass linguistics prpfessor

you [11:40pm]: kim namjoon* and if im fucking him again whats it to you?  you [11:40pm]: hes not lame and hes got a bigger dick than you 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:41pm]: yeah by like 0.05 inch. 

you [11:43pm]: if thats what makes you sleep at night ig 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:44pm]: funny bcs who did you come back to after all that? def not namjan

you [11:46pm]: only bcs u send me stupid shit like “im stressed need to eat u out” when u dont get to fuck me 

jeon jk. (bighit) [11:46pm]: youre infuriating as hell

you [11:46pm]: I literally do not care. 

Your doorbell rings for the second time. Rolling your eyes, you let out a loud sigh and drop your highlighter on your book, dragging your feet to the doorway and opening it against your will. 

“What the fuck took so long?” Is what Jungkook welcomes you with, taking off his black mask aggressively and stepping inside the threshold without you even inviting him inside.

You lock the door again, watching as Jungkook expertly navigates the space of your apartment, used to the way he heads to the kitchen with ease where he places the – you noticed it just now – bags of take-out on the counter. 

“I told you, I can’t get into anything right now. I have to study for a test.” You cross your arms under your chest, following him. You stop by the counter across Jungkook, looking at him as he opens your fridge to get a bottle of water. 

He’s worn all black from head to toe for obvious reasons because you live downtown and near Gangnam, and there’s no way nobody would recognize him if he didn’t get into any disguise. 

Jungkook turns to you once he’s chugged the rest of the drink, leaning onto the counter, brow raised as he says, “Who said we have to get into anything right now?” 

You shoot him a mirrored look.

“We only see each other for sex. And we can’t have sex tonight. I need to spell it out for you?” 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gestures to the food on the counter and begins shrugging off his leather jacket and cap. 

“Eat. You look pale.” 

“Jungkook—”

He furrows his brows. “Is it that time of the month? Why are you so mouthy more than usual?” 

“Fuck off.” You flip him off which makes him chuckle. It takes you aback a little. 

“See. You’re irritable because you haven’t eaten yet. So what if you have to study? Eat first. I’ll help you with your flashcards later, then we’ll have sex. Easy.” 

“Who are you and why are you telling me what to do?” You bite back.

“Because you’ll probably die at 27 if I wasn’t constantly reminding you of eating your meals,” Jungkook shrugs and starts tearing off the tapes on the take-out food. “And you like having sex with me. So.” You purse your lips, making a small scoffing sound, prompting Jungkook to glance at you. “Yeah?” He quirks a brow with a hint of a smile on his lips.

You frown. “You’re cocky.” 

“You get me hard when we argue. Save it for later.” He says, as if chastising you and redirecting your attention again to the food. 

You roll your eyes again, annoyed that there’s a weird feeling in your stomach about the whole exchange and your mouth muscles are itching to curl up a little at his… stupidity. It irritates you, the way Jungkook goes through life in an easy-going way because he knows exactly who he is. 

You almost let out a moan as you start digging in the chicken he bought, feeling relieved to finally have something. Jungkook was only half-exaggerating when he said he had to tell you to eat, because most of the time you really forget all about it.

Today was one of those days… you didn’t have to clock in at the company on Fridays but your classes go from 5 to 9pm which drains the hell out of you. Waking up midday means not bothering to eat… and aside from the bagel and coffee you grabbed at the cafe earlier, you haven’t consumed real food. 

“I don’t like this.” you suddenly say. 

“What?”

You look up at him. He still looks weird. 

“That.” you point at his general direction. He raises a brow, growing confused. “You look happy. I’m not sure if I like that.”

“Ouch.” 

You can’t help yourself. You laugh at his completely blank face. Cutting yourself off completely, you clear your throat.

“It’s weird. Why?” 

“I smile and it just… what? Ruins your day?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jungkook laughs out loud. “You’re infuriating.” 

You hum, weirdly satisfied with that.

Jungkook has been over your apartment many times because as much as his place is way nicer, you don’t like going there. Too risky, too many eyes. Too… scary. You know Jungkook improves his security every three months, as sad as it sounds, but still. You don’t feel comfortable going there, probably why you refused to use the keycard he’s given you. You do fuck a lot in your studio, though, or in the empty rooms over at the company, but when you’re not, Jungkook and you drive here. It’s almost safe to assume that Jungkook knows this place already like the back of his hand.

Probably because whatever the hell this is between you has been going on for eight months now.

After Jungkook and you inhaled every last bit of the food (because he was apparently starving as well), true to his words, he actually did help you study a bit. But that didn’t really last when Jungkook suddenly had his fingers in you thirty minutes later. 

One moment you were talking about phonological change and sound laws, the next thing you know, you’re cumming on his fingers, while Jungkook sits on the edge of your bed frantically helping you straddle him. Meanwhile, half of your clothes are forming a heap on the floor as you heavily make out with each other. 

“F-fuck,”

Jungkook sighs when the tip of his cock finally enters your pussy as you slowly push down on him, thighs clenching at the way he’s stretching you out. 

You gasp when you fully sit on him, open mouths breathing against each other. 

“Oh, fuck, you’re so b-big–”

And you might never really get used to it, no matter how many times you do it.

You let out a shaky moan when you feel Jungkook’s dick twitching inside you, opening your eyes only to see him already staring right at you. 

“You okay to move?” He rasps, the veins in his arms telling you he’s trying to hold back. 

You nod eagerly, placing your palms on his shoulders and preparing yourself to go up. Your slick from the foreplay doesn’t make the stretch of his cock fully burn, making it a little easier for you to slide out and bounce back down on him until you’re repeating the movement faster, with Jungkook taking a hold of of your breasts, squeezing the flesh tightly in his huge palms. He groans, leaning down to capture your nipples, biting the pearls a little too rough you whimper a little too loud. 

“O-oh—! Not too rough, Jeon.” You whine, grabbing the back of his head. Jungkook looks at you with brows raised, rightfully confused ‘cause you usually like it when he’s rough with you. You bite your lip, continuing to ride him. “Just a little sensitive. My period’s next week.” 

Jungkook nods understandingly, squeezing your chest again, quite apologetically might you say so. He licks over a nipple, this time considerably more gentle with it. 

“How’s this for a studying session?” 

“N-not bad,” You bite your lip when you feel your thighs quivering, already starting to run out of breath, digging your nails in Jungkook’s shoulders. His hands travel down to your hips, where he grips it tight and starts guiding your ministration, literally bouncing you up and down on him. “Ahh– fuck.” you moan, shutting your eyes close at the delicious sensation of his engorged cock touching every part of your pussy. 

You’re dripping on him, both of your bated breaths filling your room as he picks up your own pace. 

“You – fuck – enjoy riding my cock like this?” He suddenly cups your jaw, making you look at him. The sides of your eyes sting with unshed tears, whimpering when his dick slips out of you when you try to go down again. Both of you look at it, with Jungkook quickly helping you put it back in, moaning in unison when it enters you again. You tighten your grip on him, soft sighs falling out of your mouth. But Jungkook suddenly lets out a quiet tsk, looking at you with furrowed brows as he says, “Answer me.” 

“Y-you know.” you say, mirroring his look. You start rocking back and forth instead, heightening the pleasure. 

With the way Jungkook’s face contorts, you know the new movement feels just as good for him. 

But he suddenly thrusts from under you, grabbing the back of your hair – the stretch on your scalp didn’t hurt, but it’s enough to make you gasp.

“Why do you gotta be such a fuckin’ brat, huh?” Jungkook groans, guiding your face closer to his. “You act like this around— who’s that guy again? Professor Kim?” 

You bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling at that. You knew he was gonna bring that up one way or another. You and Professor Kim fucked that one time — okay maybe two times when Jungkook and you had this weird cool-off thing going on four months ago, and he made sure to remind you of it every singe chance he got. 

“No,” you firmly say, leveling him with a look, still keeping your pace on his cock. “He likes it when I’m a good girl.” 

Jungkook’s expression darkens, and you moan when his grip on your hair tightens. 

“You’re far from a good girl, sweetheart. But he wouldn’t know that ‘cause he only got to fuck you twice.”

“Y-yeah? You sure it’s not more tha—” 

Jungkook cuts you off with a hot, angry kiss. Your teeth cling together, and with the aggressive way he inserts his tongue into you unprompted, you know he’s getting a little heated. 

It’s juvenile, but you take a little pride in how much it's so easy for you to piss him off. 

But one second you’re sharing a searing kiss, the next moment you feel a sting on your bottom lip. 

“Oh—! What the fuck!” You push Jungkook away so hard he unceremoniously plops down on the mattress, bringing you down with him. You manage to support yourself with his hard chest, looking at him with bewildered eyes, touching your bottom lip. The fucker just bit it. 

Jungkook lets himself rest against the mattress, gripping your thighs instead. 

“He’s fucking weird for fucking his student, by the way.” he says, apparently still not done talking about Kim Namjoon. His hands have made their way from your legs to your breasts, but you whisk them away, shooting him a glare.

“You’re a dick,” you jab at his chest, making him let out a slightly pained “Oh!”, soon exchanged with a grunt of pleasure when you reach for his cock behind you to sit on it again, grinding against it. You lean on his chest, keeping your daggers on him. “You can say whatever you want but you can’t blame Prof Kim for fucking his student.” 

Jungkook immediately scoffs. Because you refuse to have anything to do with his hands, he crosses them under his head, eyes casting a glance down where you meet, darkening when you roll your hips against him deliciously.

“He’s a person in power. That gotta be unethical.” 

You roll your eyes almost automatically. 

“So you wouldn’t fuck me if I was your student, then?” you raise your brow, taking note of the obvious surprise coloring Jungkook’s face. 

But he quickly shuts it down with a smug response.

“I would just have to look at other professors to fuck. Especially at SNU? Have you seen the women professors there?” There’s a bite to it, and the smirk on his lips heighten that. Like he’s telling you he has way more options than you – and those options can come easy for him. If he wants to. 

“See how you’re not fucking any one of them? Exactly.” you retort. 

Jungkook snorts. “I don’t have to,” He removes his hands from his head. “Besides, I fucked Hana before in a professor outfit. Does that count?” 

You grit your teeth together at the mention of Hana. She’s a friend of yours, also an idol like Jungkook. You actually do have a lot of friends in the industry, and coincidentally, Jungkook has fucked most of them. 

“What’s the matter? Don't like the reminder that much?” Jungkook grins. “I remember Jiyeon being in the same position as you now. She really loves riding my dick. Kind of like you. You two really are friends, huh?” 

Kim Jiyeon, a member of a famous group in the country. Another one of your friends and one of Jungkook’s on and off hook-ups too. You don’t know if they still do it from time to time – as far as you know, they ended just as you two began. But you don’t ask either, don’t really care at all. 

But it’s funny since you remember him saying awhile ago he hasn’t fucked anybody other than you in a long time. Was that a lie? 

“Sure. Don’t feel special though, I rode Jaehyun exactly this way. Went at it for hours because my pussy just gets so wet for him.” 

You relish the fact that Jungkook’s smile immediately falls off his face when you say that. But that victory only lasted for a brief moment when he spoke his next words. 

“You have a dirty mouth on you, I’ll give you that. Shin’s was dirtier, though. Gives crazy head too.” 

You don’t really know why he’s mentioning all your idol friends, but fine. If he wants to play that game, you’ll give it to him. 

“Don’t you just love a crazy head? Mingyu gave me one when we finally went out on a date, and I still think about it,” You made sure to grind against his cock painfully slowly, making a show of moaning out loud. “Oh god,”

Thankfully, that shuts Jungkook up. 

“So he did ask you out.” Jungkook says, and it sounds so… firm. You can’t even recognize the look on his face. 

“Yes.” 

He goes quiet after that, but his hands on your waist are tight. 

Like nothing happened, you continue riding him – and maybe because you talked too much that the momentum got killed, but suddenly, you stop your ministration.

Jungkook’s brows furrow, about to say something. Just as when he opens his mouth to speak, you get off him, leaving him astounded on your bed with his dick still stiff and hard against his abdomen.

“What the hell?” 

“I’m going to take a shower.” you say nonchalantly, already heading to your bathroom. 

“Seriously?” Jungkook says, the disbelief in his tone palpable. “I’m still hard and I haven’t even cum yet.” 

You look back at him. “You can take care of that.” 

Jungkook gestures with his hand. “Are you fucking kidding– you’re serious?”

You turn away and go straight to the bathroom, locking the door and immediately turning the shower on – aggressively so.

You’re not mad, is what you tell yourself. You know you started it when you goaded Jungkook about Namjoon. But you also shouldn’t have taken the bait, because Jungkook is competitive in all areas that affects his huge, dumb ego. 

Well, fuck him. Figuratively this time. You can’t believe you let him in your place tonight. You can’t even fucking remember what you were reading earlier, because his stupid horny brain decided it was okay to finger you when you were memorizing the mor—

“What the—!” 

You look at Jungkook in shock when he suddenly barges in the shower, all naked just like you and goes under the stream too, looking just as pissed as you left him.

“I know where you keep your keys and you can’t just walk out on me like that,” He turns off the shower and you’re about to complain when he suddenly looks at you again, brows furrowing and tone a little dark when he says, “So what? You play this little I’m-fucking-other-people-and-not-just-you games on me every fucking time and expect me to just take it? When I decide to ride along you get a little pissy and act like a child?” 

Your jaw slacks, not expecting the call-out. Jungkook steps closer to you, heavy footsteps sounding like a ticking clock above your head. You’ve always known he’s muscly, and much much taller and bigger than you, but his presence especially looms over you when he’s obviously heated like this.

Your backward steps are futile when he only takes steps forward, until you feel the glass wall on your back. 

Jungkook follows, and even though his hands are wet from the water, warmth spread through your body when he takes you roughly by the waist.

“Now you have nothing to say because you know I’m right,” he rasps. You whimper when he presses his body to you, his dick flatly rigid against your stomach, the tip aching red when you glance down to look at it. Jungkook clicks his tongue against his cheek, cupping your cheek to redirect your face to him. “Turn around.” 

He doesn’t even bother hearing you out, just manhandles you around himself. You suppress a moan when he rests his dick against the cleft of your ass, his body heat spreading within you when he leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know what’s funny? Your mouth looks adorably small when it’s stuffed with my cock, but it sure is big enough when you run it just to piss me off.” 

Your thighs clench at his words. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look back at him. “S-so what are you gonna do about it?” 

Jungkook raises a brow. “The best option is to put my dick in it but you’d be way too happy with that.” 

You roll your eyes. “You’re so full of yourself—” 

“God, can you shut up for even just a minute?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Can you just fuck me and get this whole thing over with?” 

You don’t expect the slap in your ass that comes after that. Looking back at Jungkook with a gasp, you’re about to voice out a complaint when he suddenly inserts a finger in you, cutting your train of thought. 

He slowly eases out of your pussy, but shoves his digit back in, settling with a steady pace in and out. 

“Look at you, you’re a cockslut. You like when I’m mean to you, that’s why you piss me off, right?” He says, nibbling on your ear. 

You whimper when he adds another finger, moaning at the sensation. Jungkook picks up his pace, and your lewd sounds bounce off the shower stall as you start feeling the hot coil in your stomach. 

“J-jungkook,” 

“Hm?” 

“I want– more.” You say, looking at him with your mouth agape, tears forming in the sides of your eyes. Your thighs feel like giving out, and you feel so empty even though he’s two fingers in it’s almost criminal. 

“Say it. What do you want?” 

You fight the urge to flip him off, but your tone is still snarky when you simply say, “Dick.”

He chuckles, sending shivers down your spine. “Whose dick? And what’s the magic word?” 

You shut your eyes close, grinding your teeth in quiet anger.

“Your dick and please.” You say in the most monotonous voice you could ever muster. 

You fully expectd Jungkook to prolong the moment a little longer, but fucking finally, you see him stroking his dick a few moments later, shaking his head and chuckling lowly when he adjusts your position against his crotch. 

“You whine and I give you what you want. Aren’t you too spoiled, princess?” He says, aligning the head to your oussy until you feel the tip slowly entering you. 

You inhale, relief of having his cock back inside you washing over you. 

“Y-you love giving me what I want.” You retort back, pushing yourself on him, careful to keep a tight balance on the glass before you even though Jungkook’s got a tight hold on your waist with his other hand. 

He only hums, and soon he thrusts inside with no warning – but it’s a pleasant stretch when it happens, a loud moan escaping your mouth from the sudden movement. 

“O-oh god!” you yelp when he begins sliding in out of you at a fast pace, gushing as he kept on giving it to you.

You try to keep your voice low but Jungkook’s stretching you out so well, his thrusts so precise and forceful, dick growing impossibly bigger every passing second. 

Soon, the cramped shower stall is fogged, with nothing but your heavy breaths and moans and groans filling the air, Jungkook beating your pussy with speedy trusts your breasts are starting to hurt from the jiggling – thank god that Jungkook decided to fondle them with his palms, squeezing and holding, flicking your nipples every now and then. 

“It’s–shit–it’s only me who gets to see you like this, begging for my cock because you fucking love it so much,” Jungkook says against your neck. “So fucking wet, such greedy pussy – and it’s mine, right?” You only whimper, but that obviously does not make Jungkook happy. With a forceful tug on your hair, he makes you look at him. “Answer me when I talk to you, baby, or you’re not gonna cum.” 

“Y-yes!” 

He hums, slowing down to give you a slow, purposeful trust. 

“I don’t care who else you fuck, __. Because at the end of the day, it’s me you come back to.” 

You could almost cry by the way he’s going so slow that you feel almost every ridge of his cock, but it feels so good. He’s so big and hits all the right spots, even when he talks shit.  

“Shit.” he hisses before speeding up again, and you can feel fhe tell tale sign of his orgasm when his rhythym becomes uncoordinated for a bit of a moment, groaning a little loider than usual, until one of his hands on your waist let go to squeeze his dick in your pussy.

“I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook says with heavy breaths, staggering a little. “Where can I cum?”

“Inside.” you say, “Please cum inside. I need it, Kook. Cum inside me.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Please. Need it. Need it so bad.” you bite your lip, feeling a little delirious. 

When Jungkook moans a little louder, that’s when you feel the hot liquid running down your legs. It makes your pussy flutter, whimpering when Jungkook inserts his cock in you to push his cum back again, stuffing you with his cum. 

“So damn pretty… fuck,” Jungkook whispers, rubbig the base of his cock against your lips. 

“Kook–”

He doesn’t let you say any more, just creeps his finger in your pussy, thumb rubbing your clit in eights. And because you’ve been basically edged as well, it doesn’t take too long for you to follow him, cumming down hard. 

Jungkook helps you get up, lets you rest your back against him as you try to regain your mobility, chest heaving up and down.

It’s weirdly calming when he runs his hands over your body, caressing your stomach and squeezing your tits as you both come down from your high. 

“You okay?” Jungkook whispers against your head. You nod. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it.” 

You’re about to ask if he plans on showering as well, but you stop yourself before you can even say it out loud, looking at his disappearing figure when he walks out of the shower box and the bathroom altogether. 

It takes you a moment to start the shower again. 

But it was only a quick one, and you didn’t exactly think about where Jungkook would’ve gone by the time you're finished, but once you’ve emerged in your bedroom again, you see him pulling up his pants, buckling his belt. 

“You’re leaving?” You say, pausing. Then you realize it came out kind of weird, so you try to scratch that. Glancing at your alarm clock by the bedside table, you clear your throat. “I mean, it’s 3 am.” 

Jungkook looks up at you. “Yeah. I have practice at 6.” 

“Ah.” you nod, blinking at him. You head to your closet, picking out your clothes for the night. “You have three hours left. Tough.” 

Jungkook snorts. You can hear him shuffling behind you while you wore another clean camisole and shorts. When you turn around, Jungkook’s dressed now in his black shirt and jeans. His cap and jacket are in the living room, so he'll probably just grab them when he heads out. 

When you plop down on the bed, you watch as Jungkook picks up his wallet and his phone, stuffing them in his pockets. You thought he’d leave by then, but he suddenly speaks. 

“Hey.” He calls. You raise your brow at him to continue. Jungkook pauses for a moment, looking a bit unsure. Before you can ask, he finally says something. “You can fuck Kim Namjoon or whoever you like,” he starts, staring intently at you. “Just tell me beforehand so we can sort it out.” 

A few beats. 

Jungkook doesn’t follow it up with anything, and nor do you say anything quickly to that. 

The silence sounds way too loud. 

“Okay.” Is what you settle with. Jungkook stares at you a little longer than necessary, so you arch your brow. “What? Anything else before you leave?” 

It takes Jungkook awhile to say, “Nothing.” 

“Okay… and uh, thanks for bringing food.” 

He arches a brow, lips curling up a little. You squint your eyes, rolling it when he gives you a knowing smile. 

“Good night, I guess?” Jungkook lamely offers. 

You nod. “It’s 3 am but okay.”

“You can’t tell me good night, too?” Jungkook says. 

“Uh, have a good sleep and sweet dreams?” you say with the flattest tone and face. 

He scoffs, but he looks amused. “You can be a little more sincere than that.” 

You wave him off. Jungkook shakes his head, turning on his heels to head out the door. 

“Jungkook.” 

His hands around the door handle pauses mid-air to look at you. 

You look away. 

“Mingyu did ask me out,” you start. 

Jungkook’s face is unreadable when he says, “I didn’t ask.”

You shake your head. “No, I know you didn't, I just–” you sigh. “That was a week ago. I just want to say that… nothing happened.” 

It takes awhile for Jungkook to understand. 

“So…”

You lied. About the head or whatever the hell you said about Mingyu and you together. Mingyu was a nice guy, and the date was also really nice. But it just… didn’t work out. 

“Yeah.” is what you settled with. 

You don’t really know what you expected from him, but he just nods. 

“Alright.” 

That was the last thing he said when he walked out of your door. 

You look away, grabbing your phone to check some notification. There’s something on instagram, and there’s a message from Yoongi. Some mp3 file. Music stuff, you guess. And there’s one from Yena too, a member of a rookie female group over at the company who’s getting into songwriting. 

When you lie down to sleep, you feel empty.

[kxsagi]

Rin, with a nice and cute girlfriend would be so funny tho

Rin usually wears monotonous clothes right? Like he never wears anything colorful, and they're mostly black, grey, white or a little bit of turquoise but tHAT'S BESIDES THE POINT

Then all of a sudden he comes to practice with cute keychains on his bag, a matching one with his girlfriend or even finds him with bow hair clips on his hair that pushes his bangs off his face since she said “it covers his handsome face."

And they meet her and they're so surprised that she's the total opposite of Rin, she's nice and cheerful, always smiling unlike her boyfriend who looks at everyone like they had committed a crime against him (that being them breathing in the same air as him)

Asking her why she's dating Rin then she just simply answered, "Oh, he's nice and sweet to me. He's such a good boyfriend honestly!" then they'd be like nICE, WHICH PART? WHEN AND HOW?

i should be reviewing for my upcoming exam this week and here i am thinking about blue lock boys, i have problems.

— 🪻

“𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐲 𝐱 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞”

a/n: you're so real for thinking about blue lock boys instead of your studies bc that's also me i fear

but good luck on your exam! for working so hard in school, i hope i can make your day better and life a little less stressful! ❣️

rin was never one for color.

if his clothes had a soul, they'd be a monochrome masterpiece: black shirts, grey pants, white sneakers, maybe a touch of turquoise if he was feeling wild. but that was beside the point. everyone knew him for his quiet demeanor, his "resting bitch face," as his teammates liked to call it, and his constant air of "everyone is suspicious until proven otherwise." 

then one fateful day, rin showed up to practice different. his usual bag was still there, of course, but now it had little keychains hanging from it – three, to be exact. one was a tiny panda, another a glittery star, and the third was a matching keychain, his rocket keychain, paired with one you, his girlfriend, gave him. and wait, was that a hair clip in his hair? a bow clip? what the heck was going on? 

his teammates blinked at him, and some even choked on their water. "rin?" chigiri asked, eyes squinting. "what's... what's happening with your bag? and your hair?" 

rin tugged at the clip awkwardly, looking a bit out of his depth. "uh, it's nothing." but you had told him he needed to wear it. "it covers your handsome face," you'd said. so of course he did. for you. 

a couple of minutes later, everyone was gathered around in the locker room, and there you were – his girlfriend. if rin was the human embodiment of a cloud on a bad day, you were a sunshine explosion. bright, cheerful, always smiling, like you'd just woken up and realized it was your birthday every day. they stared at you, completely stunned. 

“wait, this is your girlfriend?” reo asked, unable to hide the shock. 

rin rolled his eyes. “yeah, yeah, stop staring.” 

you just giggled. “he's always so serious, huh? but i love him! he's the best, nicest boyfriend ever!" 

they all exchanged confused looks. "nice? nice?" bachira gasped. "which part? when? how??" 

"oh, you know," you waved them off like it was no big deal. "he’s sweet, he buys me flowers. and he listens when i talk about my day. he’s a total softie." 

his teammates froze, trying to process this. rin? a softie? the same rin who scowled at the vending machine for taking his last dollar? 

“he’s nice when he wants to be,” you added, smiling at him. 

rin was already blushing, awkwardly fiddling with his shirt as if it could swallow him whole. "okay, enough," he muttered, crossing his arms. 

“come on, rin! you can’t fool them,” you teased, giving him a light nudge. “you always pick the perfect movie for our movie nights. remember the time you watched that cheesy rom-com just to make me laugh?" 

rin groaned. "it was for you." 

they all stared at him like he’d just announced he was secretly a superhero. a superhero. 

“okay, okay,” isagi said slowly, “we get it. you’re, like, a secret softie. the world is full of surprises.” 

rin sighed and adjusted his bow clip, silently questioning all his life choices. he swore if anyone took a picture, he was going to have a meltdown. but deep down, he couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips. 

you had a way of making the world seem a little less grey. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[peachylynnie]

when you have a crush on a fictional character

word count: 200-300 per lead contains: lads men x reader, established relationship, headcanons on crack, jealousy (they have beef with a fictional character), some plushies were harmed in the making of this post, lots of manga spoilers, cursing, violence, and links to images/videos (so you know what the characters look like) a/n: i had so much fun making this. it's ironic too since THEY'RE fictional. listen, it was either this or ur kpop bias (im missing taehyung like a mf). again, bc these are headcanons, i'm not saying i'm right. reblogs and comments are always appreciated! tagged: @vvintqz (another xavier headcanon) lads masterlist

xavier

gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen (manga spoilers below)

thought you would enjoy the series since the two of you watch a lot of anime together

but now he regrets suggesting it.

he regrets mentioning the manga too

since the damned character wears a fucking compression shirt in the manga

he swears if he hears the words "my glorious blue eyed king" leave your mouth one more time

he's going to slice your gojo plushie into a million pieces with his sword (he thinks shoving it under the bed is already too much of a mercy)

why are there so many "no lube, no protection" comments under every gojo instagram post?

why are you liking every single one of them?! (you like them bc it's funny, but he is NOT amused)

will glare at you so hard if you ask him to cosplay

would honestly rather cosplay lumiere

this man is scowling whenever gojo appears on the screen

arms crossed, lips pouted, hand reaching for the sword type shit

turned off the TV when that one breathing scene came on (i had to link it)

jumped for joy when he died though lmao

never has he ever been so happy to see a literal body cut in half

you're just sitting there mortified while he's all sunshine and rainbows

he wants to find the author and give him a big hug

xavier 🤝 gege #1 gojo haters

zayne

sakusa kiyoomi from haikyuu (manga spoilers below)

he honestly doesn't know how to react at first

a volleyball player who acts like a jerk, has less than TWO minutes of screentime, and wears NEON attire? (he respects his obsession with hygiene though)

actually questions you at one point

"is that your type?" "do you want me to be like that?" "are you into volleyball players?"

you have to explain it's not like that at all, you just think he's cool

that assures him a bit

but when you start reading the manga

his worries return ten-fold

not only because the character appears more

but because the character doesn't wear neon anymore and has compression sleeves (that's HIS thing)

frowns when he looms over your shoulder

and sees you screenshot EVERY PANEL he appears in (is this a thing or am i the only one)

gets so confused as to why you're referring to the character as omi whenever you call your friend who's an atsumu girlie (i'm an osamu girlie)

he's half grateful the msby black jackals (he begrudgingly learned the team name from you) haven't been animated yet

his face is priceless when he walks into the shared bedroom

and sees a sakusa plushie there

wants to freeze it with his evol

instead he just awkwardly picks it up and makes it face the wall (he doesn't want to see you upset)

rafayel

brant from wuthering waves

"YOU LIKE A PIRATE WHEN THERE'S A WHOLE MERMAN RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?!"

he's so sulky and petty about it

bashes the character whenever he has the chance

"he's a pirate, i bet he smells bad."

"ew, why does he talk like that?"

"he can summon a giant anchor? big deal. i can summon an entire ocean."

you find this situation really funny

since the whole reason you like brant in the first place is BECAUSE he reminds you of rafayel

it's the theatrical mannerisms and flashy outfits (the sea too)

but you don't tell him that (he'll probably act more offended anyway)

whenever he catches you playing the game

he sighs dramatically and falls on the couch

head on your lap and trying to distract you from the game

"replaced by a stinky pirate, how could this be?"

"can't believe you're playing a game when there's a hot, rideable fishie right in front of you"

he's flabbergasted when you reach for your wallet

"wait, IT'S A GACHA GAME?!"

cue him running around with your wallet and you chasing after him

"no way, cutie. last time you spent like fifty dollars on identity v for some skin."

when you try to correct him that it was for a danganronpa collab (and that it was less than fifty dollars)

he snatches your phone

now he's running with both your wallet and your phone in hand

sylus

yomi from gokurakugai (manga spoilers below)

listen

you started the manga because the character LOOKS LIKE him (just hair down)

he has silver hair, red eyes, and composed mannerisms

literally when you see the panel of him appearing with a jacket hanging from his shoulders along with some slacks shoes

you have to sigh because

you are NOT beating the allegations

the "i have a type" allegations

sylus is honestly amused

see he would actually READ the manga

not even online

he would buy physical copies of it

and have it in your bookshelf

since he knows how much you HATE the pop-up ads on the website you use to read

also because he wants to see what you're so excited about

so imagine your face when you walk into your shared bedroom

and see your boyfriend in all of his gorgeous glory

wearing his signature bathrobe

a wine glass in one hand and...

THE MANGA IN ANOTHER?!

THE ONE WHERE YOMI IS ON THE COVER TOO?!

he chuckles at your dumbfounded expression before standing up and walking towards you (the manga's still in his hand btw)

"what's wrong, sweetie? i thought you liked this series, given how much you've searched for this character on pinterest."

you gulp when he pins his hand on the wall

"would you like me to wear my hair down?"

caleb

chrollo lucilfer from hunter x hunter (manga spoilers below)

see the other guys are...relatively grateful these characters are fictional

this guy actually WISHES this bastard of a character was real

why?

so he can plummet him into the ground

because why are you squealing every time this pale, grown ass man with a tattoo on his forehead and an open fur coat appears on the screen???

here's the thing

caleb was excited to start this show with you since he heard it's good

and it is!

he loves the nen system, has a soft spot for killua, and would honestly kill for gon

but now, whenever you suggest watching the show, he's grumbling and insisting you guys watch something else

he would rather die than tell you this

but one time

he slicked his hair back in front of the mirror to see if he looks like him (oh the aura loss)

he also read the manga

but only to see how often chrollo appears so he can be prepared

was excited for the hisoka vs. chrollo fight (since he's hoping the latter dies)

actually enjoyed it too since both characters used their abilities so creatively

threw his phone when hisoka lost

and punched your chrollo plushie with his metal arm

you made him buy you another one

a/n: not me exposing all of my fictional crushes. here are some other characters i considered: seba natsuki, kei uzuki (sakamoto days), levi ackerman (aot), phainon (hsr), yoru (gokurakugai), beom tae ha (tears on a withered flower), theo lapileon (my in laws are obsessed with me), shinso hitoshi, dabi (bnha), choso kamo (jjk) (my beloved), and reigen arataka (mp 100) (solely for shits and giggles).

[atlabeth]

(please) spare me indignity

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you and spencer spend more time together. it's bad, then it's good, then it's something else altogether.

a/n: continuing the gideon!reader series! a whole lot of this is arguing because they love each other fr. sorry this took so long, for some reason i had a really hard time finding my footing here but i hope you enjoy!! reader is a victim of the sassy man apocalypse bc this may be s1/2 spencer but he is not going to not be standing up for himself!! have this new banner that i made to try and help with my inspiration. title is from nothing new by rio romero

wc: 5k

warning(s): r and spence argue some more. angst, hurt w/o comfort, then hurt with comfort! idk theyre kinda sweet

You and Spencer spend the next six and a half hours watching movies. 

You make it through Goodfellas and you only tell him to be quiet twelve times. You take a break to get water and make popcorn, which was so generously provided in your grocery supply, and while you’re doing it, Spencer insists on picking the next one. You end up watching Psycho, and you don’t think he lets a single scene go by without explaining the meaning behind it. 

You choose Notting Hill after, and he knows just as much. He picks Halloween—it doesn’t really help your stalker anxieties, and Spencer apologizes profusely when you bring it up, but you still end up finishing it. Next you go for Pointe Grosse Blank, then Spencer picks Kolya, a Russian film that he specifically put into the box. 

There are subtitles, but he spends half the time translating for you anyway—apparently there are nuances to the script that an English translation doesn’t get compared to the original Russian, and that would be a tragedy. 

He’s in the middle of his third rant going on seven minutes when you finally break. 

“Okay,” you say as you reach for the remote, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You do a double take when your hand meets another instead of hard plastic, and you see Spencer beat you to it. You pull your hand away as soon as possible, feeling your face heat from annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” he echoes. “The movie’s not over yet.”

“I can’t take any more of your rambling,” you say. “I’m cutting you off.”

He frowns. “We have to finish the movie first.” 

“What are you, a broken record?”

“I couldn’t be a broken record because I said two different things,” he protests. “Besides, what else are you going to do?” 

“Unpack my things? Read a book? Sit in silence staring at the wall in my room?” You shrug as you stand up and walk over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot of options.” 

“Gideon told me not to let you out of my sight,” Spencer says, standing up as well. 

“You can see me pretty well from there,” you say. “You don’t have to invade every bit of my privacy.” 

“I— I kind of do,” he says. “The whole point of a safe house is to keep you safe. If you’re off doing your own thing, it’s not really safe.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving!” You throw up your hands in exasperation. “What, are you going to sleep with me too? Make sure I don’t go anywhere in the middle of the night?” 

It’s almost funny how fast his face flushes bright red. You’ve got a feeling he doesn’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. 

“That’s what I thought,” you say. “Keep watching your movie if you want. Just leave me alone.” 

You feel his eyes on your back as you storm off to your room. The childish part of you wants to slam the door, but you decide to throw Spencer the smallest bone and leave it open. 

It’s not his fault that you hate him, and that just makes you hate him even more. He gets to come out of this the bigger person, a saint for putting up with your various deficiencies while keeping you safe from a stalker. You’re just the difficult, ungrateful, estranged bastard daughter of the most deified man in the Behavioral Analysis Unit who can’t set her personal grudges aside for her own good. 

You shove your duffel bag into the bed with a little too much force. You unzip it, deciding to try and occupy yourself with unpacking. You’re here for the indefinite future, so you might as well make yourself at home. 

You can’t help the dry laugh that comes at the thought. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt at home anywhere. 

This might be the worst thing about this whole situation. You’ve got a stalker out there, and it’s making you do all this bullshit introspection against your will. It’s got you thinking about your dad and your relationship with him, and thinking about Spencer Reid and how he’s replaced you in your father’s life without even really knowing about it because he didn’t know about you until he walked into your dad’s office a month ago.

Ten minutes pass in a blur before you’re knocked out of it by a rapping on your door. You turn to see Spencer standing in the doorway, expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says. “I’m just checking in.”

“I’m still alive,” you say. “Nothing exciting happened in the five seconds I was gone.”

“It was ten minutes and thirty two seconds, actually,” he says. “But— but good.”

Again, more silence passes between you. You look up at him from your pile of clothes after thirty seconds. 

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“I— I don’t know what else to do,” he stammers.

“Didn’t you say you did something like this before?” you ask. “Guarded some girl from her stalker?”

Spencer nods. “She was a lot easier to get along with.”

You roll your eyes. “Somebody out there wants to kill me to get back at my dad. Sorry that I’m not the pinnacle of happiness.” You make a point to avoid his gaze. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done this all before. You should have some kind of idea of what to do besides bothering me.”

“How am I bothering you?” Spencer asks in exasperation. “I’ve said three sentences to you!”

“Everything you do bothers me, boy genius,” you say. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.” 

“I—” He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he just clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head before he walks away. 

You stare down at your pile of clothes, largely unfolded and scattered around the bed. The silence doesn’t give you the satisfaction you thought it would. 

It only lasts for all of thirty seconds though, and you don’t have time to linger in the discomfort—you hear footsteps, heavier ones this time, and you look up to see Spencer round the corner once again. 

“What is your problem with me?” he blurts out. 

You frown. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” Spencer nods. “You hate your dad, fine— but he’s not here for you to fight with, so you’re taking it out on me. It’s classic displacement, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“Because it— it’s not fair!” he sputters. “I didn’t do anything to you— I didn’t even know you existed until a month ago!” 

“Well, gosh, boy genius,” you say, “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out yourself.”

“Stop calling me boy genius!” he exclaims. “We’re the same age!”

“Then stop acting like one,” you retort. “I know you’ve got a psychology degree, but you don’t need to use them on me whenever you can.” 

He frowns, his mouth opening for a second before he closes it. 

“Were you going to ask how I knew that before you realized the obvious answer?” you ask. 

“No,” he says. 

“Yes, you were.” You continue folding your clothes. “You went to Caltech, MIT, and Yale, even though it was your safety school. You’ve got three PhDs, two BAs, and you’re working on a philosophy degree, but you’re not done with it yet.” You shrug. “A little difficult to make it to classes with all the FBI stuff.” 

“…Does he really talk about me that much?” Spencer’s voice is quieter than it was before. 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. You set a finished pair of jeans to the side then look at him. “I graduated from college too. Granted, it was a couple years ago, not when I was 17, but I think it still warrants a little support.”

“You went to George Mason,” Spencer says. 

Your movements stutter. You weren’t expecting him to actually know.

“Yeah,” you say. Your heart skips a beat. “How do you know?”

Has he talked about you to the team before? Sure, they didn’t know you existed before you showed up out of the blue, but maybe he showed them a picture after it happened. Your mom carries one of you in your cap and gown in her wallet—maybe he got a hold of one and Spencer caught a glimpse of that. Maybe you just missed it and he does have a picture of you on his desk. Maybe—

“You have a sweatshirt for it,” he says with a gesture. You look where his finger is pointing, and sure enough, your GMU sweatshirt is tangled up with a couple of other crewnecks.

“…Of course,” you say. You don’t know why you even dared to hope. “Because it’s more likely that you’d notice something like that than it is for my dad to talk about me.”

Spencer says your name, and you hate the sympathy in it. 

“No.” You cut him off before he can get any further. “Don’t try to defend him. You know,” you huff a cold, humorless laugh, “he missed my graduation, too. Two separate dates for commencement and my actual school’s ceremony, one 45 minute car ride, and he couldn’t make it to either one.”

“You don’t know how busy we are,” Spencer tries again. “We work weekends and holidays and around the clock— sometimes we get called in at 3am to stay in some random town for weeks at a time, and there’s nothing we can do about it! I— I mean, we’ve had three days off in the past 47 days and—”

“That’s why I have a problem with you!” you cry out, throwing the shirt in your hand onto your bed as you turn to face him. “Because I’m twenty-four years old, and I’ve lived an hour away from my dad for the past six years, but his team that he spends all his time with didn’t even know I existed until I showed up at your office.” You take a step forward, anger resurging inside of you. “Because I threw away a chance at an Ivy to get to see him more, just to deal with the same bullshit as usual. Because I worry about him dying every single day he’s in the field, and he can’t even give me a phone call at the end of it all—” another step forward— “and even in the middle of this shitshow, you think you have a right to defend him— to- to tell me how to feel about him!”

You move even closer, close enough to see his wrinkled button-up is partially untucked, his lips are slightly parted, and his stupid doe eyes—that haven’t left yours—with his stupid dilated pupils, and you jab your finger in his chest. 

“Because all I ever wanted is my father’s affection,” your voice breaks, and you hate the way it makes you feel, “and he’d rather build an entirely new life with an entirely new kid than give it to me.” 

You push your way past him, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way out. You don’t look back as you forge your way to the bathroom (that you unfortunately have to share), even though his gaze burns into your back. 

You close and lock the door. It’s childish, you know, but you need to be alone right now. You can’t stand to be around him.

Spencer just— he irritates you in a way that no one else ever has. He’s your age and more accomplished than you could ever dream to be, with almost six times the degrees and a much better job, and probably a family that loves him. Who wouldn’t love him with everything he’s done?

You, apparently.  

You plant your hands on the countertop as you stare into the mirror. Your usual dark circles have become more pronounced over the past month, and you can’t help a wry laugh at the thought. All that trouble sleeping and it was for the wrong damn reason. 

If you knew someone was watching you, you would have moved out of Virginia months ago. But maybe this bastard would have found you anyway. If Spencer’s profiling is right and he’s going after you because of your dad, you don’t think much could really dissuade him. 

Tears pool at your waterline, and you wipe them away with a rough hand before they can manifest into something more. You slump back against the opposing wall as you continue to stare at yourself. 

You’re pathetic and you can’t even find it in yourself to care. 

You hear the sound of footsteps once more and you wrap your arms around your midsection. This chill won’t go away. 

“…Are you still alive?” a hesitant voice calls. 

You bite back a remark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” 

“No.” You don’t know what makes you answer honestly. 

A beat of silence passes. You really do feel like a kid. You’re talking to him through the door because you just yelled at him and Spencer is still being the bigger person. 

“Can I help at all?”

This answer comes a little quicker. “No.”

Again, more silence.

“Okay.” Spencer pauses, and the footsteps start again. His voice is a little closer the next time he speaks. “Just… let me know when you’re turning in. So I know you’re still alive.”

You huff. He can’t even stick to his guns and hate you like you hate him for ten minutes. “I don’t think I’ll be dying anytime soon.”

“You never know,” he says. “Spontaneous human combustion might not be proven beyond pseudoscientific concepts, but there’s a first time for everything.”

The laugh that comes out of you is unexpected, both in its lightness and occurrence at all. “Keep an ear out for the smoke alarm, then.”

“If you smell anything burning, stop, drop and roll,” he says. “Make sure you don’t run. All it’ll do is add to the oxygen and feed the fire.”

“Okay,” you say. “…I still don’t like you.”

You swear you can hear the smile in his words. “I know.” 

-

You wake up when the smoke alarm goes off. 

It’s a very rude awakening. It jolts you out of your very uneasy sleep to unfamiliar surroundings—in your disoriented state, you almost forget where you are. 

Right. You’re in a safe house in the middle of nowhere because someone is stalking you. How could you possibly forget?

You stumble out of bed, rubbing your eyes to try and assuage some of your exhaustion as you leave your room. 

“Is the place on fire?” you ask through a yawn. 

“No!” Spencer exclaims, sounding more panicked than usual. That straightens your back and speeds your pace. “No, everything’s fine—” 

You smell smoke, and as you come around the corner, you see him waving his hands overtop the toaster trying to dispel said smoke. You can’t help but laugh, and you actually smile when he gives you the most helpless look. 

“I’m so good at so many other things.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask wryly. “Burn this house down to try and get a better one?” 

“This wouldn’t have started a fire,” Spencer says. “Toaster fires usually spread because they’re below wooden cupboards, which catch easily and spread everywhere else.” He gestures at the toaster, which he has plugged in to an outlet on the side of the island. “No cupboards, no house fire.”

“You started this because you were making toast?” you ask. 

He flushes. “I’m used to the toaster I have at home. I have the settings worked out perfectly there. This one is all wrong.” 

You sigh and shake your head. “Just… hit the reset button, and open the door. It’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t open the door,” he says. “It goes against the safety thing.”

“Then open a window.”

“Making it easier to get in here in any way goes against the safety thing,” he says. 

“So we have to just deal with the smoke?” you ask in exasperation. 

Spencer hits the vent button on the microwave, and the fan whirs into action. “No?”

You shake your head in disbelief as he then reaches up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. His t-shirt lifts with the movement—your eyes drift to the bare strip of skin, and you immediately look away when you realize. 

“Where’s the coffee in here?” you ask, clearing your throat as you start sifting through drawers. “I’ll be even worse to deal with if I don’t have caffeine.” 

“I already brewed a fresh pot,” Spencer says, gesturing with his head. “Half and half is in the fridge, and sugar is in the cabinet.” 

“Oh,” you say. You stop what you’re doing, your hands lingering above the drawer handle. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

You see him shrug out of your peripherals. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I was a total asshole to you last night, you want to say. Because I’ve been awful to you since I met you and you refuse to fight back and give me a better reason to hate you. 

“Because you didn’t need to,” you finally say. Good one. 

“I did. So you’re going to have to deal with it.” Spencer takes the burnt toast out and throws them in the trash can, talking while he does it. “You know, it’s actually a rumor that burnt toast contains carcinogens and can increase the chance of cancer. Acrylamide forms when you burn food, but researchers haven’t found a link between starchy foods with high amounts of acrylamide and cancer.” 

You hum in some form of acknowledgement as you take a mug out of the cabinet and fill it from the pot. You take a sip and grimace—it’s not the best, but it’s caffeinated. After three years of shitty gas station coffee throughout college, you can deal with it. 

“How did you sleep?” Spencer asks. 

“Fine,” you say. 

He frowns. “Really?” 

“Yes,” you say, a little rougher. “The dark circles come with the model.” 

“There are a lot of causes other than sleep deprivation,” Spencer says. “Contact dermatitis, hyperpigmentation, dehydration, alcoholism, stress—” 

“Got plenty of that,” you interrupt. 

“Even genetics can play a part in it,” he says. 

You huff. “I think this is one thing I can’t blame my dad for. I haven’t slept since the nineties.”

“Well, you should try,” Spencer says. “The blood vessels around your eyes don’t constrict like they should when you’re sleep deprived, which means your blood vessels dilate, which increases blood in the area, and that gives you dark circles.”

“Wow,” you say wryly. “I really look that bad with them?” 

“I— that—” Spencer’s face flushes red as he stutters, and you hide the slightest smile with your mug— “that’s not what I mean! I’m just trying to give advice to help—” 

“I know.” You set your mug back down, not able to fully bite back your amusement. “I was joking, Spencer.” 

“Oh,” he says. “That’s… new.” 

“Am I not allowed to joke?” 

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Spencer says. “Especially after last night.” 

“I’m too tired to fight with you right now,” you sigh. “Enjoy your break.” 

He clears his throat as he takes two fresh pieces of bread out, then looks at your mug. “You drink it black?” 

“It’s not coffee if you don’t,” you say. “It— it’s a sugary mess.” 

“It is not!” he exclaims. “It still has the same amount of caffeine, and it’s still coffee—” 

“No it isn’t!” you laugh, and you nod at his mug. “How much sugar did you put in there?” 

“A couple spoonfuls but—” 

“Spoonfuls?”

“But it’s how I like it!” Spencer defends. 

“Don’t you have some facts about how harmful excessive sugar consumption is?” you ask. 

“Of course I do,” he says. “I also have some about the benefits of black coffee, but I’m not going to tell you now.”

“Wow,” you say. “I’m so hurt.” 

He shakes his head as he slots two more pieces of bread into the toaster. “And to think, I was trying to make breakfast for you.” 

Again, that gives you pause. Why does he keep trying to do nice things for you?” 

“Don’t bother.” You pick up your mug and go into the living room. “I don’t really eat breakfast anyways.” 

“That’s not healthy,” he calls after you. 

“Most things I do aren’t,” you respond. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Skipping breakfast puts you at a higher chance of heart disease,” he says. 

“Then I guess we won’t have to worry about the spontaneous combustion, will we?” You look back at him. “What’s on the agenda?” 

Spencer sighs. He’s given up momentarily, it seems. “Gideon’s going to call me in thirty-two minutes for an update. The whole team has been focusing solely on your case.” 

You perk up. The coffee warms your hands through the mug but it doesn’t fully assuage the chill down your spine. 

“Do they have any leads?” 

“I don’t know,” Spencer says. “Gideon hasn’t called me yet.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you think they have any leads?” 

“Maybe.” The toaster pops and he pulls the bread out, then starts buttering it—or trying to. His brow knots in annoyance at the stick of butter, still hard, and he pushes his glasses up with his free hand. You have to look away. “Like I said, Gideon helped start the BAU. He’s solved more cases than anyone else, and,” you feel his eyes on you, “it’s personal this time. He’s probably working around the clock.” 

“Just have to hope they get somewhere,” you murmur. Your coffee tastes even more bitter than  usual, but you drink it anyway. 

“They will,” Spencer says. “I promise.” 

“Y’know, people keep making promises they can’t keep,” you say. “I’m getting real tired of it.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving your side until they do,” he says. “And I’m going to keep you safe. So consider that promise kept.” 

“Great,” you say. “I’m stuck with you until I die or this is solved.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“You don’t have to take everything I say so seriously.” 

“Then don’t say everything so seriously.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. Spencer comes over with his plate of messily buttered toast—not very easy with fully solid sticks of butter—and sits down across from you. He holds the plate out. 

“Want one?” 

“I told you, I don’t eat breakfast.” 

“You should.” 

“Because one piece of toast will make so much of a difference,” you mock. 

“It will,” he says. “Maybe it’ll even make you happier.” 

You roll your eyes and drink more of your coffee. “Are you going to bother me all day like this?” 

Spencer took a bite of toast then shrugged. “If you’re this blase about everything relating to your health, then yes.” 

You groan as you stand up. “It’s too early to deal with you. See you in a few hours.” 

“And good morning to you too,” Spencer says wryly. You make a parting gesture with your hand in response. 

It’s been a day and a half, and not only have you argued with him twice, but he still refuses to give you anything to work with, still insists on trying to be there for you. It’s as infuriating as it is gratingly admirable. Anyone else probably would have tried to kill you by now. 

Well, you’ve already got a stalker trying to do that. 

You sigh and down half your coffee. You’ve got a long day ahead of you. 

-

Spencer doesn’t know why you not liking him bothers him so much. 

It’s illogical, but it makes sense for you. Your dad spends more time with him than he does with you, and you’re projecting your hatred for Gideon onto Spencer. Whatever. 

But it’s not just whatever, and that irks him. 

This is an assignment, simple as that. Gideon trusted him enough to put you under his protection, even if it’s for your mental health more so than your physical. It should be a point of pride, being chosen for something like this by someone like Gideon.

Spencer presses his fingers against his temple. You’re a lot, there’s no way around it. But you also claim to hate him, and he knows that’s not true. 

Yes, you argue with him. Yes, you’re short with him. Yes, he lost his temper momentarily because not even Spencer is capable of endless grace. 

But he also sees your moments of lightness throughout it all. Your brief smiles, the quips that lean towards jokes more than insults—and he notices your eyes, and the brightness that breaks through on occasion. 

He always notices your eyes.

Spencer’s phone rings in his pocket, jolting him out of whatever reverie he found himself in. He pulls it out and flips it open, then presses it to his ear. “Gideon?” 

“Reid,” he greets. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he says. “You’re calling twenty-four minutes early.”

“We just finished a briefing,” Gideon says. “I wanted to get word to you as soon as possible.” 

Spencer sits up. “What is it?” 

“Morgan, Hotch, and Garcia have been working together to comb through my past cases and see what they’re up to now. They finally found a potential unsub,” he says. “Someone I put away a decade ago was released last year, and recent records indicate he’s back in the area.” 

“Who is it?” he asks. 

“Adam Hernandez. Also known as—” 

“The Stafford Strangler,” Spencer finishes. “He killed three people in two weeks in the 90s—classic spree killer. You caught him with David Rossi’s help.” 

“Released on good behavior, despite the victims’ families campaigning against it,” Gideon says. “You know it?” 

“Obviously,” he says. “I’ve read all of your old case files.”

Gideon chuckles, and he can almost imagine him shaking his head. “Of course you have.”

“Do you think Hernandez is your guy?” Spencer asks. 

“I’m not sure yet,” Gideon says. “We applied for a warrant—as soon as we get it, Morgan and Elle are heading his way to ask a few questions.�� 

“You think he’d do something like this?” Spencer shifts his position as he frowns. “Hernandez got fired, lost his house, then went off the deep end. He killed because he didn’t see any other solution. The guy going after your daughter is a lot more emotional about all this, and—” his throat feels dry all of a sudden— “and it’s like he’s got some kind of attraction to her.” 

“You don’t need to remind me,” Gideon says roughly. “We’re going for leads where we can, and we’re still working every other angle. It doesn’t end with Hernandez.”

“...Good,” Spencer says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help from here.” 

“You’re already doing everything I need you to do.” Gideon pauses, and he hears the creak of the chair in his office as he adjusts how he’s sitting. “How is my daughter doing?” 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Her mood changes with the wind. One second she’s trying to start a fight with me, the next she’s trying to joke around with me. It— it’s a lot, I won’t lie.” 

“But how is she handling all of this?” he asks. “Staying in the safe house, dealing with a stalker, feeling like a sitting duck.”

“Very cynically,” Spencer says. “She keeps talking about dying or getting killed.”

Gideon sighs. “That sounds like her.” 

“She’s… she’s mad at you, mostly.” Spencer picks at a hangnail, ignoring the sharp, temporary pain. “Every time I bring you up, it lights a fuse. You’re the one thing she hates to talk about.” 

There’s nothing but silence on the other end. 

“Gideon?” he asks. “Did I lose—” 

“I’m here,” he interrupts. “Just… thinking.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Spencer says. “She’s—” 

“It is my fault,” Gideon interrupts again. “Has she told you much about her younger life?” 

“...Some,” Spencer says. 

“Like?” 

Spencer doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t want to just tell Gideon that you’ve told him he’s been an awful dad. That it’s really all you’ve told him. 

“You can say it, Reid,” Gideon says. “I won’t get mad.” 

“...She says you’ve missed out on her whole life,” Spencer finally says, notably quieter. “Her high school graduation, her college graduation— most of the stuff that happened in college, actually.” 

Gideon lets out a rough sigh. “I’ll always regret it.” 

“So it’s true?” Spencer asks. He’s surprised at the sharpness of his voice.  

“I don’t get to control when cases come in,” he says. 

“We’re a whole team of qualified agents,” Spencer says. “We— we always have been. Especially when you and Rossi were together. It was like the golden age of profilers.” 

“Spencer—” 

“You made it to my graduation!” he interrupts. “You were there for my chemistry PhD, and you said you would be there when I get my philosophy degree, but you couldn’t make it for your only child’s high school and college graduations?” 

“I already told you I regret it,” Gideon says. His voice is as calm as ever, and for some reason, that irks Spencer even more. “What more can I say? It’s in the past now. I can’t change what I did.”

Spencer stares at the wall. He doesn’t know why this is such a damning thing to him. 

His own dad has missed all of his graduations. He’s missed almost every part of his life. But his dad walked out—he wanted nothing to do with Spencer or his mom. 

Your dad is right here. Gideon is still around, working every day to save lives and change the world and take down monsters—but he’s still not there for you. 

He’s so close and yet he always steps out of your reach. 

“Spencer.” Gideon’s voice is tinny through the speaker, and he presses his phone back against his ear. 

“Call me back the second you get another lead,” Spencer mutters. 

He hangs up without another word. 

[fashionteahouse]

hiiii i LOVEEE all you writtinngggs

i was wondering if you could do a paul lahote story where she’s human and unaware of everything but still friends with everyone (except paul)

she lowkey has a crush on him bc of the imprint pull but he’s always been rude to her and never spent much time around her, one day she’s hanging out with the pack and paul gets jealous + angry so he says some unkind words to you like “i wish i never met you” or something along those lines

she runs out of the house to drive home and the pack hears there was a huge car accident and it sounds like it’s her, she’s not picking up her phone

obviously it’s not her and it took forever (like until the next damn day) to find her but the feelings that paul felt make it a happy ending story

hiii thank you ! and sure i can 💜 hope you enjoy :)

fucking fucked up - paul lahote x reader

It started with one joke that flew out of your mouth. All it took was one of the guys to look over in your direction and laugh. You didn’t expect them to hear you. You watched them play an intense match of football at the beach. You lounged on a broken log as you listened to a tune that was enjoyable for your ears.

You knew one of the guy’s name.

Paul.

You heard things. You didn’t know how true they were.

Seeing him around, made your stomach be filled with butterflies each and every time.

It drove you crazy. There had been times where you had tried to find him on social media. No trace. The mysteriousness of him enticed you. His bold nature made you confident that he wasn’t hiding anything. The type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

He told people how it was, not caring if they could take to it or not. He’s never spoken to you, but now, he abandoned the football taking steps towards you and his mouth moved.

You move your headphone off of one ear.

“Huh?”

“I said, since you know about plays, why don’t you get off your ass and show people how it’s done?”

“Come on, Paul. Don’t be like that.” A guy called over. He seemed to be the leader of the friend group. He looked to be the oldest out of all of them.

“Sorry. I was just making a joke.” You say apologetically, even offering a friendly smile. He didn’t return it. He instead gave you a hardened gaze. “A shitty one at that.” He says finally and turns.

Your smile deflates like busted balloon.

Your feelings weren’t hurt, you just watched him as he abandoned both his friends and the game.

“Sorry about that. He might speak to you recklessly again but just don’t take it to heart. It’s just how he is.”

“Did I offend him?” You ask to the deep voice and friendly gaze.

The brawny man shrugged, “He’ll yell at the sky just for it being blue.”

You look down a bit with a soft chuckle and take your headphones all the way off.

“Well, thank you….”

“Jared.”

“Jared. Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N….Those are your friends?”

“In the flesh.”

“Cool.”

“We can play catch if you want?”

“Sure. I have nothing better to do.”

You caught nothing, but the fact that they made you laugh so hard throughout the game made you forget that you pissed Paul off in the first place.

You found out how funny they were. The oldest of the group was Sam. He had such a strong sense of overlooking things. It was Embry who was a great catcher. Quiet confidence. Jacob and Quil’s banter kept your interest.

Waving a goodbye, you couldn’t believe that you had such a great time with a group of strangers. They weren’t strangers now, but you didn’t know them hours prior.

You saw them when you were at the beach after that. You would sit on a rock or would join.

In the middle of chuckling under your breath at Seth’s tumble, Embry suggests something.

“Wanna go to Emily’s?”

“Yeah.” Seth answered.

“Come on, Y/N. I’ll show you the directions.” Embry invited. You jump off of the rock with your car keys in your hands.

Your stomach ached with hunger as soon as you walked closer to the front door that Seth was holding open. A wide dining room was filled with the friend group that you had made. You’re drowned into hugs and you’re unable to focus on which conversation to pay attention to as each boy tried to get your attention.

All except one.

He sat in a puddle brooded aura as he ate a plate of food quietly.

You met Emily, Sam’s fiancée.

“Wow. This is really good.”

“Thank you!” She beamed at you.

“Might have to start coming over here to help clean your fridge out.”

“Oh, I have plenty of help with that.” She laughs as she pointed at every guy at her table who currently had their cheeks stuffed.

She told you to help yourself to something to drink. You turn with a jug of juice and splashed Paul’s chest, soaking his shirt.

“Oh! Im sorry.” you exclaim as you set the jug down and grab some napkins.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he groaned nastily. He snatched them out of your hands and tried to wipe his chest before just pulling off of his wet shirt.

“My bad.” you stress with your heart pounding in your ears.

“Yeah. Your bad.” he says as he threw the napkins down.

After eating, Quil pulled you outside to play catch. You both tossed a foam football back and forth as you two teased each other. The back door slaps shut and you look over to see a Paul with his arms crossed.

“We should play an actual game of football.” Quil suggests.

“I can’t play no regular game of football. You would squish me.” you laughed a bit.

“What’s wrong with squishing you?” he teases and tossed the ball back to you but it bounced off of your hands as you chuckled out a, “Shut up.”

“You suck ass.”

You look up at a scowling Paul. You roll your eyes a bit.

“Roll your eyes too much, they’ll get stuck in the back of your head.”

“My god…I wish you would stop ruining the vibe.” You mumble as you held your hands open for Quil to throw it back to you.

“My god, I wish I never met you. Good for nothing and just taking up space. Anyway, who even told you that you were welcome here? Like seriously.”

You clench your jaw as it felt like a hardened blow to your chest. You tried to swallow the big knot in your throat as you threw down the ball, you swing the door open with force you never knew you possessed, ignoring the calls of your name to come back.

You stormed through the home and fling your car door open.

“Don’t worry about Paul, Y/N. Let’s go back to our game.” Quil ran out to you trying to cheer you up.

“No. I’m going home. I’m done. With this.” you circle your hand and close your car door. You roared your engine to line and Quil watched as you pulled away from the home.

You lie on your back as you peered up at the ceiling. Your phone was blowing up. You groan and power it off.

Finally getting peace and quiet, you allowed your mind to settle and relax.

The next morning, you munched on cereal as bangs on your front door sounded out in your home. A confused expression was painted on your face as you didn’t know anybody who would knock that loudly and rapidly.

Your first thought was the police but they would’ve announced their prescribed.

“Who is it?” you asked through the door.

“Open the door! It’s Paul.”

Your eyes widen and he knocks again pleading for you to just open the door.

You open it but he rushed in and almost knocked you over by a hug.

“Whoa. I almost fell over.” you say as his arms were right around you but they felt nice. You found out his embrace was your guilty pleasure.

“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t answered the phone.”

“I was falling back.” you answer in a deadpanned voice. He pulled back as he overlooked your face and body. It made your stomach flutter with nervousness.

“You’re not hurt?”

“No..Just my feelings.”

He pulled back and pained expression washed over his face. He looked unrecognizable.

“I went overboard with what I said. I’m not asking for forgiveness.”

“It’s alright. I just know your true feelings.”

“My true feelings is that I was worried. You left so abruptly and there was an accident not too far from the direction where you drove. It was the same car and everything. I was- We all were worried sick.”

“Oh..Yeah…Maybe I shouldn’t have ran out so quick. They did tell me that’s just how you are.”

“What’s how I am?”

“Your unrefined nature.”

He relaxed his stance.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings…I saw you fumble the ball and couldn’t believe that you didn’t catch it. It came out nastier than intended.”

“Instead of making fun of me, you should’ve just showed me how it’s done.”

You earn a heart stopping smile.

“I got you the next time when you come over.”

“So, I’m welcomed back?” you tease.

“Of course. I’m telling you that you’re welcomed back. And I’m telling you that I’m glad I met you. You helped me realize how fucking fucked up I can be.”

You nod and walk back to your table. You groan a bit as you poked at your bowl of cereal with your spoon.

“It’s all soggy now.”

“You seriously eat these?” he asked out as the box was gripped in his hand, he stared at the back of them. You look at him and he looked at you.

“Yeah. Shoo.” you wave off as you steal your box back.

“Hurry up so we can go to Emily’s.” he says as he sits down.

“Yeah, yeah.” you say as you lifted your spoon.

You ate as you studied his actions discreetly.

“Why did you hate me when I first met you?” you ask.

He was quiet for a moment.

“I did…Because of how much I wanted you.”

“You’re an enigma. It hard to trace you. You’re hard to read.”

He gives you a kind smile that lit your heart on fire.

“Good.”

[touyaismycomfortboy]

♡ Suki's sweetheart.

a/n: i'm rewatching my hero academia, and I got to the dorms episode and rewatched the scene where everyone was sad bc of aizawa's lecture, so he made kaminari use his quirk to make him dumb to make his friends laugh and giving kirishima a gift and dksjgnkdjg I just love sweet bkg so I need to write these headcanons <333

this is only my second fic so let me know if you like it!!! still figuring out my style and such so if u have any requests for stories or recommendations on how to make my posts more aesthetic or just wanna say hi pleaseee do <3

word count: 0.7k

synopsis: headcanons about what bkg would do if he found you sad <3

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

genre: pure fluffy comfort

if he walked past your dorm and heard you crying quietly, he wouldn't approach you immediately. he'd walk into his own dorm quickly, go onto tiktok/instagram and go into his folder of saved videos he had for you, and spam your dms with funny/stupid videos he thought you would like.

he doesn't really scroll on his phone like that, but if anyone ever sends him a funny video or he stumbles across one he immediately saves it in his "y/n" folder.

after a couple minutes of spamming you, he'd nonchalantly walk into your room like he didn't see you crying a few minutes ago and crawl into your bed.

he was a man of few words when people around him were sad, never really knowing what words to say. so he just lays next to you with his arms open and lets you nuzzle into his chest while he wraps his big warm arms around you.

if you didn't know, nitroglycerin smells sweet. since he secretes it he smells like sugar/caramel, and it's hard to stay sad when you're cuddling your boyfriend who smells like dessert.

once you stopped crying and it had died down to soft sniffles, he'd grab your waterbottle off your desk and make you drink water, no ifs, ands, or buts. he had to make sure you were taken care of.

he'd wipe the remaining tears off your cheeks and ask if you needed anything, making sure he didn't talk too loud. you were in a very vulnerable state right now, he didn't want to upset you again.

if you were hungry, he'd make you watch the videos he sent you on his phone while he vanished for a few minutes as he went down to the common room kitchen and make you a simple snack, but it still tasted delicious because, well, katsuki is a great chef.

he'd watch you carefully as you ate the snack, seeing if there was any lingering sadness in your face or body language.

he'd ask you if you wanted to talk about it even if he didn't know what he'd say to you, he'd just listen to you if you did talk about it and nod along to your venting.

if it was someone who hurt you, he'd have to resist the urge to leave your room immediately to go blow those extras to smithereens, just sitting there and hugging you instead. having to remind himself that hurting someone else wouldn't make you feel better.

even if it was getting late and you guys had school the next day, he'd refuse to leave your room until he knew for sure you were 100% better. once you finally got him to leave, he would remind you a thousand times to text him if you needed him.

on the off chance that you did message him during the night, he had a special text tone just for your messages that he would wake up to. he'd quickly throw on some sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt as he would quickly (and quietly) walk to your dorm room, open the door and crawl into your bed once more.

on those nights, he wouldn't leave under any circumstances. he'd spend the night with you to make sure he was right there if you needed comfort. if you wanted him to leave, he would leave the bed and not the room. he would rather sleep on the cold hard floor than leave you alone while you're upset.

[lovebugism]

Hii i saw you wanted some smutty requests so here we go:

being frisky at the fun fair with maybe grumpy!eddie? 🤭 or whoever you think would be better.

absolutely adore your writing btw 💕

hi! this is me making sure i still know how to write lol! pls ignore any mistakes bc this isn't proofread hehe but i hope you like it anon! — eddie munson may hate the state fair, but he loves the hell outta you (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.1k)

Eddie’s too proud for the mirror maze.

Correction: Eddie’s too proud to admit that he has no idea how to get out of the mirror maze. 

You hide your giggling behind your palm when he hits another glass pane with a resounding thud. The cartoonish sound echoes through the otherwise empty attraction, along with the boy’s whispered “Fuck!” he tries hard to hide under his breath. 

His fingertips disappear under his curly bangs as he rubs at his forehead, trying and failing to find the spot that aches. He spins on the heel of his worn sneaker, and you find his pretty features bathed in rainbow neon lights and hardened into a boyish pout. 

He glares when he catches you smiling in the face of his plight, doe eyes narrowing in a look of offense — as though you were the one making him run into every mirror.

“It’s not funny,” Eddie grumbles, now kneading his temple. “I wanna go home.”

Your smile only widens. “We still have to get outta here first, Eds,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you pat gently at his chest.

The notion makes his pout deepen. His huff bounces off the glass-metal cage you’re both stuck in as he spins back around again — lest the pretty way you’re looking at him now makes him melt. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbles with a shake of his wild head.

You watch him take a tentative step forward and grin at the back of him. “It’s your fault for being so in love with me,” you joke.

You expect him to turn around and glare again — or to laugh like it’s all a big joke and say, “In your dreams, babe.” But instead, he only sighs. And beneath the soft clanging of his hesitant footsteps against the silver floor, you hear him murmur under his breath, “Yeah, I know…”

His words trail off as he turns a sharp corner. A warning bubbles in your throat, then fades on the edge of your tongue a second later. Eddie rams into his reflection before he can blink. “Shit!” he curses, half-drowned out beneath your giggling and the echoing thud of his previous impact.

“Why don’t you put your arms out in front of you like a normal person?” you wonder through a bout of unbridled laughter.

Eddie grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. He rubs at his forehead with his ringed hand balled in a tight fist — not because he hit his head like an idiot (this time, anyway), but because the neon lights coupled with frustration are making his mind all swimmy. If there was anyone not built for a state fair, it was undoubtedly and unequivocally him.

Knowing this, you exhale a whimsical sigh and wrap arms both your arms around him. “Aw, Eds…” you say, still laughing slightly under your breath as you hug him by the waist. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and rub your warm cheek along the soft leather of his jacket. You peer up at him through your lashes and find his face all pinched together — but softened, still, by the emerald-ocean lights overhead.

“Want me to kiss it better?” you offer with a knowing lilt in your gentle voice.

Wordlessly, and never losing his pout, Eddie nods in the affirmative.

You rise to the tips of your toes and brush a kiss against his temple. The boy exhales a deep sigh through his nose before his tense shoulders relax slowly against you. ‘Cause underneath all the metalhead exterior, of course, is just a really big teddy bear.

“Want another?” you ask when you see the plea swimming in his wide brown eyes.

Eddie, however, shrugs unenthusiastically in response. “If it’ll make you feel better, I guess,” he mumbles, though his lips ache with the urge to kiss yours.

You seemingly know this as you wrap both arms around his neck like a snake trying to suffocate its prey before kissing the breath from his lungs. 

Eddie barely has time to take a breath before you’re licking into his mouth — wet tongue running warm along his chapped lips, body so close he can feel your languid heartbeat pounding against his chest. 

His head swims. His stomach swirls. His mouth waters for more. His head pulls back from you all the same.

“Whoa,” he mumbles, slightly slurred, as his lips click audibly from yours. His chcolate eyes are noticeably lidded, and his mouth is distinctly rosier. The sight of your work makes you grin, similarly kiss-struck. “What are you doing?” he wonders aloud, trying to laugh.

“Kissin’ you,” you answer like it’s obvious.

His heavy eyes flit past you to peer further down the maze. They dart wildly back and forth like he’s looking for extra bodies through the glass panes. Your smile widens. “Fair’s closing, babe. There’s no one else in here…”

You trail off and press your mouth to his neck. Not exactly kissing him there, just smoothing your lips up and down the thrumming tendon of his milky white skin. You hear him sigh like he’s annoyed by it all, but his ringed hands find purchase on your hips in surrender. 

“The shit you get me into…” Eddie huffs at the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut when your teeth scratch at his pulse.

“You love it,” you assure with a smile into his skin.

He squeezes at your hips, as though in warning. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Is it?” you hum sarcastically while, at the same time, nudging at his crotch with your thigh — where you can feel his cock beginning to harden through the thick fabric of his jeans. “‘Cause it kinda feels like you love it.”

“I hate you,” you hear him announce in a low grumble, just before his hand reaches for your neck. You can feel the warm silver of his rings along the back of it when he grabs you there,  pulling you away from his skin to press his mouth mercilessly to yours.

Your back hits the mirror with a dull thud, and you try not to think about how Eddie had run into it minutes prior — lest you break into another giggle fit in the heat of the honeyed moment. You just tangle your fingers in the boy’s silky, wild curls and let him make a mess of you. 

It’s all teeth and tongue. So messy, you can feel a mixture of your saliva on your chin. He kisses you with a brutal adoration, like he’s biting into the sweetest of apples.

Eddie grabs your leg with the hand not cradling the back of your neck. You can feel his rings leaving indents on the warm skin of your thigh from how ardently he’s holding you as he urges your knee up to his hips. You wrap your calf around the back of him obediently, skirt creeping scandalously up your lap. 

A whimper sounds in your throat when Eddie grinds his hips forward, trying hopelessly to soothe the aching of his stiffening cock. The coarse denim presses mercilessly to the wet spot forming in your panties. The unforgiving metal of his zipper nudges at your clit. The world spins around you.

When white lights reflect suddenly in rays along the many mirrors around you, you figure it must be the stars in your eyes. Until someone bangs along the far wall at the edge of the attraction, anyway — a dense and distant thud, thud, thud — as though they were beating the glass with their fist.

Your heart lurches into your throat. You and Eddie part from each other instinctively, squinting at the bright light as you search for the person behind it. Through many layers of distorted glass, you find a figure all in khaki — wearing a cowboy hat and a gold badge on his chest. 

Chief fucking Hopper.

“You got one minute to get the hell outta here!” Jim demands in a distant, but no less stern voice.

Eddie gapes, stunned silent, as the throbbing of pleasure between his legs starts to ebb. He’s even more horrified when you start to laugh aloud to yourself, like all of this is funny to you.

“We’re gonna need a lot longer than that, Hop,” you shout back, still giggling as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Eddie’s navigational skills are shit—”

Chest swirling with equal parts embarrassment, frustration, and longing (an albeit dangerous concoction), Eddie grumbles under his breath and reaches for your hand. “Let’s just fucking go,” he mumbles like a rumbling storm cloud as he leads you down the glass maze with a soft but unyielding touch.

“Wait— Watch out,” you caution when you catch him stomping in the wrong direction. 

Your words are punctuated by a metallic thud and Eddie’s pained shout. “Fuck!”

[azsazz]

Severance

Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Idk if you’re taking requests and it’s okay if you aren’t but I was rereading Feysand bonus chapter and it mentions that Feyre’s libido was heightened due to pregnancy and really wanted a fic where we see that with Az and reader bc I LOVE LOVE your daddy!Az fics and it would be funny seeing Az being a dad but also finding time to pleasure his pregnant mate due to hormones that man’s schedule would be jammed pack hahaha

Warnings: Smut, reader is pregnant, light breeding kink.

Word Count: 2061

Notes: This req is literally from a year ago today 😳 now that's some sort of fate (or mad laziness lol) Also, it's been a hot minute since I've written some smut hopefully it's good.

Bat Babies ages in this fic: Wren, Nyx, Gid 8, Baz 6, Zuzu 3, Jax 2, Knox and Malos in the womb.

_________________________________________

“Wren,” you sigh exasperatedly at your eight year old, “Please go play with your siblings. Mommy just needs a few minutes to herself.” 

It’s hard to keep your tone cool and level while your core is burning, dripping for the mate who’s stepped into the shadows whilst you bargain with your son. The both of you had snuck off for a few quick kisses that turned into something more, and it’s the first time you’ve had any time to yourselves in weeks. You don’t know if it’s being pregnant with two babies this time around making every single one of your senses heightened, but you don’t recall being this horny for your mate during your first four pregnancies.

Oh, you were insatiable, sweetheart, your mate purrs in your mind. You can feel the smugness radiating off of him not only from the bond tethering you, but from where he stands, five feet away and shrouded in darkness. And I loved every moment of it. You did too, of course.

You shut your eyes for a long second so your oldest son doesn’t catch you rolling them. I would love for you to remind me of just how much I loved it, mate, you send back, letting your frustrated desperation cling to your words, if we can ever seem to find the time.

Last week, Zuzu refused to go to Feyre’s painting class even though all of the other cousins were going in for a private session the High Lady had set up specifically so that you and your mate could spend the night alone together. She spent the entire time latched to Azriel’s leg and crying her little eyes out until the both of you gave in and let your daughter stay home. Your only saving grace that night was getting to lounge on the couch with a good book—that really only made you hornier for your mate—whilst Azriel and Zuzu baked cookies in the kitchen and hand delivered them to you with a large glass of milk.

A few days ago, it was Baz who had trouble sleeping and came pounding at your door while your mate was three fingers deep into your sopping cunt. The both of you had hastily gotten dressed, grumbling the entire time you did so, and let your second oldest son into the room. Azriel swiftly avoided Baz’s questioning about why your door had been locked in the first place, and the both of you watched him crawl up onto your bed and settle in the center of the tangled sheets, looking at the both of you expectantly. Baz talked your ears off all night long. 

And it was only last night when Jax who couldn’t be consoled when he couldn’t find his stuffed Suriel for bedtime. Azriel spent an hour scouring your house for the toy while you held Jax close, trying to keep your own emotions calm and serene instead of the frustration you wanted to give into, lest your son pick up on them and dampen his mood further. Even with his keen spymaster abilities and the shadows he’d released to help the cause, Azriel came up empty.

With four young children and twins on the way, it seemed as though they always knew the perfect time to interrupt you and your mate every time you tried to get close to each other. 

Wren frowns, his head falling back on his shoulders as he stares up at you with those hazel eyes that are a gift from his father. They’re pleading, and he really wants to have that sleepover with Gideon and Nyx, but you’ve never been a sucker for those pleading looks. If Wren thinks that huffing and puffing and making sad faces is going to change your mind, he came to the wrong parent.

Especially since he’s interrupted your fun as well.

You tap your foot, waiting your son out. He stares, and you stare back. You even cross your arms over your chest, resting them over the swollenness of your stomach, nearly two-thirds of the way through your pregnancy.

Your body goes taut at the feeling that Azriel lets zip down the bond. It’s one of complete arousal, his obsession with you when you make that stern face. 

It takes all of your willpower not to shift on your feet with the rush of wetness that accompanies the feeling of heat rushing through your veins. Not to clench your thighs together or glance over to where your mate stands, probably staring at you with his hazel eyes, filled with need.

Not that you’d be able to see him in the darkness anyway.

Wren’s pleading draws your attention away from your desires and back to the matter at hand.

“Please, mom!”

Clearing your throat so that it doesn’t falter when you speak, you answer. “You may have a sleepover with Nyx and Gideon tomorrow night if you're a good boy tonight. And that means playing with your siblings for a few minutes until I come to take Jax and Zuz for their baths.”

You’re pretty sure you lost your eldest son when you agreed to the sleepover, and you nearly stumble when he throws himself at you, hugging you tight. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Wren screeches with excitement, and your heart grows when he places a fleeting kiss to your stomach and bolts from the room. You can hear him tearing down the halls to where Baz is loudly making the toys in the living room speak. 

“Sweetheart, are you crying?” Azriel’s voice startles you. No longer is he hiding in the shadows, but at your side, swiping a calloused thumb across your cheek, swiping away the wetness.

“He’s just so sweet,” you gush, leaning into your mate’s arms. You press your ear to his chest, listening to the steady and strong thumping of his heart. You love this man and everything that you’ve built together. Through all of the missions and worrying, to building a home and family together, you truly are grateful for the life that you live.

“You know what else is sweet?” Azriel says, his suggestive whisper caressing the shell of your ear. It causes you to shiver, fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls you closer, lifting you easily into his arms.

“What?” you answer breathlessly, already losing yourself to your mate’s touch again. Namely, his thick cock brushing against your cunt with each step closer to the desk in the office he takes.

You don’t even have to worry about the kids right now. You can fall into the bliss you’ve been so desperately trying to find for the past week, because you noted how Azriel’s shadows trailed your son from the room, at least one always with every child at all times of the day.

“You.” His lips slant over yours, his tongue parting your lips with ease. You meet him halfway, licking, tasting your way as his hands hike up the skirts of your dress and pull your panties to the side as soon as your ass hits the edge of the wooden desk. “Tell me what you need, mate.”

There isn’t time for foreplay, for teasing nips of teeth against your hardened nipples. They’re rubbing against the fabric of your dress just fine. No time for orgasms by his hands, his tongue. You’d hardly be able to enjoy the view of Azriel on his knees for you with the size of your bump.

“Your cock,” you whimper, trying desperately to keep your voice low.

You shudder against the fingers he drags across your cunt, swiping through your slick. You’re ready, more than. You need him right this instant.

Azriel swallows the plea you’re about to release, enjoying the way you tug on his hair as a way to reprimand him. It has him grinning into the kiss, his fingers quickly fumbling with his belt because he’s just as desperate as you are, having not nearly been near you—or in you—enough in the past few weeks. 

Your pesky children are always interrupting.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers easily, and your back arches as he rubs the head of his cock across your sopping heat.

Azriel almost snarls with pleasure at the sight of your bump pressing sky-high. He leans in closer, loving the feeling of the three of you close. You’re so fucking beautiful, and there’s something special about how you look swollen with his child, something the both of you made.

He’s seen it four times over by now, and it never gets fucking old. He’ll keep you good and pregnant until you tell him you don’t want any more children.

And he loves the way you writhe against him, hook your legs around his waist, trying to force him closer, your cunt greedily trying to suck his cock deep into your womb. Loves the way your nails pinch into his shoulders, the way your teeth latch onto his lip to keep quiet when he pushes into you in one fell swoop. 

There’s a burst of blood on his tongue but Azriel loves it, quickly pulling out and pressing back in so that you’ll bite him again. When you come down from your high, you’ll apologize profusely, but he doesn’t care, likes a bit of pain with his pleasure. 

He’ll revel in the redness of your cheeks when your children ask him what happened to him later, though.

“Azriel,” you cry, clutching onto your mate for dear life. You love the feeling of his thick cock stretching you, the gushing between your legs when he so easily finds that spot that has you cumming within seconds like some whore. He knows that you need this release, that the both of you need to be quick and quiet with your fucking. Your children can only be occupied for so long.

“I’ll make sure Cassian or Rhys can take the children tomorrow,” Azriel promises against your mouth, smothering the sounds you make for him. He’s just as desperate to hear you scream, the reminder of it has heat pooling in his core, his pace quickening. “Then, you can scream as loud as you want, mate, all night long.”

A second orgasm washes over you like a wave. Azriel didn’t even have to stick his hands between the both of you, but he is now, wanting one more before he releases himself. It’s brewing quickly, and he circles his fingers over your clit, skilled and an expert at everything that has to do with you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You beg, hips rolling to meet his. Azriel groans into your neck, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over the hurt.

“I’m going to cum,” he pants harshly, straightening to his full height to look down at you in all of your sexed-out glory. The way you can barely keep yourself braced against the desk, the way your mouth is parted in that perfect shape that almost makes him want to pull out and stick his cock down your throat instead. The way that your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head that you can see the bond connecting the both of you, completely overcome with desire.

You keen your agreement, words jumbled as he takes you to your peak again, the both of you shuddering with pleasure as your orgasms overcome you. 

He rubs you through your pleasure, rocking his hips slowly as he empties himself deeply inside of you. If you weren’t  already pregnant, Azriel’s sure you would be now, with how much cum he’s pumping inside of you.

Your mate hugs you close, rubbing your back until you come down from your high. 

You lean back, blinking up at him blearily, and it makes Azriel want to take you all over again.

“Is that a promise, mate?” You ask, referring to him making sure that all of your children will be away at their aunts and uncles tomorrow night, leaving the both of you to yourselves. Well, plus the two in your uterus.

Azriel hums, finally pulling out of you. You gasp at the loss but his fingers are there, stuffing the leaking cum back into your cunt. You’re not sure your legs can support you right now, but they don’t need to, because you’re already rearing for another round. 

“It’s a promise, sweetheart.”

[seoltzuki]

nyc baby!

mina x fem reader

fluff, suggestive

gentle, fleeting, free, adoring, just wondering what life would be like as lovers in a normal world

a/n: self-indulgent bc nyc is a place i adore very much and i'm convinced that in my future life i belong there with my future lover xx (also title stolen from an old work of mine that was with seulgi instead)

Would we be happier in another normal life?

Mina sighs happily as she finishes up the New York Times mini crossword. She’s been on a roll with these ever since you landed, even sending you a screenshot during her Boucheron event.

You’re just about to slip out of bed to grab bagels from across the street when she suddenly whines, grabbing your arm and pulling you back with a pout.

“Needy,” you tease, sinking back into the sheets.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully. “Funny coming from you. Don’t you remember last night?”

“You mean a couple of hours ago?” you reply, grinning. “I don’t think I was the needy one—you’ve left a number on me,” you say, pointing to the faint red marks on your neck.

Mina’s cheeks flush pink as she fumbles for a defense. "Well, it’s your fault," she mutters. "You sent me that picture while I was at the event."

You laugh softly. "It was literally just a good night selfie."

She groans, burying her face in the pillow. "You were in your robe, looking all cozy and good! What did you expect?"

You grin, leaning closer. "So, you admit it—you were the needy one after all."

Mina peeks out from the pillow, her cheeks flushed as she grins mischievously. “Fine, maybe I was,” she admits, her voice low and teasing. “It’s hard to control myself when my girl always looks this good.”

Her words send a rush through you, and before you can think, your lips are on hers. The kiss starts soft, but her fingers are already tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. The warmth of her mouth deepens the kiss, and soon, everything else fades away as you melt into her.

She shifts beneath you, tugging you on top of her as the kiss becomes more intense, her hands roaming over your back, making it hard to focus on anything but her touch.

When you finally pull away, breathless, your foreheads rest together, a grin spreading across your face. “I guess the bagels can wait.”

Mina laughs softly, her fingers brushing your cheek. “Definitely worth waiting for.”

~~~

After breakfast, the two of you wandered over to Bryant Park, sipping coffee beneath the trees, watching the city hum with life.

You spent the next hour window shopping along Fifth Avenue, admiring the elegant displays without any pressure to buy. There was only so much you could bring back home, but Mina’s eyes sparkled at every storefront, and you found yourself more captivated by her excitement than anything in the windows.

Now, you’re strolling through Central Park, hand in hand, the noise of the city fading away as you walk the winding paths. The soft rustle of leaves and distant laughter blend into the air as Mina leans into you, her arm wrapped around yours.

“So, you still want to head to DUMBO for the bridge view, right?” you ask, glancing at Mina over your sunglasses.

Her face lights up instantly. “Yes! Let’s call a taxi,” she says, already reaching for her phone.

“No way! Let’s do this right—let’s take the subway. The real New York experience.”

Mina hesitates, her excitement shifting to uncertainty as she raises an eyebrow. “The subway?” she repeats, a little unsure.

You give her hand a reassuring squeeze, so excited for the trip. “Yes! Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

She lets out a soft sigh, still unconvinced, but seeing the sparkle in your eyes, she can’t help but smile. “Fine,” she agrees, stepping closer. Her arm wraps around your waist, fingers lingering on your hip. “But only because you seem so into it,” she murmurs, pressing herself against your side, her warmth seeping into you.

You chuckle, your hand sliding to her lower back, pulling her in even tighter. “I promise, you won’t regret it.” You lean in, brushing a light kiss against her cheek.

~~~

The subway car sways gently as it rumbles along, packed with commuters and tourists. You and Mina are squeezed together in a corner, her warmth pressed against your side. Around you, the chaos of the subway unfolds: someone is doing chin-ups on the railing, drawing a few amused glances, while others are asleep in their seats or lost in music blaring from their speakers.

Mina leans in closer, her voice a whisper. “They’re staring at us.”

You glance up and muffle a laugh. “That’s because you’re staring at them, baby. Your sunglasses are see-through.”

Her cheeks flush with a hint of embarrassment as she quickly looks away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Shit! I didn’t mean to,” she hushes.

You give another glance at the two people across from you and something catches your eye. You squint and notice keychains with photocards. And that’s… Nayeon’s face?

"Onces…" you whisper to yourself, holding on to Mina’s hand tighter.

Just before you can tell Mina that they’re fans, she gasps and points at the window of the doors. You smile, enchanted by her reaction. She’s so cute as she admires the view of the city through the subway doors, as you pass over the Brooklyn Bridge. The contrast from the underground darkness to the stunning sunset hovering over the skyline is breathtaking.

"Baby, look! It’s beautiful!" She exclaims, hand over her mouth as she shakes you a little.

You sigh and nod, pushing your worries away. "It’s very pretty."

~~~

Later, you find yourselves sitting on a bench at Brooklyn Bridge Park, the quiet hum of the city settling around you like a soft blanket. The lights from the skyscrapers flicker in the distance, casting reflections on the calm waters.

Mina sits close, but you can sense something’s off. She’s fidgeting with her hands, her fingers twisting together in a nervous rhythm. You glance at her, about to ask what’s on her mind, but before you can speak, she breaks the silence.

“Do you think we’d be happier in another life? A normal one?”

You frown, confused. “What?”

She hesitates for a second, looking down at her hands before continuing. “I just… I wonder what it’d be like to live a normal life. Not an idol. No eyes on us all the time.” Her voice softens, tinged with a sadness you rarely hear. “I knew those people in the subway recognized me. I could see it in their faces. And I saw how you tensed up, too.”

You shift uncomfortably, realizing she had noticed your own worry.

She sighs, her gaze drifting out over the city. “I just wonder if things would be easier, better, without the spotlight. Without everyone always watching.”

You stay quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in as the city hums in the background. The weight of what she’s feeling lingers between you, heavy and familiar. You reach over and gently take her fidgeting hands in yours, giving them a soft squeeze.

“Mina,” you say quietly, your voice steady, “I know it’s hard. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is watching. But I don’t think another life would make us happier.”

She turns her head slightly, her eyes searching yours, but you continue before she can say anything.

“You’ve worked so hard to get where you are, and yeah, it comes with all this pressure, but it also brought so much joy. To you, to your fans, and to me.” You offer her a small smile. “You’re not just an idol. You’re you. And even though people recognize you, that doesn’t mean you can’t find peace or moments like this.”

Her expression softens, though the hint of doubt still lingers in her eyes.

“I know it’s not easy,” you continue, brushing a thumb across her hand, “but I wouldn’t trade this life with you for anything.”

Mina blinks, her eyes glassy as she bites her lip. She leans in, resting her head on your shoulder, her breath steadying. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “We’ve got each other. And no matter what, we’ll find our own kind of normal.”

I love you so much.

Mina squeezes your hand back, her fidgeting finally stopping as the tension melts away.

After a few more moments of peace, you nudge her gently. “Pizza?”

She lifts her head, blinking up at you before a small laugh escapes her lips. “Yeah,” she says softly, a smile finally breaking through. “Pizza sounds perfect.”

“And we’re definitely trying pineapple on it this time,” you add with a grin.

She scrunches her nose, groaning playfully. “Ugh, yuck… Fine, baby. But only because it’s you.”

"Yes! NYC baby!"

[joshujin]

hello a request for how you think svt would react to their s/o crying about something that is honest to god objectively silly? please and ty po 🤲🏼

ot13 reacting to you crying about something incredibly dumb

request guidelines ⟡ submit now!

okay for the sake of saving my brain from thinking too hard, let’s say reader is crying bc they watched a tiktok that explained how a specific type of fish are born with the instinct to immediately escape their parents bc they eat their young lmao (yes, this happened to me and yes, i cried. mind ur business)

note: afab!reader, mention of period in woozi’s

seungcheol 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

he sees you crying on the couch, staring at your phone, and immediately sits down next to you and puts an arm around you. he’ll ask what happened, voice all soft around the edges so that you’re not overstimulated on top of the little meltdown you’re having. did you get bad news about something? did someone say something mean to you? were you watching a sad movie? please let it be a sad movie. you finally look up at him and show him your phone, where he sees a fish tank, and he frowns. you explain the tiktok you were just watching and he begins to laugh but immediately cuts it off with a cough when you begin to cry even harder. he’s all “okay, okay, i’m sorry, baby!” “i know it’s not funny!” “you’re right, it’s sooooo sad!” “me? yeah, i’m sad too! of course i’m sad!” and he does his best to convince you he’s right there with you, sad about these fish, but really, he’s just trying his hardest not to laugh—not because he thinks you’re ridiculous but because he’s so endeared.

jeonghan 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

his mouth makes a small o as he nods along at this information (that you’re practically wailing at him btw), and when you’re done explaining, he tells you that studies show fish can feel emotions and that he’s sure the baby fish who survive grow up to be very happy and content adults, thinking this will make you feel better. instead, you look at him with new tears in your eyes and you say, “SO THEY CAN FEEL FEAR WHEN THEY’RE ESCAPING THEIR MOM???” needless to say, he spends the rest of the day trying to soothe you (and himself because you’re making him a tiny bit anxious), but when he finally gets you away from your phone (and deletes tiktok behind your back), he cuddles you and strokes your back gently while you fall asleep from the exhaustion of sobbing about fish, and despite the stress of wanting to see you smile again, he thinks about how lucky he is to have such a cute partner that cries about such cute things.

joshua 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

he stares at you blankly at first but immediately schools his expression into a more empathetic one. “oh baby, i’m so sorry, that sounds so… scary…” he tries not to make it sound like a question at the end. he’s choosing his words super carefully because he isn’t sure he understands why exactly you’re crying about this, but he knows that it must be important, so he’ll try to get it. it’s risky because it might just make you cry more, but he asks some questions to see if he can understand a little better. “how many babies do they give birth to?” “do they eat them right away?” “why do they do that?” “i know they have an instinct to get away, but do you think the babies know what’s happening?” and more, all while gently rubbing your back. fortunately, the questions he asks makes you feel validated in your feelings because honestly, half of the hysteria was knowing you were being a little silly for crying about this. and he doesn’t make you feel silly. you don’t know the answers, so you google them together, and by the end of it, you feel a little more grounded, remembering this is literally just how nature is sometimes lol. joshua makes a mental note to refrain from serving you fish for the next few months.

jun 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

you have to repeat why you’re crying one or two times because he’s so confused at first. surely, you’re not crying about baby fish. but once you stop crying long enough to properly explain, he thinks he understands it. “oh, that is upsetting,” he genuinely agrees with you. “it’s like if our OCL—” the cat you raise together “—had babies and immediately ate them. that’s so s—” he doesn’t even get to finish the thought because you’re immediately sobbing harder. from there, he panics and tries everything, maybe too many things. he tries cuddling you, he puts on a tv show to distract you, he takes OCL and plops the cat in your lap for comfort, he throws a blanket around you, he makes you soup, etc. etc. by the end of it, you’re tucked into his side, hanging onto him like a little koala bear, the cat stretched out across both of your bodies, both of you exhausted and asleep on the couch.

soonyoung 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

he immediately starts crying as soon as you finish telling him. “what the fuck? bro, that’s so fucking sad, what the fuck?” while sniffling and sobbing between words. you just sob a miserable “i know!!!” he lowkey regrets asking you why you were crying because he could’ve gone his entire life never having to know this information. he keeps blubbering curses and whining about how there must be something else for them to eat other than their fucking children. “wait, what do fish even eat…?” you frown and admit you have no idea. you hold onto each other on the couch and when both of your hysterics finally subside, you binge-watch the creator’s tiktok account (because despite that sad fact about their pregnant pet fish, they also have a lot of wholesome content), and by the time you’re done, you’re both giggling and talking about buying a fish for yourselves (definitely NOT a baby eating one). “i want one of those goldfish with the fat heads,” he announces. “oooo me too,” you agree. “what would we name our fish?” “horangi.” “seriously?” “what? it’s orange.” by the end of the week, you two have a pair of pet fish (because getting only one would make the fish lonely) named tiger and tony (yes, after tony the tiger; you obviously got zero say in naming them) and a pact to never eat sushi ever again (lasts four days, you cave first).

wonwoo 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

he watches you intently as you ramble on and on about these baby fish, face carefully blank even though he kind of finds this amusing. he actually heard about this before—maybe he saw the tiktok, or maybe he watched a documentary that mentioned it. he tells you that it’s okay because the fish give birth to so many fry (he informs you that’s what they’re called), and that they hide in plants, or if they’re in aquariums, their owners usually separate them until they’re bigger so a lot of them will survive. you tell him that’s not the point; it’s that fries (he refrains from correcting you and telling you they’re not called fries in plural form 🍟) shouldn’t have to be born with the instinct to run away from their parents because they’re going to eat them. he nods, thinking, okay that didn’t work, and moves on to plan B: simply asking what will make you feel better. you sarcastically say, “i don’t know, can you save all the fries from their mommies?” he smiles and responds, “no, but i can get you some french fries and maybe fried chicken and we can cuddle and watch a movie?” you obviously fight to keep a smile off your face, but you force a pout and shrug like you don’t care (you care). “i guess that’s a start.” wonwoo has the takeout in front of you within the hour, and with the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms around you while you watch the movie, you forget about the fish for the next 24 hours… until wonwoo casually makes a joke about how you were crying about fish moms eating their fry and the only thing that helped you feel better was eating fries (he finds out the hard way that it’s too soon).

woozi 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“huh,” he says slowly after you explain because he doesn’t know what else to say. fish? you’re crying about FISH? as he gathers you into a tight hug on the couch and rubs your arms soothingly, your head tucked under his chin while you sniffle and mumble about evil fish parents, he thinks about why you could possibly be crying about this. he wonders if your time of the month is coming, but he doesn’t ask, of course, because he values his life. he discreetly pulls out his phone and unlocks it over your back so you can’t see, and he pulls up the period app you have no idea he uses to keep track of your cycle (it’s helpful for him to gauge your needs and feelings, and he’s able to foresee when you’ll need more of his time… and more of your favorite junk foods hehe). sure enough, your period should be arriving in a few days. he knows the drill; he orders your favorite takeout for delivery, gets your heating pad and some blankets, and makes you spearmint tea (he read somewhere a few months ago that it helps with menstrual symptoms and it seems to work with you). in short, he does a phenomenal job of helping you regulate your emotions, and you feel yourself again after dinner is done. you spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, chatting about random things and sharing kisses until the two of you fall asleep.

minghao 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

he can’t help but frown a little as you tell him why you’re crying, but when you’re done, he nods. “and why exactly does that make you sad?” he asks thoughtfully. you balk at him. “because the BABIES just know to run away from their MONSTROUS CANNIBAL PARENTS!!! did you not hear anything i said?!” he’s not at all flustered, simply nodding again. “i see. does it upset you because the parents should be safe spaces for their kids?” you nod vigorously. “yes!!!” “and you’re sad because the babies don’t have that and they’re born knowing it?” it’s all information you told him, but somehow, reiterating it the way he does calms something in you. “yes…” you mutter at a more acceptable volume now. “can you imagine knowing from birth that your parents aren’t safe and you’re entering the world with no one?” minghao hums and holds you even tighter. “i can’t. my parents have been great. can you?” “no, my parents would never eat me,” you state petulantly. minghao smiles but doesn’t laugh, knowing it might come across as him laughing at you. “we’re lucky, huh?” minghao asks. “that we have parents who love us and keep us safe and want the best for us.” your tears subside and you nod hesitantly. “and we’re lucky that because we grew up with that, when we have kids, we’ll be parents who love them and keep them safe and definitely don’t eat them.” you laugh at that one and it’s music to minghao’s ears. he takes your hand and squeezes it and you give in, wrapping your arms tightly around him. he tells you how much he loves you and how great of a parent you’ll be someday, and you forget all about the fish, instead letting your head fill up with daydreams about children with minghao.

mingyu 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

you know that clip of mingyu at a concert and mid-ment, the crowd randomly starts screaming so he looks up, all confused and goes “wae?” in tiny? that’s exactly how i picture him asking “what?” when you tell him about the baby fish. he’s half mortified at what you just told him, but still so concerned about your emotional state, he can’t fully lose himself in the horror of knowing there are fish out there that give live birth and immediately eat their children. he holds you as you cry, his arms tight around you because he knows that’s the weight you prefer when you’re sad or anxious, but he’s kind of just looking off into the distance, as much disturbed by this information as you are sad. after a few minutes of hugging and soothing, you sigh and wipe the last of your tears away and smile, thanking mingyu for not judging you and taking care of you, but when you pull away, you see the faraway look on his face and you frown and ask him what’s wrong. “i… i just can’t believe there’s a mommy fish out there eating her newborn kid right now…” you’re alarmed by how distraught he is (no, you do not stop to think that this is the kind of distress you probably put him through on a near daily basis), and you switch gears, becoming the comforter instead of the comfortee. the tactic that wins is letting him lay down, full weight on top of you, his face pressed against your chest as he quietly complains about how crazy fish are. “like, why even decide to be parents? just live your life without kids and eat other things! it’s so irresponsible, bringing a child into the cruel ocean just to eat them.” and you hum and agree with all his points, smiling a little at how cute he is (okay, maybe now you realize how funny it is that you were so upset about this).

seokmin 𓆡𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

the gradual terror that seeps into his face the longer you talk about these cannibalistic fish moms is so funny, your rambling and weeping eventually peters out and you kind of just giggle at his expression. “how can you laugh at a time like this?!” he asks, panicked about all the baby fish in the ocean with no parents to rely on. he starts complaining about how we have enough to worry about with the ocean without throwing baby eating moms into it: unsustainable fishing practices, dying coral, deep-sea monsters, “except that one anglerfish, she is not a monster.” you ask what he’s talking about and he makes the mistake of showing you the story and the fanart people made of it (another one to really drive the point home). you decide this is a million times worse than cannibal fish moms and you’re both violently scream sobbing for the next hour. [a/n: fucking crying again looking at these links i fucking hate it here bro she just wanted to see the sun bro]

seungkwan 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

soooooo perplexed. keeps going “hm?” “huh?” “this is about fish?” “wait, what? is this a story?” you’re actually starting to get a little irritated at all the questions, you end up yelling your answers without knowing it and he’s just like “aigoo aigoo ok ok alright” and he gives up trying to understand, just running both hands up and down your arms and peppering you with kisses even though you’re trying to shove him away for taking too long to understand why you’re so upset about the baby fish. you settle down and relax after a few minutes of him holding you and saying sweet things, but then he has the nerve to joke that he’s craving sushi now. needless to say, you’re giving him the silent treatment until he agrees to watch all of this creator’s videos so he can understand how serious and sad this is (he’s not sad; he thinks the fish are very cute but he’s good at pretending he is).

vernon 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

opposite of dk—face doesn’t change even a little bit the entire time you tell him why you’re crying. not a muscle moved, just listening very seriously and intently. at the end of it, he nods and goes, “ah! yes, i heard about this before,” he says calmly. “but you can’t really fault the parents, babe. they’re small but highly predatory fish, and they instinctively eat anything that moves, so they mistake the babies for prey. if you think about it, maybe the babies should develop the instinct to stay still when born instead of immediately swimming away. maybe it’s the babies’ fault.” he keeps going, not registering the look on your face as utter bewilderment. “besides, those babies grow up to do exactly what their parents do. so really, they’re not even trying to break the cycle of generational trauma, y’know?” when you have no words to respond, he smiles and reaches for the remote before he puts an arm around you and turns the tv on. “anyway, should we watch finding nemo? maybe that will make you feel better.”

dino 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

very serious about this because you crying about anything is Very Serious™️ to him. he is relieved when he realizes it’s nothing harmful or damaging to you, but he stills gets angry at those “stupid fish who have zero business procreating” on your behalf. when he sees the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips, he starts really playing it up and exaggerating it until you’re giggling and rolling your eyes and telling him to stop and that he’s so silly. your giggles are like drugs to him so he absolutely does not stop. “hey, what are you giggling for?! this is horrible news! should we protest? make signs? go to the aquarium? ask to speak to a manager? demand basic fish rights for these baby fish? this is so ridiculous! inhumane—or whatever you call it when it’s fish!” he storms off, grumbling under his breath about the nerve of these “so-called parents,” and you follow him, cackling the whole way. when he stops, you wrap your arms around him from behind and thank him for making you laugh. his play anger dissipates and he smiles widely, turning around so he can properly wrap his arms around you. “feel better, baby?” “mhm.” kiss kiss smooch ɔˆз(ˆ⌣ˆc)♡

a/n: this was my first reaction request and tbh i was intimidated having to figure out how each member would react in my head but this ended up being really fun LOL. the creator in question is fish4everchannel on tiktok! they explained how they needed to get more plants for their aquarium to prepare for their fish to give live birth bc the babies need to hide as soon as they’re born and i was crying so hard for no reason lmao. don’t get me started on the anglerfish, though. i would’ve made that the scenario but 1. there is nothing “silly” about her she is everything to me and 2. i fully believe each member would just cry along with reader and i will take no arguments ┐(￣ヘ￣;)┌

[kamii-2]

I neeeed a paige x reader with the reader using the strap bc I just saw a post where they said they would strap paige down and they r just so real for that 😝🎀

hi anon!! this idea is funny asf but also real asf, so i hope you enjoy it!!

warning(s): cussing, smut

genre: smut

pairing(s): paige bueckers x reader

==================================

“paige, can i strap you tonight?” you asked while leaning against the kitchen island while paige was in the living room on the couch, “absolutely not.” she laughed. “why? i wanna know what it feels like to fuck someone with the strap.” you begged, “no. you are not fucking me the damn strap.” she laughed again, “bro please.” you pleaded while walking up behind her. she put her head back and looked up at you, “please?” you asked again. “fine but this is the one and only time.” she gave in, you smiled and walked around to in front of her. “thank you.” you kissed her on the cheek, “when can i?” you asked her, “later in the day so i can mentally prepare myself for this.” she said and you laughed but she was serious.

-

you kissed her on the lips before lining up with her entrance, “are you ready?” you asked with your hands on her hips. “…yea.” she seemed unsure, “before i start i’d like to say you can tell me to stop whenever you’d like and i won’t get mad.” you told her while your thumbs rub her hips in reassurance, she nodded and you slowly pushed in. “it doesn’t feel right y/n.” she looked uncomfortable, “it will for a little because your body isn’t used to getting stretched like this.” you told her while pushing the rest in slowly. you gave her a little to get used to the feeling before you thrusted in and out.

she started breathing heavily, soft moans slipping out. “fuck, go faster.” she was already asking for more. you were surprised she already liked it but you weren’t complaining at all. “i should’ve let you do this sooner.” paige said while breathing heavier than before. “see, i knew you’d like this.” you smiled while going faster like she asked. actual moans were starting to spill out of her mouth instead of whimpers and heavy breathing.

paige gripped your arm hard as she was about to cum, definitely leaving a bruise. “i-i’m about to cum.” she groaned out as she gripped your arm harder. you kept going and soon enough she came on the strap. “maybe i’ll let you do this again one day.” she said out of breath as she used to elbows to sit up and watch you take the strap off. “what happened to ‘this is the one and only time’ hm?” you teased her as you say next to her leaning in a little, “shut up.” she laughed and she pushed your face away.

==================================

im sorry this is short but i hope you enjoyed it!! i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[revelboo]

how many souls have you taken Revel bc ive seen multiple ppl promising their life to you and with your delicious writing im about to be yet another life in your debt 😭😭

So, so many souls. Maybe I’m an Eldritch horror bartering in the shadows. Maybe I’m just a collection of exceptionally clever crows in a trench coat with a stolen cell phone. You’ll never know…

Finally ran out of space on the shelf… 18+ content mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 97

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Watching Starscream and Soundwave murmuring to you, worrying over you, makes Megatron feel uncomfortably off balance. It’s the tender way Soundwave cups your face, tucking your hair behind your ear and the way Starscream runs his servos over you to make sure you’re unharmed. He’s jealous, he realizes. And he hates it. Not only that, not only jealous, but lonely and that’s so much worse. Surrounded by his followers all the time, but unable to really trust many of them, he’s isolated himself. Alone. Growling softly, optics narrowing, a part of him despises Starscream’s happiness. After all the Seeker’s done, he doesn’t deserve for things to break his way. To be happy and it twists angrily about his spark. “If you’re not going to play with your little pet, maybe I should,” he snarls just to needle Starscream and it works, the mech glaring, wings flicking up and quivering.

• “Cut it out,” you snap at Megatron, and Starscream stiffens, wings flaring slightly. Tensed to protect you when Megatron lashes out at your impudence, because there’s no way you’ll go unscathed for that. For defying him. Watches Megatron’s optics narrow, and Starscream’s servos tighten on you. Ready to grab you and bolt. He’s a much smaller target this size, can fly off and hide with you until Megatron calms down. Soundwave can fend for himself. And then to his utter shock, Megatron laughs. “Stop being a jerk, you already got a free show.”

• Voice wavering as you glare at Megatron and your heart races, you’re encouraged that he thinks your anger is funny and that he’s not getting pissed off. Because he’d been trying to provoke Star and you’re sure all of them know it. So you’d panicked and drawn his attention to you instead. Soundwave’s hands flex against you as if wanting to tell you to stop. And Starscream reaches around you to cover your mouth, growling when you twist your head away. Know they’re worried you’ll push too hard and direct Megatron’s anger at you. “Don’t, little one,” Soundwave growls, voice low as he and Star exchange a look.

• “Let our little pet speak,” Megatron laughs, waving a hand. “Primus knows, no one else here is willing to contradict me.” Uncertain, Soundwave vents against you. Almost tempted to hook a thought in Megatron’s processor, because amusement wasn’t what he was expecting. And he desperately wants to know what their leader is thinking right then. What he thinks of you, because there’s a hunger on the warlord’s face he’s seen before. It’s the look he’d worn in the gladiator pits, defiant and starving to be seen, recognized. “You have a problem fragging in front of me? You didn’t before.”

• “To be fair, I didn’t know you were there until you said something. I was a bit busy,” you counter, chin lifting as your face reddens. And Starscream knows you well enough to know the attitude is all bluster. You’re frightened, he can feel you trembling against him, one of your hand reaching back to grip his arm, the other grabbing Soundwave like you need them to anchor you. Your fear doing things to him. “Go find your own human if you want a show.”

• “Why would I do that, when I already have my own?” Doesn’t mean to say that, to make that claim. Only to antagonize you because your irritation with him is delicious. Ignoring the two other mechs, he stares at you, daring you to contradict him. Watching those eyes narrow, before they slide over him from helm to ped in a slow perusal that makes him freeze. That to his utter shock makes his spike stir behind his plating. Because it’s one thing to taunt and tease. Giving in to that same deviancy Starscream and Soundwave are lost in the grips of? It’s tempting. So tempting. “And if I order them to frag you so I can watch?” If he frags you?

• Can feel the tension in both of your mechs, their hands almost bruising on you. “If you want to watch, just say it,” you mutter, turning in their arms to face Star. Seeing the fury there as you go up on tiptoe to brush your mouth against his. Know this whole thing is meant to demean him, to make him angry. To prove he’s powerless. That he can’t protect you, but you can protect him. If he’s a ticking time bomb about to go and cause as much collateral damage as possible, and you know he is, you have to distract him. “This isn’t his. It’s yours,” you whisper against his mouth, arching into him. “I’m yours.”

• Servos tangling in your hair as your mouth slides against his, his optics shutter. Blocking out Soundwave and Megatron, focusing on you. The warmth of you against him, those soft hands sliding down his chassis to brush against his plating. Asking. They’re watching, Soundwave is almost pressed against your back, his knuckles brushing the other mech as he strokes over you, but he slowly relaxes into you anyway. Pretending this is okay. Because no matter what happens, you are his. His sparkmate, bound to him. Let Megatron watch and see what he can’t have. Freeing his spike, he vents against your throat as Soundwave’s hands grip your hips and lift you for him. Knows the communications officer is trying to shield you from Megatron’s view as much as possible and he appreciates it even as it annoys him that he needs the help.

• That breathy noise you make, head falling back against Soundwave when Starscream enters you goes straight through Megatron. Shifting on his throne, resisting the urge to move closer to see. With Soundwave’s back to him, his body is shielding you from view. But he can hear the wet sound of Starscream thrusting inside you, the Seeker’s low growls and hitching vents. Soundwave murmuring to you, too low to pick out the words. Optics half shuttered, he tries to focus on just you. Hating Starscream in that moment more than he’s ever hated him before. For having this, for being happy when he doesn’t deserve it. He’s not the one who’s lost everything. Who’s sacrificed everything for his goals. For what he believes in. And what he gained? Ash and death. Nothing good, and he wants something warm and soft in that moment. Someone who can’t plot against him or use him. Will defy him and challenge him. He wants you.

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[newluvrs]

Wonbin ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: WE ARE MAKING OUT - YEULE, MURA MASA word count: 2.5k bb note: literally just wrote this bc I had the urge to kiss a man

Your fingers nervously fidget with Wonbin’s in the small space between you, too scared to look up at him.  The hints you’ve been sending him all night bold and obvious, a stark contrast to the way you’re behaving right now.  Your lip is pulled between your teeth, and you wish you could watch the expression on his face as you use your tongue to soothe the area you chewed on.  He thinks its funny how you can never just say what it is that you want.  Instead you throw him blatantly obvious gazes and touches.  

Like tonight as the two of you were out with friends you insisted you get SomiSomi, then when he wasn’t looking you purposefully made sure to get the SoftServe on the corner of your mouth, turning to him with a pout to help you wipe it off.  When his thumb slid over your bottom lip you puckered your lips to press a kiss to it.  And from there the hints only got more extreme.  Huffing when you saw the couple on screen kiss during the movie, constantly reapplying more gloss to your lips then asking Karina if you looked good, chewing on the straw of your drink until it was nothing but a shredded piece of plastic. 

Of course Wonbin got the hint ages ago, but he thinks its funnier to see the ways in which you’ll make a fool of yourself just to get him to kiss you.  He pretends not to get the hints, nonchalant as ever.  He likes how you react to him, how when he leans in too close you freeze up in anticipation.  He pressed his face close to yours earlier, he almost felt bad when you closed your eyes thinking he was gonna kiss you and instead he pulled an eyelash away from your cheek.  Life would be so easy for you if you would just ask for what you want, because he would always give it to you, no hesitation.  But he doesn’t mind doing this with you, he’d do it forever if you’d let him.

When you stepped through your apartment door and threw yourself on the couch he thought you might be upset, like maybe he took his private joke too far.  Your baggy shirt rides up your hips a little as you stare at the ceiling.  You think about just caving and asking him point blank, at a loss with how he can’t take a hint.  And you would just ask if you weren’t so nervous, this aspect of your relationship still very fresh.  You cover your face as you’re deep in thought, it should not be this hard to ask your boyfriend to make out with you.  You feel the couch dip next to you and you sit up, pulling your hands away from your face as you flex your fingers.  He hasn’t said anything since you got home, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him after your many failed attempts this evening.  Instead you choose to resign yourself to just playing with his hands as you pointedly try and not make eye contact with him.  

He leans forward, ducking his head down to try and get a look at your face, and you just turn it further away from him, sucking on your lip out of nervousness.  You’re not trying to pout, matter of fact you’re not even mad, he just makes you so nervous.  Every time you’re with him it feels like it’s hard to breathe.  Even when you were just friends, he always had a certain way of making you feel like it was easiest thing in the world to love him.  The air starts to feel a little charged as Wonbin gently pulls his hand away from yours.  You’re about to turn to him and tell him you’re not upset when he grabs you by your waist to pull you closer to him on the couch, the action catching you off guard.  Now it’s your turn to pretend like you don’t understand, playing coy as you continue to not look at him.  Wonbin wants to laugh now at how the roles have reversed, you always seem to switch up when you come face to face with the consequences of your actions.  A beat of silence passes and you think maybe that was it, that nothing else is going to come of this.  

“y/n..”

The way he softly calls your name makes you feel like you were dropped in ice water, making you feel wide awake.  His voice sweet with the way he calls it, you think your name fits perfectly in his mouth.  The letters and intonations coming together to make it your name but somehow sweeter.  When the initial shock wears off you bring yourself to look at him.  

Your first thought is that he’s closer than you thought he was, stomach doing cartwheels as your eyes travel down his features.  When your eyes reach his lips he notices how they linger there a little longer before you bring your gaze up to match his.  He can’t wipe the knowing smile off his face as he speaks. 

“hey”

“hi”

You want to cringe when you hear the way your voice shakes, but right now you’re too distracted, lost in the deep gaze of Wonbin’s pretty eyes.  He just looks at you so fondly it makes you feel like your chest is going to crack open.  An invisible string pulls the two of you closer to each other, until you might as well be on his lap.  He keeps doing the glance from your eyes back down to your lips, but each time he lingers a little longer, pulls himself a little closer.  The tension in the air burns your lungs with every inhale, anticipation and tenderness making your skin warm.  You’ve only been with him like this a handful of times, but already you’ve come to memorize the moves he makes before he gives in.  You suck your bottom lip between your teeth again, just out of habit.  Wonbin brings a hand to your face, using his thumb to pull on your bottom lip to get you to stop.  Your lips part at the action, quick and quiet breaths leaving you.  

Instead of removing his hand, Wonbin chooses to slide it to rest at your jaw, gently caressing your face.  When he leans forward, you close your eyes, remaining as still as possible.  He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling away again.  You pray that he doesn’t notice the way you try and follow him, the hand still cupping your face preventing you from doing so.  A furrow finds its way on your brow, impatience beginning to overpower you.  When you’re the first one to lean forward this time, Wonbin obliges, but this time all he gives you is a quick peck before he’s pulling away again.  Before you can complain he’s pulling you to be seated in his lap, legs resting comfortably on either side of him.  He smooths a hand up your leg, fingers brushing against the exposed skin.  As your caught off guard by the sudden motion, he feels like now’s the perfect time.  

You’re practically trembling by the time he finally leans in, the only thing heard being the sound of each other’s heavy breaths.  It kills you because you think maybe this is another one of his jokes.  Thinking that maybe this time he’s just gonna kiss the tip of your nose, or something infuriating like that.  So when he’s pressing his lips to yours, it takes you a moment to fully register it.  It doesn’t click until both of his hands are holding the sides of your face, deepening the kiss.  When you finally realize, you practically melt against him, pouring every ounce of your yearning into returning the heat of his kisses.   

Nothing about the situation is rushed, you revel in the slow press of his lips against yours, the feeling of his thumb stroking your jaw as he leans into you.  The contrast of the gentle brushes of his lips that quickly turn into deeper presses sends you reeling.  Your breathing speeding up when he starts to tilt his head to work into his kisses.  He always knows when something is too little or too much, knows when to pull away to leave you wanting or when to kiss you so intently it overwhelms your senses.  

His moves become more teasing the longer you spend like this.  He pulls back occasionally to nip at your bottom lip, gently sucking on it as you try and catch your breath.  When your breathing starts to even out slightly he begins pressing little kisses along your jaw.  He doesn’t let you rest for too long before he’s kissing you again, hands sliding from your face to rest in the back pockets of your shorts.  As he cups a handful of your ass, your breath hitches, the feeling of his hands on you making you part your lips in a silent exhale.  He uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, your hands coming up to rest against his chest in an effort to give yourself some stability.  

You’re starting to get greedy now, your hands trailing down his body, just touching and pressing against the muscle.  You notice a change in his kisses, slowly they’re starting to feel hungrier, hands kneading against the soft flesh of your ass.  When your hands reach the bottom of his shirt, you slide your cold fingers under the fabric, feeling the toned skin there.  His waist is so sensitive, your nails dragging along it making him shiver below you.  When you start to feel him harden beneath you it becomes harder to focus, falling out of rhythm with his kisses as your legs tighten around him.  

He grabs your ass again and you unintentionally push your hips forward at the action, grinding against him.  Feeling him groan into the kiss sets something off within you, rocking your hips forward again.  This time he matches the action with a roll of his own hips as his hands hold you steady.  The feeling of it has you pulling away from him, panting into the air as he starts to build a rhythm against you.  He pulls his hands out of your pockets and rest them low on your hips instead, encouraging you to rock against him. 

You risk a glance at him and when you do you see his heavy eyes, his pretty lips swollen and shiny with your combined spit.  A part of you feels cocky, heat burning within you at the thought of that being the result of you.  It makes you feel good enough that you initiate the next kiss, pulling him into you by his shirt collar.  The kisses are sloppy and slightly uncoordinated, both of you struggling to keep up when your focus is clearly elsewhere.  At one particularly good grind you gently lean your head back, staring up at the ceiling as you bask in the feeling.  Wonbin follows you, leaving wet kisses on your throat as he tries to copy the movements.  When you let out a whine he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven.  

He pushes a hand up your shirt, quickly slipping it under your bra and toying with your nipple.  He rolls it between lithe fingers as he watches your reaction, addicted to the way you arch your back to press your chest further into him.  It draws more sounds out of you too, your soft moans now permeating the once quiet atmosphere.  As he tugs on your nipple your movement starts to become more desperate.  You’re starting to become fueled by the achy feeling in your cunt, the wetness becoming uncomfortable as you try and chase the pleasure the best you can.  

Wonbin’s not faring much better either, movements speeding up beneath you in an effort to make the two of you feel good, practically trying to fuck you through your clothes.  When it’s just not enough, he flips your position on the couch, strong arms laying you beneath him as he settles between your legs.  He kisses you again briefly as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.  When he resumes grinding against you the angle makes your brain go numb from the pleasure.  Something about doing everything with clothes on makes this feel so much filthier.  Especially when Wonbin is pushing your shirt up your chest and your bra along with it, your bare chest pressed against his clothed one as he grabs hold of your hips.  

At this angle you’re not gonna last very long, and he can tell.  He sees it in the way you can’t stop tipping your head back, your moans turning into whimpers.  The thought of making you cum in your pants drives him crazy.  He presses a hand by your head to steady himself, grinding as deeply as he can as he bites at your jaw and neck.  

“feels.. good..” 

The way your voice comes out sounds so broken.  If it were another time Wonbin would tease you for it, but in this moment all he can do is gasp against your skin as he nears his high.  He tucks his head into the crevice of your neck as you hold him close, hands tangling in his hair.  His movements start to grow uncoordinated, you doing your best to try and meet him with your own.  You’re almost there when he sinks his teeth into the right side of your neck, shuddering as he lets out a groan.  He fucks his hips against yours as he cums, trying to sink deeper into you despite the fabric barrier.  His hips become twitchy the longer he goes, stuttering against you as you pull at his hair.

The stimulation is starting to be too much for him, making him whine with each push of his hips but he needs to get you there.  He needs to feel you cum against him, despite all the clothes the two of you have on.  When he feels you finally tense up beneath him he doesn’t stop, rolling his hips as deeply as he can as you shake beneath him.  You bring his face up from the crook of your neck, lips desperately trying to find his and when they do, the kiss tastes sweeter than any of the previous ones you’ve shared tonight.  You can barely kiss back but you do the best you can, desperate to have him in every aspect.  

When you finally stop shaking he collapses on top of you, breathing in steady breaths to get yourself to calm down, your orgasm making your mind feel hazy.  His lips find the exposed skin of your neck, leaving small gentle kisses as you play with his hair.  He presses his cheek against you, eyes closing as he decides to speak up, teasing laced in his tone.  

“You could just ask for a kiss next time you know.” 

[aventurineswife]

omg wait u know how aventurine is part of the strategic investment department so like supposedly he's good at maths? ahhhh imagine a high school au where reader is struggling with maths and aven helps them out bc he's already a tutor so why would he not help his partner...but only for a fee 🙂‍↕️ (aka unlimited hugs and kisses for the day). they can just be in the library trying to be quiet as he helps but obviously reader is TIRED of this and wants to leave. aven playfully warns them there will be no affection until they understand the concept (ofc it's a lie but anywayyy 😜). so reader just has to suck it up and then when they finally understand it they lowkey cry in joy, forgetting that they're in the library...disappointing looks from the librarians are embarrassing and reader wants to get out ASAP aventurine chuckles yada yada happy end YAY!

idk if maths is a strong suit for you though so sorry if it isn't 😭 i'm willing to wait for a long time though...heh...((cries over circular motion

Kisses and Calculations

Summary: Struggling with math, you reluctantly accept Aventurine’s tutoring in the library. However, he demands an unusual payment—unlimited hugs and kisses for the day. As you suffer through equations, Aventurine playfully holds affection hostage until you finally understand the concept. Overjoyed, you accidentally yell in the quiet library, earning disapproving stares while Aventurine laughs at your embarrassment. Despite the ordeal, you might not mind his tutoring so much after all.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, High School AU, Fluff, Light Humor, Tutor!Aventurine, Playful Banter, Established Relationship, Slight Embarrassment, Happy Ending.

A/N: Yeah... Math isn’t, and probably never will be, my strong suit. Funny, considering it was in my major.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages and the muffled scratching of pens against paper. You, however, were ready to commit a crime.

“Why is this so difficult?” you groaned under your breath, glaring at the mess of numbers on your worksheet. Math was your mortal enemy, and right now, it was winning.

Across from you, Aventurine smirked, resting his chin on his palm. “Because you’re not focusing, darling. And because math doesn’t respond well to death glares.”

You pouted, dropping your pencil in defeat. “I hate this. I don’t get it.”

He leaned forward, tapping your forehead lightly with the eraser of his own pencil. “And you won’t get it if you keep giving up so easily. Now, what did I say about exponents?”

You huffed but begrudgingly repeated his explanation from earlier. “That you have to multiply the base by itself however many times the exponent says.”

“There you go,” he said, giving you a teasing smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Can I go home now?”

Aventurine clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. “Tsk, tsk, not so fast. I believe we had an agreement.”

You groaned. “Aven—”

“No hugs, no kisses, until you actually solve this problem correctly,” he interrupted smoothly, pointing at the next question with a smirk that was entirely too smug for your liking.

You squinted at him suspiciously. “You’re lying.”

He gasped, a hand over his chest in mock offense. “How could you say that about your ever-so-generous and kind tutor?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Because I know you.”

Aventurine chuckled but didn’t deny it. Instead, he gestured to the worksheet. “Come on, sweetheart. Solve it, and then we’ll see about your reward.”

With a dramatic sigh, you picked up your pencil (or pen) and started working through the equation again, muttering numbers under your breath. Aventurine watched with an amused gleam in his eyes, occasionally correcting your approach with an arched brow or a gentle nudge in the right direction.

And then—it clicked.

Your eyes widened. “Wait.” You scribbled the final answer, double-checking the steps. “Wait.”

Aventurine leaned closer, peeking at your work. “Hmm, let’s see…” He tapped the answer with his pencil, lips curling in approval. “Correct.”

The rush of victory was too much. “OH MY GOD, I DID IT—”

The sharp shushing from the nearby librarian cut through your triumph, and you froze.

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you turned your head, meeting the unimpressed stares of multiple library patrons. Aventurine, unhelpfully, was laughing under his breath, his shoulders shaking with silent amusement.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, sinking into your chair. “We need to leave. Right now.”

Aventurine wiped away a fake tear. “Ah, what a moment. The sheer joy of academic enlightenment.”

You glared at him, grabbing your stuff as fast as humanly possible. “Never again.”

“But you learned something,” he pointed out smugly, following you toward the exit.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not the point.”

Aventurine, ever the opportunist, slipped an arm around your waist as soon as you were safely out of sight of the librarian. “Now, about my payment…”

You sighed, pretending to consider. Then, with a smirk of your own, you reached up and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Fine. But next time, you’re not holding me hostage for math.”

Aventurine chuckled, pulling you closer. “Oh, sweetheart, I make no promises.”

Despite yourself, you laughed. Maybe math tutoring wasn’t so bad after all.

[sillymercury]

Make You See My Crazy

AzrielxReader

<3

Warnings: some slightly sexual themes

Word count: 7.9k

It’s split into parts only bc I can’t stop yapping

Summary: Upon joining the inner circle you expected excitement, movement, enterprise. Instead you were faced with mundane, every day was nearly the same and repetitive motion was killing you. It’s hard sneaking around the person you love but it’s inevitable when they’re the one holding you back.

Part 2 to I’m not the Crazy One, She Is

<3

I thought working with the inner circle would be action packed; missions, fighting, or infiltrating other courts. I imagined myself having serious debriefs with Rhysand and far off adventures with Mor or Azriel. But for the first year and some change it’s just been training. Every. Day.

I guess it was to be expected, I had to be thoroughly prepared; even if what I was being prepared for was the impossible.

Some of the scenarios Azriel would throw at me were absolutely off the wall; like being shrunken down and hidden under a walnut casing, being drugged with hallucinogenic cookies that make the enemy seem like friends, being eaten by a shark? It was deluded. I asked him if any of those things ever happened to him, his answer; “Unimportant. It could happen to you.”

I thought I was flying through training with flying colors, and so did Rhysand and Cassian and Nesta and Gwyn and Feyre and Emerie and Morrigan and Amren and pretty much everyone other than Azriel. He always found something to correct or have a question with no right answer. At first it was funny, but then I mastered the sword, dagger, staff, bow and arrow, and my personal favorite nunchucks. Now it’s just condescending.

The time I wasn’t preparing for the impossible I was working on strengthening my powers with Amren and Nesta. I’ve had control of my abilities for the better part of two centuries but using them for combat was different. I had mostly used them to get what I want, adopting strangers on the streets powers to make my night more interesting. Now I was using people’s own powers against them. My abilities expanded beyond what I ever thought, what I had ever attempted. I can connect with at least 3 people, stealing power from multiple sources. I can also connect over a distance but that’s only for people that I know, if I can envision them in my minds eye and envision their powers I can connect from virtually anywhere.

Ive never felt more powerful, more formidable, more like a force to be reckoned with than since I’ve begun working with the inner circle. But for some reason, a reason that edged my last nerve Azriel didn’t see it.

“I can take on anyone in this godsdamned court and hold my own, but it’s always ‘you’re not ready’ ‘you need more training’ ‘what if something terribly unlikely happens?’” I groaned at I threw myself back onto Nesta and Cassian’s shared bed. The female was perched at the top, legs tucked underneath herself, watching me with a sly expression.

“It’s because he likes you,” Nesta teased, a knowing smile making its way onto her face.

I flipped myself over and bit my bottom lip, failing at controlling my smile. “I know,” I said dreamily, I could feel my face heat as I thought of the shadowsinger. “But that’s another thing, he likes me, I know he does. But he’s also distant, not physically but emotionally. He’s holding back from me and I don’t know why. Like go king! Give me nothing!”

Nesta laughed as she slid onto her stomach as well, face close to mine, “That’s just how these Illyrians are. They only want love if it’s torture.”

I rolled my eyes at her words, “What did you read that in a book or something?”

“Or something,” she smirked and I chuckled at response shaking my head. “I can’t help you with your love sick yet sickeningly distant Az but in terms of putting you in the field; talk to Rhys. Tell him that you feel more than ready to have a mission of your own.”

I groaned, sneaking around Az didn’t feel right. I wanted him to see me, see what I’m capable of and want me by his side. “Okay,” I said while I picked at my nails. I peaked at the female and she gave me a pointed look, “Okay!” This time I spoke with more conviction. Standing up I stamped my foot with my hands on my hips “I am going to talk to him,” I turned my head to glance out the window, night had taken over the sky, “tomorrow morning.”

It was Nestas turn to groan, her face fell into the bed as she shook her head, “Your just as bad as Azriel.”

“Come on. It’s late, he’s probably in bed. Plus last time I went to him this late…” I shuddered. Nesta just laughed, obviously recalling the story of me winnowing into Rhys’ office and seeing my high lord and high lady in a… compromising position. “Alright,” I stretched, “I’m going home, don’t wait for me at training. I’ll see Rhys bright and early!”

Her face held mock conviction as she nodded once. I just laughed and leaned over to press a loving kiss to the females head, “Bye!!!!” I sang as I channeled Rhys from afar and winnowed myself home.

I was offered a room at the House of Wind and I stayed there most nights but I still kept my cottage. With the egregious checks Rhys wrote me every month I could afford my own little castle but this was home. A new fae had moved in next door, a very nice one, and the corner was cozier than ever before. Also with Az away, the house of wind felt… colder; I needed the warmth of my space.

I went through my night routine; stripping the leathers I had grown accustomed to wearing, cleaning my hair and skin, and climbing into bed with a shirt that Azriel definitely knew was missing. As I laid I contemplated what I would say to Rhys, he has said he thought I was ready but he still backed up Azriel. I shook my head, deciding I couldn’t wait until morning.

Rhys, I whispered into his mind. Channeling his power I was able to slip past his barriers, something he was truly disturbed to find out I could do. Rhys, I tried again a little louder when he didn’t answer.

Stop using my power against me, he spoke, frustration clear. I hate when you do that.

I giggled into his mind, finding out that mental barriers don’t work against me was a pleasant surprise for me and a source of grief for Rhys. Powers are connected to emotions so the more passionate I made someone the more control I could take over their magic. I need to talk to you.

It can’t wait? I’m… busy. I knew exactly what he meant and shivered as war flash backs played in my brain.

Ewwww, I ragged. I suppose it can. I turned in my bed, making myself comfy.

The silence didn’t last long, Never mind, Nyx just woke. What do you need Y/n?

I paused, a hundred persuasive and graceful ways to ask came to the forefront but I chose succinctness. I want to go on a mission.

He paused, from inside his mind I could hear the wheels turning but out of respect for his privacy I cast my glance away. Waiting until Az is out of town, are you trying to get me in trouble?

No! I just… I’m ready. There was nothing else to say, I’m ready. I know it, Rhys knows it, everyone in this circle knows it; it’s time for me to prove it.

I heard him click his tongue, thinking of how to deny me nicely. I filled his head with my disappointment, my hurt from being consistently passed over. A sigh was heard, and I felt his conviction break.

Okay, I have an idea. See me in the morning.

I didn’t let my excitement slip into his mind but I’m sure he heard it in my voice, Okay, okay! Perfect. I’ll see you!

I disconnected from him and rolled over, giggling into my pillow and kicking lightly under my blanket. I wondered what Rhys had planned, I tried not to let my imagination get me too excited but as I fell into rest depictions of other courts circled my mind.

-

Azriel landed in the training ring with a swift silence. His leathers were glistening in the sun, clean and shiny. He picked up the habit of cleaning them before returning right around the time you started spending nights in the House of Wind. The thought of you seeing him covered in blood unsettled him, he knew deep down you wouldn’t truly care but he wanted to protect you nonetheless.

His bright eyes scanned the ring; priestesses, Valkyrie’s, and a very loud Cassian controlled the space. No you.

She’s not here, his shadows informed him. Upon further prompting his shadows informed him that you weren’t at home, or with Rhys. His eyebrows knitted with confusion as he continued to glance around. It wouldn’t be the first time you skipped training, he pictured the time he caught you tucked into a high-end dress store when you were meant to be in the ring.

He was prepared to take to the skies, ready to find where you were hiding before his brother cut him off, “Az, honey! Not even a hello?” Cass was walking toward him with a natural ease and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“Hello brother,” was all he offered. His voice was void of emotion but his heart was full, coming home to family was always enjoyable. Especially after spending time in the dark tunnels of the Hewn City, seeing someone with a smile on their face was appreciated.

Cass wrapped strong arms around Az’s shoulders, holding him tight. Azriel just returned the favor with two quick taps on his back under his wings.

“I need to go find Y-“ he didn’t make it through his sentence before Cassian cut him off.

“You need to come see these priestesses,” with an arm around Az’s shoulder he led him further into the ring. “We’ve got six more priestesses picking up swords, we have a little battalion on our hands.”

Az lightly smiled and nodded, letting his brother lead him. He figured you could have the day off, you deserve it. You had been doing amazing, you were a quick learner; swift, light on your feet, and knew how to finish strong. Your fighting coupled with your power, you would be daunting in the felid; when you were ready… when he was ready to let you be ready.

Az knew you would hold your on, connecting to his power you would be the assets he always needed but he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from that part of his life as long as he could.

The better part of the morning and early afternoon were spent with the priestesses. Helping them with their swordsmanship, correcting techniques and giving confidence where it was needed. Cass and Az felt something like pride as the watched the females taking back the power that was stolen from them. With training behind them the boys gathered around the island in the extravagant kitchen, chatting with Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta about the progress being made. You stayed in the back of Azriel’s mind, not being at training and not showing up as the day pushed on. He tried to keep cool about it, you were sensible and strong and he didn’t need to keep you on a leash, but with training 3 hours behind him his hands started to itch at the lack of your presence. His attentive shadows kept him updated, you still weren’t at your house or any of Rhys’.

“So where’s Y/n?” He asked, trying to remain casual as he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the stone island. Lunch had came and went without a word from you. Gwyn’s eyes widened for a fraction of a a second but Emerie quickly pulled her into conversation pertaining to their upcoming book club. Weird.

Nesta just pursed her lips and shrugged coolly, a light shake of her head accompanying the motion. Cassian on the other hand was staring into the tea he that had suddenly became very interesting. That was weirder. If Cass didn’t know he would’ve came up with some witty remark like, ‘she probably found a hot male with emotional maturity’ or ‘she has your account information, probably running you into the ground.’

He stalked a little closer to his brother, Cass just dipped his head further towards his cup. Az bit his cheek, thanking the mother for his brothers inability to keep a secret or produce a good lie.

Az wrapped a wing around his brothers form and dipped down too, “If you put your nose any further into that cup, you’ll drown.”

“Huh? Oh!” Cass laughed as he stood up straighter. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, trying to gain some semblance of confidence. Nesta gave him a look and he turned away quickly, unfortunately for him he turned directly toward Az. The only thing he could do was offer a nervous smile.

Az returned the favor with a saccharine grin, got him. “Where is she Cass?”

“Who?” He asked dumbly. He clenched his fist to keep from slapping his face, he was under the fire of his brothers gaze and he was choking. Az just raised his eyebrows and gave him a pointed look. “Oh, Y/n. Pfft I don’t-“ he tried to do what Nesta did, pout his lips and shrug coolly. He didn’t look cool. “I don’t know. Where is she Nesta?” His voice suddenly carried a faux confusion as he turned to his mate, attempting to take attention off of himself.

Nesta glared, “I. Don’t. Know,” she bit out through gritted teeth. Cass gulped, knowing no matter how this ended he was screwed. He just nodded, humming at her before turning to Az, offering up another lame shrug.

Az looked between the two for a second before glancing over at the other two fae. Their conversation had stopped to take in the scene, at the instant of Azriel’s eyes they quickly turned away and began speaking again.

Az just nodded, the picture of calm. Cassian gulped yet again, he knew he was the weakest link and that Azriel would press him specifically for information. Cassian’s fears were confirmed when the sick smile returned to Az’s face and a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. “Cassian,” Az’s voice was low, slow, “Where is she?” The calmness and gentleness of his words sent a shiver down Cassian’s spine.

“I don’t know, truly,” he was folding. Nesta shook her head before placing it in the arms that were folded across the counter. “She was begging and she wouldn’t let up. Said she was super determined and no wasn’t a viable answer so Rhys caved, sent her on a mission this morning.”

“Good gods,” slipped from Nestas lips. Hand braced on her shaking forehead as she looked into the distance, questioning the mother.

“What?” Az’s grip turned to iron and his brother cringed at the force. He looked between the four in the kitchen, everyone knew. Everyone knew and wanted to keep it from him, if he wasn’t losing his mind he might feel bad.

Nothing else was said, there was nothing left to say, Azriel’s pace was rushed as he pushed through the balcony doors and into the sky.

“Azriel,” Rhys breathed. If the frustration wasn’t clear in his voice, it showed in the way his hands slid down his face.

“Rhys,” he pressed, “I know I just- she just needs more time.” Rhys shook his head at his brothers words, disagreeing. He knew if it were up to Az you would never leave the safety of Velaris. “How would you feel if it was Feyre?” Az’s pushing earned him a growl.

“If you remember, it was Feyre. I had to let her fight far before she was ready. Even so, Y/n is leagues ahead of Feyre.” Az shook his head now, desperately trying to find the words to convince his brother. “If we keep her stagnant any longer the poor female will become destitute.” Azwas quickly becoming hysterical, you meant so much to him and putting you in the line of fire… Hot angry tears pooled on his bottom lash despite his best efforts to keep them at bay, continuing to shake his head as he began clenching his fist. He was fighting so desperately to take control of this situation but Rhys was hard headed and determined to try out his new toy.

“It’s not going to be easy, it will never be easy dealing with the possibility of your mate getting hurt. But if you’re just going to coddle her then what’s the point of bringing her into this circle? She is smart, and strong, let her prove it.”

Az let out a chopped breath. It was his turn to bring his hands to his face, shamefully hiding the tears Rhys was already aware of. He didn’t speak for a moment, pondering. When he brought her in he had to admit he didn’t think of this. He saw it as an excuse to have her close, bring her into the family and keep her around. But after getting close to her, learning her, loving her, he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to keep her hidden from the dark world he had come to know so well. He wished she was offered a different position even though her powers were an amazing defensive and offensive asset; he never wanted to use it.

He shook his head one more time, “I just need more time.” His pleading voice broke and Rhys softened at the sound. All he’s ever wanted for his brother was to feel that earth shattering love like the one he felt for Feyre. How could he tell him those fears were invalid? That they don’t have basis? They’re wrong? He couldn’t and when Az let out one more shaky, “Please, brother,” he couldn’t say no.

Azriel landed in front of the river house with a thud, no shadowy elegance and no preternatural silence. His heightened emotions pushed all of that out of the way to make room for his task; find Rhys, kill Rhys.

He stomped through the house, making his presence and his anger known. He didn’t bother to knock on Rhys’ office door, just blowing it wide open. His high lord sat in his large leather chair while his high lady was perched on the edge of the desk, engaged in loving conversation.

The slamming doors caught their attention as Azriel stopped short of Rhys’ desk, growling his name.

“I figured you’d show up here soon enough, do you have your mission report?” Rhys was calm as he leaned back in his chair, observing Azriel and his pristine leathers and contorted face. Az wanted to stick his eyes and shake Rhys until his head fell off.

“You know that’s not why I’m here,” his voice was low as he struggled to form a sentence and not a fist.

“Oh?” Rhys feigned innocence and Azriel’s grip slipped, fists taking place at his side. “Why are you here then brother?”

A low scoff made its way out, Azriel had to look away to collect the parts of him he could. He didn’t want to play this stupid back and forth game, he wanted to find you. Blowing up on Rhys wouldn’t do anything good for him so he bit out his next words, “My mate. Where is she?”

“Ah, yes.” Rhys just nodded as he continued to look Azriel up and down, sizing how far he could push him. Feyre on the side held a confused face as she tried to decipher the situation. Azriel’s mate? How would Rhys know where she is? A low growl reverberated through Az and his brother just clicked his tongue in response. “She’s fine Az, please-“

Azriel cut him off, walking closer to brace his hands on the desk, “I told you she wasn’t ready. She needed more time to-“

It was Azriel’s turn to get cut off as he held up a hand, “No. You said you weren’t ready. You said you needed time. I gave you time, that times up.”

Az growled again, hands gripping the desk with so much force the wood under his hands groaned. His eyes were wild and his face displayed so much fury Feyre thought he might jump over it and tear into Rhys. “Az…” she said tentatively.

“Did you know?” He looked at her accusingly, not being able to hold his rage back from her. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her heart, her hair slid over her shoulder as she shook it back and forth.

“Know what Az? You found your mate? That’s amazing, I-“ Feyre tried to lighten the mood, choosing to focus on the good parts of the conversation.

Az rolled his eyes away from her and back to his brother. “Yes, I did find her.” His eyes held his brothers in challenge, Rhys didn’t back down but Az would either. “It’s a shame though, Rhys seems adamant on getting her killed.” He leaned in slightly, baring his teeth on the last word.

The thought of you out there, alone, in a potentially dangerous situation made his brain fog. His whole body twitched; desperate to tear apart the entirety of Pyrthian until he found you. Deep down he knew his feelings were irrational, Rhys wouldn’t send you somewhere dangerous for your first mission, solo to boot. He knew that you were fierce in your fighting technique. He knew that the reservoir of powers you could access made you one of, if not the most, powerful fae in Pyrthian. He knew you didn’t need him to protect or guard you and that you wanted this. Knowing all of those things doesn’t make it any easier though.

“She’s not- Az please,” Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, trying to will away the headache his brother was giving him. “Feyre, baby, give us a moment.”

She just nodded, eyes still examining Az as if she’d find her answer written on his face. She leaned into the kiss Rhys placed on her forehead before moseying out of the office. Rhys pushed himself away from the desk and to the large couch in his office. He grabbed two glasses and the decanter off the liquor cart before sitting down. Az watched silently as he poured two neat glasses of whiskey and sipped one while offering the other.

When Az didn’t move he sat the other glass down and stared at it before saying, “She’s in no danger brother. But you might want to have a drink before I tell you where she is.”

Az’s hands returned to fists and he just stared, zeroed in on Rhys like a deadly predator. Rhys rolled his eyes and gestured to the spot on the couch next time, insinuating he wouldn’t speak until Az at least sat down. Begrudgingly he followed his brothers instructions though sitting down didn’t display any comfort as he was still rigid.

Rhys just watched his brother, looking at him as if the right way to inform him of his mate’s whereabouts would be written on his skin somewhere. The stare only unnerved Az, his skin started to prickle at the attention he was receiving and his vague patience was slipping.

He took a deep breath before grabbing the drink, downing it in one go. It didn’t help his nerves but he let out a sigh anyway before turning back, “Where is she?” His voice was calmer now, the anger was replaced with desperation, exhaustion.

Rhys let out a sigh too, leaning back he stared for a moment longer. “She’s in the day court, where she will remain for the next month and a half.” Az’s eyes widened and with furrowed eyebrows he insisted Rhys go on, “After that she will spend a month and a half in dawn, then winter, summer, and possibly autumn. I’ve spoken with Eris but I’m not entirely sure if we’ll be able to slip her in past Beron.”

Az shook his head, trying to grasp the information being given to him. “Wait you sent her through the courts? For the next 8 months? Why?”

“More training,” he leveled a look at Az whose face still displayed confusion. “Apparently what we’re doing here isn’t enough, so she will train with our closest allies. Learn all new powers along the way and techniques even we don’t have. By the time she comes back, even you will think she’s ready.”

Azriel shot up, hands coming to slide down his face has he passed around the low table. You were gone? For potentially 7.5 months? This was wrong, so so wrong. You should be here, by his side where he can see to it that you get the training you need. The thought of someone else, potentially another male, training you… his skin felt hot to the touch.

“Rhys! I don’t- what do you mean?” He stopped pacing in front of his brother, he wanted to scream, tear him a new one but he felt too manic to focus on that now. “So she’s just gone? For months?! I don’t- how could you do this!”

Rhys poured Az another glass as he spoke, “What was I supposed to do Az? You were safe guarding her to the point it was damn near suffocating. She just wanted to do something, to feel like her time was productive-“

“It was productive!” Az cut in, “She was with me! I was training her! Sending her away like that- what if someone finds about her powers? Do you know what other courts would do to get their hands on her?!”

“Yes Az,” Rhys spoke in a tried tone, being able to tell this conversation wasn’t going to cool down anytime soon. “She knows, she’s safe guarding her powers. She won’t use them in training, just learning other courts techniques and studying their powers to bring back here and implement.”

Az scoffed and shook his head, resuming his pacing. He wasn’t convinced, there was worry and anger, and longing taking up all the space for rationality. “She just wanted to get out there, you know she’s never left Velaris?”

Az’s eyes flew to Rhys’ at the question. “Of course I know,” he bit out. He knew everything about you, everything you were willing to offer him. Late nights spent in your room- at a respectful distance- gave way to room for life stories. You indulged in your early life, family, friends, love history, hobbies, likes and dislikes. He kept it all stored away in meticulous detail, committing everything you’ve ever said to him in perfect memory. You vulnerability inspired him, encouraged him to do the same and bare his soul to you. He told you everything, except for one, or maybe two things. He was safe guarding the bond, not wanting it to influence your decision. He wanted you to choose him because you wanted to choose him, not because you thought you had too.

Rhys hummed, nodding. “Well, she wasn’t going to stop until I gave her something. She’s safe and she’s happy and she’ll be back in no time.”

Azriel rolled his eyes at his brothers hypocrisy, he would be beside himself if Feyre left for that long. He moved toward the door with determination, he was going to find you. He needed to tell you that he was sorry, you didn’t have to run or sneak behind his back. He would tell you what he knew was true and promise not to hold you back anymore. “No you won’t,” Rhys cleaved through his thoughts. “One visitation permit was issued from the courts, Im sure they wouldn’t appreciate my spy sleuthing around. Not to mention how she’d feel about it.”

Az growled at that, cutting his brother a loathsome glare before slamming the doors once again behind him. Rhys just sighed, leaning back and polishing off the drink Az didn’t finish.

-

No time, that was bullshit. The months passed like years and Azriel swears he could’ve lived multiple lives in the time you were gone. He wasn’t himself, out of step, out of sync. It was kinda crazy, he lived so long without you and after just a few hours of knowing you were gone he reverted to a shell of himself.

Some days he barely tried to train, moving through the sessions like a phantom. Other days he laid his hurt bare, taking it out on Cassian until his brother had to tell him ‘no more.’

Work wasn’t able to distract him, he had been on one mission since your departure. Rhys refused to let him go, claiming he was too frazzled to focused. Despite knowing its truth Az tried to disagree, he ended up losing train of thought half way through the conversation, proving Rhys’ point.

You had sent letters, 3 came at least twice a month. One to Rhys, giving updates on where she was and how training was going. One to Nesta, the two had grown close in her time training with the inner circle. One to Azriel, it was similar to Rhys’, she was giving life updates and telling him wonderful stories. Azriel wanted to answer, truly, but the longer he thought the more he realized he had nothing to say. You were having so much fun, meeting wonderful people, exploring new powers, and seeing Pyrthian like you always wanted. He was ashamed by the fact that if it was up to him, you wouldn’t have gone. He sat down to write how sorry he was, how excited for you he was, how he wished he could see it all with you but his letters only made it as far as the fire. He was convinced you were angry with him, that’s why you left while he was gone. He read and reread every letter so much they were a crumpled mess in his hands, some terrible part of him convinced him they were pity letters. His fears were “confirmed” when his letters stopped halfway through the third month.

He was a bit surprised when around the middle of the fourth month he felt talons tapping on his mental shield, far more polite that Rhys has ever been. He opened his shield just enough to let you in, not far enough for anything other than communication.

Hi Azriel, your voice rang through him like a church bell. He shivered at the pleasant invasion, unwittingly letting the rest of his walls down from you. His subconscious wanted you everywhere, invading every part of him, committing all of him to memory.

Hello, Y/n. He hated how timid his voice sounded. But he couldn’t help it, talking to you made him nervous, especially after ghosting your letters.

He heard you sigh into his mind and he couldn’t help himself but duplicate the sound. Hearing your voice, feeling your essence, provided much needed relief.

I’ve missed you, he spoke in his mind. The words came out as a soft whisper, tentative and unsure.

Yea? I could tell by the way you ignored all my letters. He cringed at your words, your tone was joking but he didn’t miss the thinly veiled frustration. He was silent; not sure how to respond or if he even could. His remorse flooded his head and you surely caught on, based on the way you quickly spoke again. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have-

No, he cut you off. You’re right, I should’ve responded. I just wasn’t- I didn’t know what to say. I was- I still am ashamed.

It was your turn to be silent. If he stilled his mind he swears he could feel you nodding. Your questioning voice came through, You think I shouldn’t have gone?

I thought that. But I’ve read your letters, the ones to me and the ones Rhys gave me access too. Your progress is… you couldn’t have achieved what you are now if I kept you hidden.

You were silent, Azriel could feel the contemplation. After a couple beats you spoke again. I’m sorry.

Don’t apologize, ever.

You waited before speaking again, But I am sorry. It felt wrong leaving the way I did, like I was sneaking behind your back. I didn’t even get to tell you goodbye.

Azriel chuckled lightly out loud. It’s a good thing though, I probably wouldn’t have let you go.

Oh yeah? You laugh. What would you have done? Restrain me? Your voice held a playful edge that excited something in Azriel. The lower end of his stomach began to twist and he had to control himself with you still in his mind.

It was his shadows that spoke next, let her see. Their encouragement drew back the curtain of self control and he opened his mind deeper for you. He let you into the fantasies of restraining you with his shadows. Covering your vision with wisps of darkness, blurring your senses to ensure touch was heightened.

He showed you how he would be slow, take his time with you. How he would push your body to absolute extremities, take you to your peak over and over before cradling your exhausted body. You were silent as you witnessed his eagerness, his willingness to give you all the pleasure your body could handle. He heard you let loose a breath, If I knew that’s what you’d do to me I would’ve left a lot sooner.

A dry chuckle left Az’s lips, Then perhaps your punishment should be to withhold such treatment. His smirk was evident in his voice, and you gasped out a laugh at the mention of what had become an inside joke.

You’re a tease! You shrieked down the mental bond and Azriel laughed freely.

Az stayed connected with you late into the night, speaking of pretty much anything under the sun, or in this case the moon. He talked until your voice slowed down and became soft hums of acknowledgment. Eventually your presence in his mind was peaceful, calm; the proof of your sleep

-

3 weeks.

10 days.

4 hours.

15 minutes.

The time that had dragged its feet through sand was now moving at a lively pace. It was by no means quick, you had still taken your time coming back. But with daily mental communication, daily mental flirtation, having only minutes between the two of you Azriel felt his skin buzz. His wings moved on their own, display his anticipation for the world.

Az had woken up early… earlier than usual. The sun was teasing the horizon, threatening to spill its light across the mostly sleeping city. Azriel couldn’t help the coy smile as he greeted the morning happily. Little tasks had kept his body busy as his brain counted down the minutes of your arrival. Shower, train, shower again, morning flight, cleaning, bureaucratic busy work, trip to the shops, following Cassian around for a couple hours. Azriel couldn’t sit down, if he did his leg would bounce and he would be up again in seconds.

But here he was, smoothing the already smooth leathers as he waited “casually” in the greeting room of the river house. He had cleaned up your room in the HoW when you left but he took to dusting it, changing your sheets, and adding fresh and fragrant flowers to liven up the space.

5 minutes, his shadows whispered as they danced around his ears. They reflected their masters eagerness, also unable to sit still and be patient.

You hadn’t connected with him today, most likely too busy getting your affairs in order. Azriel didn’t mind though, it added to his anticipation. For the first time in what could be ever he felt like a kid, bouncing around the room with an insatiable excitement brewing below.

Azriel rubbed his rough hands together and made eye contact with his shoes, a heavy breath left his lips and suddenly it felt stagnant. Everything stopped.

Seconds turned to hours as his head turned upwards. For a moment everything stoped, the world was lost to Azriel as he finally saw you. The sounds of the room became slow and muffled and the only sound was a soft song. A light airy melody, a beautiful blend of bells and chimes. A sweet sound made only by your presence.

The air finally left his mouth and the world returned to normal, time picked up and everything was moving again. The shadows that carried you in dissipated and the ground shook with the bellows of his family.

Cassian was first to reach you, spinning you around like a doll. He barely has time to put you down before Nesta latched on and mumbled something only you could hear. Feyre greeted you with a smile and open arms, Rhys extended a hand that you took firmly. Elaine and Amren gave welcome to your presence and suddenly it was Arziel’s turn. Even his shadows beat him to you, circling every inch- noting every tiny change within you, all the things that didn’t show though your voice in his mind every night. The lines created from muscle, the natural lightness added to your hair that only comes from saltwater and direct sunlight, the clear and unmistakable scent of raw power. Every little thing was reported back to him, the way each minuscule movement of yours was silent, the advanced lightness of each step that brought you closer, the disciplined posture you now carried. Then there was the perceptive glint in your eye, one that seemed to bore into his skin, one that traced every cell and tendon in his biology; tracking his synapses and learning his bones. One that tore apart his soul and memorized it.

“Azriel,” Your greeting was clean and simple; and it almost brought him to his knees. He steadied himself with a breath and clenched the fists that wanted to reach for you. Not yet. Not here.

“Welcome home Y/n,” all the courage that made a warrior was used as he held your eyes. You were still you, still the same female he devoted each waking thought to. But you now held an edge, a deadly aura that put even him off. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned.”

You smiled, all of your venom hidden behind perfect, pearly structures. “I can’t wait to show you.”

Your long awaited return was celebrated with dinner, drinks, and the promise of putting your skills to the test at first light. You celebrated and mingled, held your drink dutifully but didn’t take a single sip. Your months of watching your own back and the crippling paranoia that you would be made kept you from inebriation. Not to mention you wanted to be at your best when you displayed yourself. You casually turned in early, leaving the festivities to the ones who actually indulged. You took to setting your room up in a way only self preservation would justify. Weapons were hidden all around your space, a habit from being in enemy territory with no back up. You had to be ready for anything at any time, being caught off guard would be the difference between life and death. Once you felt confident in your new arrangements you climbed into bed, channeling Azriel’s shadows to watch you in your sleep.

-

I awoke before the sun, prepping myself in fighting leathers and a clean hairstyle. My go bag was packed and placed at the foot of the bed where it could be grabbed on the way out. It was full of all the weapons I had grown accustomed to using. Most of it was basic, knives, sabers, and folding spears. There were also more elaborate weapons unique to the courts I spent time in; light directors, specific for centralizing the power of light from the day court. Loch detonators, a device that turns powered water into intense explosives. The collection was impressive but most of it would prove to be useless today, I planned on taking the boys in hand-to-hand combat.

I pushed open the window of my room before climbing out. Scaling the monstrous house, I jumped and grabbed all the edges that would lead me to the roof. The roof was hipped into a long line, on that I ascend and landed at the apex. One foot balanced on the line while the other crossed over my bent knee. My hands stretched out on either side, keeping my center of gravity directly over the line.

The cold dusk air heightened every sense as I let loose. Thoughts escaped as my perfectly poised body found peace, my steady breath the only tether to the earth. With my mind clear and body at ease I was able to connect with every part of myself, honing every part of me for battle. After an hour of meditation I stood up and began to move. To any onlooker it would look like I’m dancing on the roof not partaking in an ancient practice of energetic redirection. I came across the art of Tai Chi in my time spent in the summer court, a friend I had made took me to her village on the southern edge and though it is a closed practice one of the elders agreed to teach the basics. I had also managed to find some scrolls on the subject in Helion’s vast library and continued my training. Now it was part of my daily exercise; balance my mind, body, and energy.

Nearly two hours and passed before I left the roof, opting to winnow in and grab my bag before making my way to the training ring. Cassian and Az were there, preparing for the day with calisthenics.

“Good morning angel,” Cassian greeted with the trademark smile that comes before saying something stupid. “Done dancing on the roof?”

I looked to your feet as a smile creeped onto my face, “Yea, ready to dance with you now.”

“Ohh, we’ll see about that,” Cassian’s face was smug but I kept smiling nonetheless. It made sense, he had no reason not to be. He’s perfectly unaware of what I’ve learned and what I’ve taught myself. Azriel on the other had looked calculating, like he was trying to note all the ways I’ve changed. His gaze was piercing, like he could figure out all I’ve learned just by looking at me. He knows all of my experiences, everywhere I was at any given time but my training was not something we had discussed in detail.

“What about you Azriel?” I tilted your head as I looked him up and down. Blatant and greedy, not even trying to hide my hunger. He had opted to train shirtless this morning, something whispered that it was a subtly attempt to distract me. “You ready to dance with me?”

Azriel smirked, stalking closer as he continued to tape his knuckles. “Hmph,” he matched my actions, eyes taking over the way your lean body contorted under my leathers. “I was born ready for you.”

I felt my body rise a hundred degrees and his words and gaze, I wanted to jump on him the same way I did in our shared visions. But I kept my composure, he was trying to rile me up. “I sure hope you mean that.” one finger made its way to his arm, tracing the tattoos there until it met the glove on his hand. I grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, kissing his knuckles in a light teasing fashion. His nostrils flared as I looked up at him through l lashes. “Because Id want nothing more than a go at you.”

He opened his mouth but was cut off by his brother, “Good morning! I hope you’re all ready because I know I am.” Rhys strolled over with Feyre, Amren, and Mor in tow. He rubbed his hands together in a gesture that showed excitement before shoving them in his pockets.

“I hope you’re ready for a show,” Cass spoke as he stretched one last time, “Y/n plans to dance.” I just smiled in response, Rhys raised a brow and his eyes shone. He was the one receiving daily briefings. I had connected with him and let him see some of my work through my eyes. Some. The rest I kept safeguarded, waiting until this moment to show them off. Since I were essentially stealing the powers I was exposed to I didn’t have anyone to train me in their use, normally that would put me at a disadvantage but Rhys changed my outlook on that. Since I hadn’t been taught how to use them I was never put in a box, never limited to what everyone else thought was possible. I could experiment with the powers I encountered, come up with my own ways to use them, and create different techniques than those normally seen. The magic belonged to others but when I used them, the powers were wholly mine.

“Okay Y/n, who do you want to dance with first? Cassian or Azriel?” Rhys asked, the knowingly look on his face was obvious. He knew what I would say, and I wasn’t in the mood to disappoint.

“Aww, I can’t have both?” I pouted lightly, turning from Rhys to the other parts of the trio, “I’ve always wanted to take on brothers.” The tease in my voice lit a double meaning behind the words. Cass snorted and Az just ducked his head and shook it side to side, even so I could still see the small smile on his lips.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Cass said clasping his hands, “I’m in the wish granting business sweetheart.” I just nodded simply as I pursed my lips, looking them up and down once more before grabbing my bag and heading to the far end of the ring. As I was wrapping my own knuckles Nesta came over with a water bottle meant for me.

“Thanks honey,” I smiled as I took the water. “Promise you won’t hate me if I bang your mate up a bit?”

Nesta laughed, “Hate you? Baby I’ll thank you. That male needs humbled.” We both chuckled at that statement as I finished with my hands. “What weapon are you going to use?” Nesta asked as I shuffled around my bag. I hummed before pulling out a small fan and sheath to keep it in. The fan looked like any other handheld fan except instead of fabric it was made of metal that weren’t fixed, meaning they could move if struck. “This,” I smiled, strapping the fan to the outside of my thigh.

“Just that?” Nesta questioned, I nodded in response. Honestly it was a lie, I had no plans to use the fan, at least not as a weapon. I pulled it for show, it would be decoy used to distract and throw off the boys. The fan wasn’t wholly useless though, I picked up different ways to turn it into a weapon when wielded skillfully. It would be too cocky to walk in there with absolutely nothing and as much as I wanted to, I knew Cass wouldn’t recover from the ego hit he would take if I acted like I knew I could beat him with my bare hands; even if that was the plan. She tilted her head before humming as well, “What exactly did you learn out there?”

I just smiled, “I can show you better than I can tell you.” I winking before turning away from her, facing the ring to show that I was ready. I heard a whoop sound come from my friend as she made her way over to join the rest of the peanut gallery.

Cassian had chosen twin broad swords, something that would look comical in the hands of a human looked normal with the giant fae. Az had nothing in his hands but there were multiple daggers lining his pants, still no shirt. I would make sure he regretted that.

“Alright,” Rhys said bringing attention to himself “no need for idle chatter or pointless speeches, begin!”

And with that I stepped completely into the ring, focus trained on the warriors in front of me as the rest of the world disappeared. I couldn’t stop the dangerous smirk that snuck onto my lips, “Let’s dance.”

A/n: don’t hate me!!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to update. I was waking up at 12 then working from 3-11 and crashing when I got home. I work on a crisis unit so that shit is madddd draining, emotionally and physically. I felt like I had nothing left to put into my writing :/ but I finally switched to 3rd shift and for nearly my entire shift I don’t have to do anything but be there so I can write at work and I have more of my day open to relax and recharge. I’m sorry I had to split this into 3 parts but this just got so long and if I would’ve kept writing it would’ve straight up been a book. But I promise part 3 will not take as long to come out. Maybe not this weekend but soon! Anyways if you made it this far I LOVE YOU, thank you so much for giving me and my stories your time :)

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