#I like to write happy things once in a while

[ktownshizzle]

Pigments & Playlists [Final] | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Between makeup and music, you find the one person worth blurring the lines for. ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluffy coworkers to lovers, idol au, older woman (by a few years), smut ✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, Undercut Yoongi!!, MC-noona is the embodiment of “independent check, got her own check”, office shenanigans as always, exhibitionist kink, fingering, edging, very minor pain kink, use of a blindfold, power play (im new to writing this so pls forgive any errors), unprotected p in v, idk tell me if i missed any of it, unfair/sexist HR practices, insinuation of self-harm (assumed wrongly), MC hatin’ on HYBE, happy ending woohoo ✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 9k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: June 21, 2025 ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Yoongi’s discharge today. So proud of you, baby! 💜 Thank you so much @tea4sykes for your brilliant ideas, betareading, and basically keeping me motivated in writing this! Love yew! ✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes 2: Hope you guys enjoy reading this~ Made it a personal goal to publish today, because I didn't know how June 21 was gonna go for us, but I was sure it was going to be emotional. Consider this a gift from me to you. However you may be feeling today, I hope this makes you smile.

[Full taglist to follow in rbs.]

Part One | Yoongi Masterlist

So Yoongi disappeared after he did that. Frankly, how dare he?!

Way too many thoughts swirling in your head while you lay awake and there is no way you’ll be able to sleep.

Your arm flies across the bed as your hand pulls your nightstand drawer and fumbles inside for the one thing you need to help yourself relax…

Nah. Not the rabbit.

Tiger Balm.

You dab a bit on your temples and the tip of your nose and inhale deeply, letting the menthol work its magic. Yup. That’s the stuff.

Unfortunately, you’ve been staring at the ceiling for an hour, heart thudding like something’s wrong. Except nothing’s wrong. You kissed. That’s all.

You kissed and now you’re thinking about it way too much. Not because it was bad. Because it was… something.

And because the more you think about it, the more it’s starting to scare you how much you need it to happen again.

You sigh. Rub at the menthol on your nose, frustrated it didn’t thwart your torturous thoughts.

And then you do the logical thing. You call.

It rings once. Twice.

“...Noona?”

His voice is low, a little scratchy. Not groggy, just sleep-warm.

You swallow. “Sorry. I know it’s late.”

“Nah it’s fine,” he says. “You okay?”

You hesitate. “Kind of.”

There’s a pause. He doesn’t fill it. Just waits.

You exhale, quiet. “Remember when you said I could call you if I couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t about my ex though,” you say.

“Okay.”

“It’s about you.”

That makes him hum. You hear the faint rustle of his sheets, like he’s sitting up.

“Me?”

“Own up to what you did.”

Faint chuckles crackle through your phone and you can almost imagine how he looks. Eyes like the moon, shoulders bobbing, grin smug as shit.

“What did I do?”

You groan, tack his name at the end of it.

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he says after a beat. “Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know yet,” you reply. “It makes me anxious.”

He hums softly. “Because?”

“Because I liked it,” you say. “And I kinda hate how much I’m thinking about it. And you’re probably chill.”

There’s a long silence.

Then he says, calm and careful: “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Thought you don’t date coworkers.”

“And then there’s you.”

You let out a huff—relieved, breathy, kinda giddy. “That’s… okay.”

“Yeah.” 

You sit up in bed, pulling your knees in.

“I was gonna wait,” you admit. “To see if you’d make the next move. But then I figured that’s dumb. I’m not a teenager.”

“No. You’re definitely not.”

“You don’t mind it?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m older?” You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see.

“Noona,” he breathes. “I’m not really someone who cares about things like that. At the end of the day aren’t we all just human beings trying to find a connection?”

God this man. Your mouth moves before you can think about it any more. “If you’re not too busy… you wanna come over sometime?”

There’s a pause. Just enough to make your stomach flip.

 “Noona,” he says, teasing, “are you asking me on a…”

“Yes, Yoongi,” you cut in. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

He laughs. Really laughs. Low and bright and warm through the speaker. You want to bottle that sound.

“Technically, I did ask first,” he says. “But yeah. I’ll come over.”

You kick your feet under the duvet before replying, “Okay.”

You talk more.

About nothing. About music. About how Namjoon’s on his ass about a song. About how he’s been working out. You tease him mercilessly about how he just casually dropped the last part.

At some point, the sky turns blue.

When you finally hang up, your body feels softer, a little less anxious. And when you fall asleep, it’s his cute throaty laugh still echoing in your head.

“Yoongi, will you please stop making that face? I’m trying to even out your eyeliner,” you scold, trying not to laugh.

Yoongi, the piece of shit, still keeps at his :] while you skim a q-tip along the outer corner of his eye.

“Yoongi-hyung, why are you acting cutely?” Hobi asks from the next chair. “Are we even filming right now?”

A flush creeps up Yoongi’s cheeks as he responds, mock indignant, “What? This is my face. Not my fault I was born cute.”

You meet Hobi’s eyes in the mirror. Then, he winks. You immediately look away, vaguely mortified.

Wait—does everybody know?

Trying to recover, you boop your powder puff on Yoongi’s nose, sending a cloud of setting powder into the air. “Quit it.”

He coughs once, laughing as the puff drops to his lap. Okay shit, good thing he is wearing khaki slacks and not black pants. But finally, he relaxes.

“Noona, you have a Rejuran appointment later,” Jimin chimes in.

Your head snaps up. “What? How did you…?”

Jimin grins from across the room, eyes glued to your phone screen where it’s charging in one of the other stations. Your sockets were full, so you left it there earlier and a calendar alert must’ve popped up.

“You’re so nosy, Jimin.”

“What’s Rejuran?” Hobi asks, peering over with mild curiosity. “I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“It’s just a kind of facial,” you say breezily, catching Hyein’s knowing glance as she smooths Hobi’s hair with her Dyson. These boys don’t need to know your anti-aging secrets.

“They inject salmon sperm into noona’s face,” Jimin announces with a totally straight face, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Salmon what?!” Yoongi blurts, snapping his head up to look at you. Hobi recoils with a horrified grimace.

“Park Jimin, when I catch you—!”

Jimin squeals and ducks behind a rack of stage outfits as you toss a blending sponge in his direction, trying not to laugh yourself.

The commotion dies down, and you go back to packing up your powders, muttering under your breath, “It’s not even that weird. Just some polynucleotides. Helps stimulate collagen. Keeps the wrinkles at bay.”

Hobi raises a brow. “I don’t see wrinkles, noona.”

“Exactly.” Now it’s you who sends him a wink back.

Yoongi lets out a low chuckle. You glance at him and catch him typing something into his Notes app. Thankfully everyone goes back to their own damn business.

A second later, Yoongi tilts the screen toward you just enough for you to read it: Friday night?

Your hand holding a brush freezes for half a second over his cheek.

He’s already looking away like he didn’t just casually drop that invite.

“Okay,” you mumble softly under your breath.

The lilt of his lips tells you he heard it anyway.

The door buzzes. You’ve been so chill all day. Still chill. You're chill. (No, you’re not.) You rush to open the door before you make him wait too long.

Yoongi looks… casual. Just a black sweater layered over a gray tee, soft black pants. Hair tucked neatly under a beanie. He looks like your neighborhood ahjussi.

“Noona,” he says, voice muffled behind a white face mask.

“Wow. You’re on time.”

“I try to impress on the first date.”

You try not to smile too big, but fail.

He takes his mask off and hands you a small paper bag. “Dessert.”

You peek inside. Cream puffs from that place in Sinsa-dong that always sells out by 3 PM. “Did you have to bribe someone for these?”

“I have my ways.”

Dinner is simple, something you can make with your eyes closed. Miso salmon, cilantro lime rice, and a cucumber salad. You make this at least twice a month. You could’ve cooked steak or some grilled chops, something that gave a more date-night vibe, but you wanted to make the menu fool-proof.

You eat at the kitchen counter with his insistence, saying you didn’t need to set the dining table all fancy. (“It’s just me.”) So you sit close together on your bar stools, knees almost brushing. He clears his plate like it’s the best thing he’s eaten. You beam.

“Noona, this is really good,” he says, tapping a napkin against his mouth.

You smirk. “Better than Jungkook’s?”

He slides an arm on the backrest of your chair. “Are you as competitive as the maknae?”

“I’m just playing.” You chuckle. “I know mine’s better.”

He smiles, watching you quietly but intently as you sip your wine.

“What?” you ask, his stare is warming the side of your face.

“Just... haven’t done this in a while.”

“Eaten?”

“No.” He tuts, picks up his wine glass and sips before explaining, “Sat with someone like this. Them cooking for me. In their home. Talking.”

Your stomach dips. Not from nerves this time. From the way he admits it. Simple. Open.

You shrug, keeping it light. “Well. You’ve still got it.”

“Got what?”

“You know… the kids call it rizz.”

He laughs heartily, and you feel his fingers curling against your arm. “Was worried I might’ve lost my… rizz.” He overenunciates the last word, his lisp decorating the edge of the sound.

You raise your brow, not buying it. “Liar.”

He bites his lower lip and shakes his head at you. Your eyes track the way his pretty teeth sink against the pink plush and ugh. Again with this rizz.

After dishes are rinsed and placed in the dishwasher and dessert’s split between bites and laughter, the two of you end up on the couch. His arm stretched along the backrest yet again, just shy of your shoulder. Your head tilted toward his, but not touching, even if you wanted to.

There’s some Netflix movie playing in the background, purely for vibes. Neither of you are really watching. You talk about work. Gossip a bit. He asks about that corner shelf in your living room, the one with the knick knacks. You tell him stories about your travels, touring with Seventeen. He says you have the same lucky cat figurine from Hong Kong.

You try not to let his voice get under your skin. It’s different hearing his warm, caramelly tone when you’re not otherwise occupied with evening out his contour or with the buzz of a hair dryer in the background. It’s criminal how smooth it is when it’s all you need to focus on, even more so when he’s being earnest.

He glances at your hand resting on his thigh. (How did it get there???) Then up at your face. You nod before your brain realizes that he in fact did not ask a question.

But then he leans in and all thoughts fly out the window. His lips taste like vanilla cream and maybe the wine you shared earlier. It’s sweet. Even better than the first one because you’re ready for it.

You shift closer, hands finding their way to the hem of his sweater, thumbs brushing warm skin underneath. His breath catches a little. And then his fingers are trailing up your arm, until they settle gently on your jaw. His thumb presses against your cheek, coaxing your mouth open so he can press his tongue against yours. You feel dizzy with want.

His hands stay respectful, never wandering too far. Just the faint brush against the back of your neck, the side of your thigh. But every press of his calloused fingers leaves a quiet, contained fire in its wake. You need more.

You move closer, straddling his lap, never breaking contact with his mouth. He kisses you deeper, sloppier when your weight settles against him. His tongue licks into your mouth expertly and you welcome it. It teases you long enough to make you wonder how it might feel in other places, too. 

Like butter, you're melting, unraveling as his hands find more courage—one sliding up, pausing at your ribs, then higher to cup your tits. He groans into your mouth and it nearly ruins you. You roll your hips forward, barely a grind, just enough to feel him straining between you. Just enough to hear him groan again. 

You make out for what feels like an eternity. But you think you’re both on the same page, when your mouths move a little slower, softer. Air starts to seep between your lips as you retreat. You’re somewhere between wanting more and knowing it’s not time. Not yet. But god, it’s close.

Eventually, he leans his forehead against your shoulder, both of you breathless–maybe a little embarrassed.

“I should probably go,” he murmurs, even as he hugs you tighter at the waist.

“Probably,” you sigh, his undercut grazing your neck and igniting a dull, sweet tickle.

You stay like that for a moment, sharing the soft beat of your hearts as they slow back to normal.

He finally rises, slipping back into his white sneakers as you walk him to the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” he says, lingering by the frame.

“Thanks for coming,” you reply, fingers tightening on the knob as you hold it open.

“Next time, my place?”

“Already booking that second date?”

He pulls his mask on, but not before you catch the shy grin he tries to hide.

“I’ll bring dessert,” you offer.

“Just bring yourself. “ he says, gaze flicking down your body, before settling back on your eyes.

Oh. You are the dessert.

And this time, when the door clicks shut behind him, your heart isn’t racing from confusion. It’s welcoming the slow bloom of potential.

You: Thank you for dropping off coffee and donuts for the team Yoongi: 👌

Yoongi: finished it one sitting You: what? You: i got you 10 pcs 🍊 Yoongi: and? You: you dont get acidic? Yoongi: it’s my favorite!! You: i noticed

Yoongi: [spotify playlist link] You: hey dj suga Yoongi: thought you might like You: listened to it on the drive home Yoongi: favorite track? You: musiq soulchild - just friends Yoongi: me too

It’s not like there was a talk. No formal check-in or DTR. But somehow, as the weeks pass, the rhythm between you and Yoongi settles into something steady. There’s no pressure. No constant push for reassurance. No need to define what already feels known.

You see him constantly at work—during rehearsals, music shows, brand shoots. He’s not overly affectionate, that’s just not him. But there are moments. The way his fingers graze yours when no one’s looking. The way his eyes seek you out as soon as he walks in. The way he’ll shift his chair an inch closer when you’re touching up his base, so your knees knock just enough.

He really makes this whole thing feel easy. Comfortable in a way that still thrills you. Because what can be more thrilling at this point in your life than to finally meet somebody that makes you feel vibrant.

What surprises you most is how little insecurity you feel. You’ve seen how people look at him—the other makeup artists, stylists, managers, external clients. There’s something magnetic about him that draws attention without trying. You’ve clocked it. But Yoongi has a way of making sure you never wonder.

It’s in the way he says your name. How his eyes soften when he talks to you. How he remembers the little things. The tea you like. The one concealer you always complain about running out of. Sometimes you find a sticky note in your kit. Or a box of snacks with your name scribbled on it. Just things that say: I see you. You’re on my mind.

And then there are the others. The rest of Bangtan.

It’s a choreography video shoot day, which always means chaos. Full glam’s not required since most shots are wide, so it’s just you and Hwapyeong handling light touch-ups.

You’re finishing Yoongi’s concealer when Jungkook suddenly rests his chin on your shoulder. “Noona, if I promise to sit still, can I go next?”

Before you can answer, Jimin appears behind him. “She’s doing me next. I called dibs.”

“Not how dibs works,” Jungkook pulls back his arm for a mock-punch and Jimin clutches his heart, rattling off a litany of how Jungkook wounds him.

“Hajimaaa,” Yoongi gives them all a staredown. 

But then from across the room, Taehyung yells, “Noona, help! My concealer’s making me look gray!”

“AISH!” Yoongi snarls with his non-existent fangs. It’s not even menacing. You know now that his canines are blunt. But he tries, so you giggle.

Jin comes to your rescue. “Why are all of you crowding her? You never even get your faces done for choreo. Fuck off,” Then, sweetly, “Hi noona, just a dab of lip balm, please.”

“HYUNG!” Jungkook giggles as he shoves his elder playfully away from you and they continue to horseplay elsewhere.

Yoongi turns slowly to Jimin and Taehyung, unimpressed. “Why are you still here?”

“Because she’s nice to us,” Jimin says, fluttering his lashes at you with zero shame.

“Because we love her more than you do,” Taehyung declares with a shit-eating grin.

That gets Yoongi to raise a brow.

“Okay, enough,” you laugh, pointing your brush like a weapon. “If you want me to do all your faces, line up like kindergarteners and bring me coffee.”

“Done,” Taehyung shoots up immediately.

When they disperse to bother other members of the staff, you catch Yoongi watching you through the mirror.

“I think…” you murmur as you smooth out the edge of his eye shadow, “I just got myself a new set of boys.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way his smile lingers tells you everything.

When he stands up to finally let one of the maknaes take his spot, he whispers, “For the record, I called dibs.” Then pinches your hip slightly.

You’re still grinning when Jimin plops into the chair and narrows his eyes at you. Eye-smiling. Suspicious. Rightly so.

You: check your studio door Yoongi: ? Yoongi: why Yoongi: what did you do You: just do it

(three minutes later)

Yoongi: you cooked? You: 👩‍🍳 Yoongi: you even packed utensils?? You: i’m considerate Yoongi: shit you the best You: i know you’re busy but now you don’t have an excuse Yoongi: you tryna wife me up huh? You: idiot Yoongi: cmere eat with me You: i have a thing You: meeting a makeup artist friend who started her own salon Yoongi: thats nice Yoongi: but next time come in You: k Yoongi: 134340 You: ? Yoongi: door code You: guarding it with my life

(fifteen minutes later)

Yoongi: (photo attached: empty bento box)

Curious how time has passed and with frequency and proximity, you discover new things about Yoongi. Things that only came with time. Things you wouldn’t catch if you weren’t paying attention. Things you couldn’t have known before.

There are lines you never noticed until you were tracing them at rest. Creases that only surface when he’s thinking too hard, or biting back a smile. Dimples, not on the smile lines, but on his chin, when he’s bored. And then there’s the slightest double chin when he’s slumped and snoozing when schedules get rough. It’s your job to know his face, to fill the lines. There are times you touch him a little longer, not for anything but comfort and maybe your greed. He lets you.

Lips, sweeter than any cherry balm you could ever swipe. But far more frequently chapped than you like so you’ve started packing bottled water inside your kit, making him sip while you let lip mask seep between the patches of dry skin. His lips have become your favorite. Sometimes it splits when he does that shriek he often pulls to make others laugh but then it also presses against your shoulder when he’s too tired to kiss you properly. Sometimes they murmur your name like it’s a sexy secret, and you wonder how you lived before hearing it said like that. 

There’s also his eyes. Small, but somehow holds a significant power. He has a habit of narrowing them, but now you can tell why, when he’s suspicious, or teasing or just tired, or forgot his glasses. You don’t need him to speak. Sometimes the way he looks at you says more than full conversations ever could.

His default expressions are even more cat-like up close. On default :< When he’s playful :] But your favorite is the :3. You always make sure his features stay sharp, complimenting his felinesque features. You pull his liner outward, shade his jaw, angle his brow. Lil Meow Meow, apparently he is called. And what ARMY wants, ARMY gets.

His hair is finer than it looks. Silky in a way that slips easily between your fingers when you card through it absentmindedly, especially when he’s resting his head in your lap. The strands at his nape get extra soft after he showers, curling ever so slightly where they brush against his undercut. He likes when you play with it, especially the buzzed edges, more than he lets on. You figured that out the first time you tugged a little harder and heard the way his breath caught, low in his throat. Now it’s something he leans into, shameless. One tug and suddenly he’s pliant, open.

He smells like tangerines. Rarely does he not have it in his pocket. But also, there’s this perfume he wears. It clings. Intoxicating and addicting, and you wonder if it’s just you who’s not immune. It lives in your hair, your pillow, your skin. You catch yourself breathing deeper when you catch it, like your body recognizes what’s safe faster than your mind can.

You no longer think about what you used to think of him. When he only said four words, and always closed his eyes.

Finally, you know Min Yoongi. Not the pixels, but the person.

You know him now in the noise and chaos of backstage, from watching him when you have your kit open and he’s on his chair waiting to be groomed. 

But you’ve come to know him more in the quietest hours, too. When he wakes beside you in his California king, face bathed in the kind of morning light no makeup could ever imitate. When he opens his eyes, and leans into your space like he always does, all soft and sleepy and sexy.

There’s no need to polish him here. Because this is him at his most perfect in your eyes. When you can just reach for him. 

Not because he’s Min Yoongi, the idol. 

He’s Min Yoongi, yours. Even without the labels, yet.

You: yoongi. Yoongi: ? You: we almost got caught in the fucking meeting room 😭 Yoongi: that was close. You: close??? do you know what would’ve happened if someone saw? Yoongi: i’d probably get a raise You: ddaeng i’d get fired Yoongi: we’re fine You: you are not serious Yoongi: you kissed me You: you pulled me in Yoongi: yeah and? You: AND?? Yoongi: should’ve locked the door You: Yoongi 😩 Yoongi: you wanted it You: i did NOT Yoongi: your hand was where? You: BYE

You (photo attached: wine glass, bare legs, tv in background): guess what i’m watching Yoongi: don’t care Yoongi: all i see is leg You: rude Yoongi: wear a skirt tomorrow You: so direct Yoongi: thought we’re not teenagers You: thought you said you’d behave Yoongi: sure 😃

Another day in the glam room, another TikTok dance challenge Yoongi somehow said yes to. This time with members of TXT. He’s really never beating the allegations of rizzing up his juniors.

He’s already styled when he walks in. And looking at what he’s wearing... Honestly? He’s wearing you the fuck out. And it’s barely noon.

White tank under a greige short-sleeved shirt, pretty, purple embroidered butterflies sitting on either side of his chest. But it’s the jeans—loose, shredded clean through the knees—that have you scandalized like a Victorian maiden seeing skin for the first time.

“Good morning,” you greet.

He hums, eyes you up and down shamelessly and you know the conversation last night is about to resume in the flesh.

“Hey,” he takes his spot on the chair.

“Looking forward to today?” You ask, turning to pluck a brush and pot from your kit.

“You can say that…”

As you face him, he parts his legs, glancing down at the freshly cleared spot on the floor, then looks back up at you. Waits.

You sigh, already knowing what it is. An unspoken invitation to take your place between his knees. To get closer. So you do.

“This what you wanted?” you ask, feigning indifference, as you swirl the spoolie through your brow gel, wiping off the excess on the rim.

“Not exactly,” he says, smirking, knees closing in on the side of your hips. “But close.”

You start brushing his brows up, grooming them into a perfect arch when you feel it. His fingers, slow and sneaky, sliding up your skirt, skimming the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

You look him dead in the eyes.

He winks.

“Yoongi…” you tsk, moving to brush up his other brow.

“Noona…” he shifts forward, tongue peaking on the side of his mouth, which you try try try to ignore.

“Somebody might see,” you mumble. 

“Let them.”

“Such a little shit.”

“You love it.” You freeze when you feel his fingers hook your panties to the side and when he discovers that you’re more excited than you let on, “Oooh. You really do.”

Mortified, is what you are. Soaked from anticipation and some light, slight petting. How dare your body betray you like this?!

“I like your skirt,” he murmurs. The hand that isn’t currently violating you taps the floofy fabric like it’s innocent. As if the other one isn’t busy toying with your cunt.

Dignity hanging by a thread, you grit, “Didn’t wear it for you.”

A bold-faced lie. He knows it, too. “Sure you didn’t,” he chuckles.

His index swipes your folds, lazy, teasing strokes that get deeper with every pass, never quite reaching the one spot you need him to.

“But aren’t you glad you did?” At that exact moment, he flicks your puffy clit, circling it like he’s known exactly where it was all along.

“Fuck,” you gasp, pitching forward, hands gripping his knees just to stay upright.

The pot and brush drops to the floor and rolls into oblivion. Much like your sanity.

He hisses through his teeth as he eases his middle finger inside you, walls fluttering at the sudden intrusion.

“So wet for me, baby,” he grins, lower lip caged between his pretty teeth in his pretty mouth. It’s devastating. He’s devastating. And the way he’s watching you fall apart while knuckles-deep, pumping steadily in and out of your dripping pussy only makes it worse. Or better. Definitely worse. But shit, it feels so good.

“Yoongi… shit…” you breathe, forehead falling into the crook of his neck as your knees threaten to give out. Your palms, slick with sweat, slide beneath the frayed denim of his jeans, desperate for more skin, more heat, more of him. Fingertips dig into his thigh, surely to leave little crescent moons in his flesh. He groans, but doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves with maddening precision, adding just enough pressure to make you whimper. You moan, high and sharp, the sound slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

“Feel good?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wanna cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do it,” he licks the shell of your ear. “I got you, baby.”

That fuckin’ does it. 

You come with a soft gasp, body jerking slightly as heat rushes through you in quiet waves. It’s not loud, not messy, but it rocks you all the same—your breath hitching, muscles clenching, forehead buried in his neck to muffle the sound.

“Shit…” you breathe, blinking as the aftershocks melt through your limbs.

He pulls his fingers out slow and slick, and you wince at the emptiness he leaves behind. 

Your mouth falls open. “Yoongi.”

“I like seeing you like this,” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours so you look up. “When you lose control.”

His lips meet yours, stirring more chaos in your mind. When you pull back, trying to reorient yourself, he leans in again.

“Yoongi… fuck, you need to behave, okay?” You mumble against his lips, nipping his plush lower lip before attempting to pull away.

“But noona,” he lifts himself up, bucking against you once just so you feel the hardness between his thighs. “You're making it hard….”

You’re about to give in, when the door creaks open.

You spring backward like your life depends on it, bumping your back against your kit and you suppress the dull pain across your spine. A familiar voice floats in, Hyein, asking if you saw Jimin.

“Nope,” you reply as you start fixing bottles and palettes randomly. You meet Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror and almost crash out when he brings his hand to his lips—without shame, without pause—and licks two fingers clean.

You nearly choke on air.

“Yoongi needs to be out in 5,” Hyein calls out and closes the door.

The company Thanksgiving dinner isn’t really optional, since you’re both employees. But after a magazine shoot, Yoongi lingers as you pack up and still asks if you want to go with him.

“Why do you say it like that,” you laugh. “Like you’re inviting me to prom.”

 “Well… I’m down if you wanna match…” He shrugs, leaning against the wall as he watches you zip up your Zuca.

That’s how you end up in all black—simple, classic, and just a little coordinated with his own sleek black button-down shirt and pants. Yoongi always finds a way to underdress the right way. You compliment him, but he downplays it saying, he just ‘wore an old shirt.’ Yeah, it's the same look from their Grammy performance, but he says it like it should somehow make him look a little less. Joke’s on him, your humble king.

The event is important, but low-pressure. Not quite a red carpet, but still enough eyes to notice when the two of you walk in together. Thankfully Namjoon and Jin are not too far behind with one of their female producers.

You keep a respectful distance, like the professionals you are. But people see. You know they do. A couple of glances. Some whispers. Nothing rude, just… curious. To your insistence and his disappointment, you have dinner with your glam team. Because wouldn’t it be strange if you’re seated with them? You don’t know if you’re ready for a soft launch.

But it sure seems he is. The way he looks at you like there’s no one else in the room. And it’s in the way he caters to you. Like while you’re walking toward the open bar, the strap of your heel suddenly slips loose. You pause, bending slightly to fix it, but Yoongi beats you to it.

He kneels (!!) right there on the marble floor, one hand steadying your ankle as he buckles the strap with steady fingers.

You panic, pulling him by the sleeve of his shirt. “No, you don’t have to—”

 “Let me,” he tells you as he so often does. Head down, thumb brushing the side of your foot, he fixes your shoe and suddenly you’re Cinder-fuckin’-ella in your own damn fairy tale.

Obviously, more than one pair of eyes are turning toward the scene. Cos the scene is not something you see everyday: Min Yoongi, rapper-producer-self-proclaimed bad boy, on his knees for this random girl, rugged hands wrapped delicately on her ankle. 

A couple of stylists from another team, wide-eyed. One of the project managers from digital looks like she might combust. 

Yoongi rises slowly and nods his head towards the bar. You follow him. And that’s that.

After the dinner, you end up at his place. Still dressed up, both of you nursing hot tea listening to a record he chose. Something low and jazzy filters through the room as you curl into his sofa.

“I usually don’t like company parties,” you murmur. “But it wasn’t that bad.”

“Didn’t think it would be,” he says. “I’m glad you came with me.”

He looks at you for a moment, asks, “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. I think so.”

You were always a good kid, so you never knew what it felt like to be summoned to the principal’s office. It’s probably something like this then. When two days after the company dinner, you were asked to go to HYBE’s HR department.

You’ve never met this woman before, but it’s clear she’s a higher-up. The tightest hair bun you’ve ever seen, cartoonishly wide cat-eye glasses, you already know she’s ripped at least one person a new asshole in the last five business days.

Not much preamble. When she started, oh, she really didn’t mince words and waste time. The way she looked at you spoke volumes of what she thought you had plotted.

“Miss Y/L/N, it has come to our attention that you have gotten involved with one of the members of BTS. As such, you can no longer be the lead makeup artist for the group effective immediately.”

“Due to our current headcount, we are unable to reassign you to another division.”

“Given the years of our professional relationship, we will still provide you with any recommendations you need should you choose to find employment in another company.”

“Your final pay will be sent to you within 30 business days. Please pack up your things and surrender your ID on your way out.”

Somehow, you are able to hold your head high, temper the storm in your chest, and nod as dignified as you can. “I understand. I’ll see myself out.”

You saw this shit coming. Sniffed it out from a mile away. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting. You spent more than a decade in this company, shaping and sharpening the creative vision for their two biggest acts, and they’ll let you go all because you decided to date a coworker.

Although they are clearly correct, you are involved with Yoongi, no clear evidence was even presented to you. Nothing was said to indicate that they were in touch with the member of BTS in question to get his side. Regardless, it was never gonna be a man’s fault. She thinks you probably seduced him and took advantage of your close working relationship. Ahh, this is so fucked up. 

“Noona…” a voice interrupts your thoughts.

Namjoon.

“Hey—are you…?”

You swipe a tear quickly from your cheek, but he already saw.

“What happened?”

You pull your cardigan tighter around your frame. Was there a point in lying about it? You sigh, “Got fired.”

“WHAT?” Namjoon’s voice echoes down the hall and your eyes widen like saucers.

He springs into action, stringing you like a marionette into every direction until then you end up in… his studio?

“The hell’s goin’ on?” 

You shrug, take a spot on the couch. “Not much to it, Namjoon. They fired me because they found out about me and Yoongi.”

It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged this to any member verbally. It feels oddly comforting to say it out loud.

“Does he know about this?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“Imma call him right now,” Namjoon fishes his phone from his pocket, but he knocks over something from the side table. It’s a half-full cup of coffee from god-knows-when. “Shit.”

You take some paper towels from his desk and help him soak the brown liquid from the carpet. It’s not really working. His paper towels are kinda thin. And the brown liquid is almost black at this point and it’s making you gag.

“You know what, shit,  let’s just leave that. We’ve got bigger problems…”

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna go.” You rise to your feet, smoothing your skirt down.

“Yoongi won’t allow this.”

“I know. But I did break the number 1 rule.”

“Let’s call him.”

“It’s ok, Namjoon-ah. I’m gonna pack up my stuff and go home. It’s a lot to process and I think I need to just… yeah. I’m gonna go home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you give him what you hope is a placating smile. “I just wish I got to say goodbye to everybody.”

“We’ll fix it,” he promises.

“No need,” you call over your shoulder. “Nothing’s broken.”

Bzzt… bzzt…

Your eyes crack open, a slow, confused blink. You’re warm, groggy, skin dry from sleep and mouth sticky from wine. The room’s dark except for the kitchen pin lights still on.

You glance at your clock: 11:02 p.m. it says.

The hell? There’s some heavy knocking going on now.

You pull yourself off the couch, legs slightly cramping, brain not quite awake. So out of it you don’t actually check the peephole before you pull the door wide open.

“Baby—what the fuck?!”

Yoongi’s voice hits first. Then his body—arms wrapping you up so tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip between his fingers. His coat’s cold but he smells like cedar and mint shampoo..

“I thought you—” he chokes out, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the back of your sweatshirt. “You weren’t answering, I—fuck, I thought you—”

“I fell asleep,” you whisper, dazed, unsure how to hold all of this emotion spilling from him. “I’m sorry.”

His hands come up to your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone like he’s checking if you’re real. His eyes are wet. His breathing unsteady.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did,” you say. “You didn’t pick up. So I just… went home.”

He follows your gaze to the half-full wine glass on the coffee table. His jaw flexes.

“Had a few drinks and crashed,” you add, quietly.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just exhales shakily and pulls you into his chest again, tighter this time. You press your face against his shirt, feel the way his heart is hammering through the fabric.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you mumble.

He doesn’t answer that either. Just holds you there, arms wrapped around you like he needs to physically keep you in his orbit.

You pull back slightly. Look up. “Let me just wash my face real quick. Just sit, okay?”

He nods, wordless, and sinks into the couch like he’s been holding himself up all day.

You go to the bathroom, splash cold water on your cheeks. Brush your teeth. Run a brush through your hair. Change to a lounge set.

You can hear Yoongi’s voice outside. He’s on the phone with someone, and he just told them that you’re okay.

You stare at your reflection, pale and puffy-eyed. Yeah, you’re okay. The lines under your eyes are deeper than usual. But overall, you’re fine.

When you step back out, Yoongi’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s praying. He lifts his eyes the moment you enter, teeth pulling at the skin of his lips.

You sit beside him on the couch, tuck your legs under you. Let your knee rest against his thigh.

“So I got fired…” you say softly, voice thin.

“Namjoon told me,” he says. “I wanted to punch that new HR guy.”

“It’s a woman.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Found that out belatedly after I barged in.”

You smile despite yourself.

“Anyway, I talked to Bang PD. He didn’t authorize this. This HR lady, she’s new. A bit too eager, trigger-happy. I think she wanted to make a statement.”

“Well what kind?”

“She said she just wanted to protect Bangtan from people…” he pauses, shakes his head. “Who might be taking advantage of us. I told her you’re my girlfriend. Fuckin’ idiot!”

Oh?

“They could assign you back to Seventeen,” he prattles on, nostrils flaring. “Not like they’ve found a new person to take over. It’s not easy to find your level of talent and they’re stupid to…”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You said something…”

His mouth parts, a little confused.

“No cause you just casually dropped that.”

“Baby,” he hangs his head, pinching the space between his brows with his index and thumb. “That’s your takeaway?”

“Well,” you shrug. “News to me.”

“You’re my woman, okay? Don’t–” he tuts when you almost cut him off. “Baby please don’t even argue with me on this. You know I’ve been yours. And right now I feel guilty. I should have said so earlier and done my due diligence with the paperwork and shit. But I hate getting legal involved in my personal life. Hoba told me to do it. Cause he’s doling out NDAs left and right, but I don't want you to think you're just some hookup. This is on me. And I’m fixing it, okay. They will transfer you to any group you want.”

“I don’t want it,” you say, more firmly than you expected.

“Huh?”

“I don’t want it,” you repeat.

“You don’t want your boys?” 

You roll your eyes, because Seventeen is still some kind of chip on his shoulder. “No. I don’t want pity. Or to feel like they just let me stay because they’re afraid of you.”

“Damn right they are.”

You breathe out, jaw tight. “I want to leave with my head up. And I did.”

Yoongi nods, slow. Like he gets it. Because of course he does.

There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t last. Yoongi is still a ball of fire.

“You’re terrifying.”

“Why?”

“You’re so calm.”

You take a moment before you articulate your introspections as you enjoyed your merlot earlier. “You know what? Deep down, I knew it was gonna come to this,” you say. “And if it came down to it, I’d rather just leave HYBE… than you.”

That finally pulls a gentler sound from him. A quiet, pained exhale. His hand finds yours, holds it tight. When you look over, his eyes are glassy again, but his smile is faintly there—gummy, a little lopsided..

“What?” you ask.

He just shakes his head.

“Seriously, what?”

He presses his forehead against yours, closes his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You kiss him, and he lets you. For a minute or two you savor the way his lips slide against yours, no thoughts, just love. Then he pulls back and says something kind of out of pocket.

“I’m rich.”

You stare. “Okay…?”

“You know I can take care of you.” He says it so earnestly, but you can’t help but giggle.

“I don’t need a Sugar Daddy. How do they even call it if the woman is older?”

“How the hell are you so cool about this?”

“Because I know I have you, but I know I got me, too. I have some money saved up and some stocks I can sell if need be. Market’s looking bullish anyways…”

“You know how sexy you sound right now?”

“Umm talking about the stock market turns you on?”

“Something about a bull…”

“Want me to ride you like a bull?” You raise your brow.

“If you don’t let me fuck you right this second…”

Yoongi removes each button from your top, one by one, kissing every patch of skin revealed to him. You close your eyes, savoring the tiny, wet kisses deposited to your neck down to the valley of your breasts where he lingers for a beat. Purrs as he presses his cheek against your soft mounds and sighs before lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Use me,” he says. “I know you’re angry, baby.” He peels your shirt down your arms. “Let it out…”

He holds your nipple between his fingers, twists it, and you groan helplessly in response.

“You can punish me. if you want…”

It takes a while for you to process his offer, between butterfly kisses and the teensiest sucks against your skin, a combination that's driving you wild. 

But he’s right. As always. You are mad. Not at him. But the broken sexist system.

“Yoongi?” You tug his hair.

“Hm?”

“Sit back against the headboard.”

He nods and situates himself as you asked.

You walk over to your closet to find a scarf, this white and black Valentino that he gifted you some weeks back. You climb onto him, knees bracketing his hips as you watch the curiosity glistening from his eyes. 

You’ve never really done anything like this before. But you’re familiar with it and you’ve always been down to try anything new. Bonus is you know Yoongi likes to play, so this is perfect. Honestly, he is perfect.

“I’m gonna blindfold you. And you’re not allowed to touch me. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

The scarf drapes over his eyes, darkening everything he knows, leaving him with nothing but sensation. Breath. Sound. You.

“Use colors, okay?” you whisper, lips barely grazing the shell of his ear.

He nods, swallows. “Yes.”

“What’s it now?”

“Green:”

You hum in approval, fingers ghosting down his chest. “Good boy.”

You take your time with him. Explore his body in ways you never have before. Yoongi shivers. You watch his Adam’s apple bob, the breath hitch in his chest. 

“You asked for this,” you say softly, dragging your nails across his ribs, just enough to raise goosebumps. “So I’m going to use you.” You slap his cheek, earning a soft gasp from him, before his lips curve into a smile. He’s going to enjoy this, you can already tell.

You trace the lines of his body with your mouth. Flick your tongue on his nipples before nibbling on them until they're raw, slightly bruised. You blow cool air against it, earning you a low purr from the back of his throat.

He’s hard already. His huge cock straining against the waistband of his boxers, but you don’t touch him there. This is not like other nights. You want him aching for it.

You slink down to suck faint bruises into the soft dip of his hipbones. Let your nails wander, grazing his soft tummy where pink lines have bloomed like cat scratches. When he moans, hips bucking slightly, you press a palm flat to his stomach.

“Stay still,” you warn.

His voice is a rasp. “Yes, noona.”

You peel his boxers off slowly. His cock springs free—dark at the tip, already leaking. The bead of cum on his tip shines. You circle it once with your finger, feather-light.

“Fuck,” he gasps, hips twitching again.

You slap his thigh—not hard, just enough for pain to mix with the pleasure painted clearly on his face. “I said still.”

His hands flex against the sheets he’s gripping sooo tightly. You see the tension, the need. His mouth opens, lips trembling.

“More…”

You smirk, finally leaning down and licking a slow stripe up his shaft. He whimpers, whimpers! And by god, if it’s not the prettiest sound in the world.

And just for that you can throw him a bone. But you suck only the tip into your mouth and let it pop free. 

His body arches off the bed instinctively and one errant hand makes its way to the back of your neck.

Another slap—gentler this time.

“Sorry, noona.”

“Patience, baby. You wanted to be used, right? That means you wait until I’m done.”

You tease him for what feels like forever. Stroke him gently, then quicker, then stop just when he thinks you’ll give him more. Every whine you pull from him shoots straight to your cunt.

His thighs are trembling. “Noona. More…”

You finally straddle him, not lowering yourself yet, just grinding super slow against the base of his cock, letting your slick drag across him.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you murmur, stroking his cheek where the blindfold wraps around his head. 

“Fuck, noona, let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you lean forward, let your tits press against his chest, and drop a small peck on the corner of his mouth. His lips pucker belatedly as you pull back.

“You are so hot like this, baby. So good to me,,” you assure him, sliding a hand down to wrap around his cock, pumping it just once, then again, tighter. “Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.”

Finally, you shift to guide him to your entrance. Still hovering. Still making him wait.

He’s breathless now, forehead sweaty beneath the scarf. “Fuck noona. Put it in. I need to feel you—fuck—need to cum in you, please.”

God, he sounds broken. Ruined.

You sink down in one slow, aching glide, and you moan in unison, in pure fucking ecstasy. Your voice high and needy, his low and desperate. He’s pulsing inside you as you steady your hips, letting your walls adjust, keeping him warm.

“Fuck, you feel—fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so tight, noona. So warm—please let me touch you.”

“Not yet,” you grit out, riding him slow and mean, using him. You let your clit drag against the short hairs on his crotch, finding the perfect angle to get you off. He can probably sense it now in the steady swivel of your hips and the stutter in your breath. 

“Yeah, just like that, noona,” he says, voice hoarse. “Use me.”

You dig your nails into his chest, bite at his shoulder. You pant. Speeding up your grind. His legs are trembling now, the muscles on his thighs, stomach, taut. “Noona…” He’s babbling now, half-words and curses, his head tossing side to side. “Can’t—shit, please—I’m….”

He’s close. You’re almost there.

“Touch me.”

His hands immediately fly towards your hips, pressing you down, deeper. Grabs your ass and guides your movements.

You fuck him harder like this, ride him like your life depends on it. You feel him losing it. Coming undone beneath you. 

“Where?”

“Inside me, baby. Fill me up…”

His whole body convulses, a strangled moan torn from his throat as he spills into you. You follow a heartbeat later, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound as you unravel together.

You don’t move for a moment. Just feel his chest heaving beneath you, the sweat between your bodies. You remove the blindfold.

His lashes are wet. He looks wrecked and raw and beautiful.

“Was that okay?” you ask softly, fingers combing his damp hair back from his forehead.

He nods slowly. Smiles. “More than okay.”

You guide him to lie flat again, press your palm to his chest to calm his breathing. You grab a warm towel and clean him gently, kissing each place you left a bruise or scratch.

He pulls you close afterward, arms around your waist, face pressed to your shoulder.

Before you drift off, you remember something you wanted to address.

“Can I ask you something?”

He hums.

“Why were you so worried earlier?”

“Namjoon said you looked a little, like, out of it, you know. And when I couldn’t get a hold of you, I thought you…” he heaves a sigh. “I don’t know why my mind went into that. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart squeezes. “That’s not gonna happen, Yoongi. I’m yours.”

He hugs you and doesn’t let go.

Post-HYBE life turns out to be pretty… as Yoongi says, slayyy. 

It was tough in the beginning, starting from scratch. You start your own website and portfolio, reach out to friends and contacts to help get your skin back into the game. A few months in, you’re now affiliated with a salon who specializes in editorial and product campaign shoots. Your last one was with Choi San for D&G Beauty.

Yoongi slips deeper into your life until the boundaries blur. A toothbrush in his cup. His shirt in your hamper. 

You never needed to say it. Because you both knew that this wasn’t fleeting. That you weren’t getting any younger. That whatever this is feels constant. 

One night he sends you a Spotify link. To one song. It’s a BTS track.

He usually doesn’t send his own stuff when you exchange playlists (a ritual that stayed on). You listen to it.

🎵Home - BTS

Your chest tightens. Your fingers hover over the reply. But then he calls.

No hi or how are you. Just one question: “Move in with me?”

Life with him is a burst of pigments.

Yellow, in the warm sunlight that wakes you both every morning. Orange, in the tips of his fingers when he’s peeled his umpteenth tangerine. Blue, in the fabric softener he overused to the point that it triggered an allergic reaction for both of you. (Downy is now banned.) 

Green, in the hangover soup you cook for him after a night out. (You, on the other hand, are sober for 2 months now.) Purple, in the marks he leaves on your inner thighs and the soft bruises on your chest. Pink, in the way he blushes when you walk out in his clothes. 

And then, finally:

Red, in the two faint lines. 

You blink down at the stick in your hand, seated on the toilet, heart pounding.

It’s only a minute before the door creaks open.

“Babe?” Yoongi floats in. “You’ve been in here a while.”

He sees your face first. Then the test clutched around your fingers.

He’s piecing it together.

“Omo,” he breathes, stunned.

You nod, heart tight in your throat.

“OMO OMO, you’re pregnant?” he says it with so much disbelief it makes you laugh through the lump in your chest.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?!” he kneels on the tiles in front of you. His hands are on your cheeks, your shoulders, your belly. “Holy shit!!!”

You’re laughing now, ugly and teary. He pulls you into a tight hug, still stunned.

He leans back, eyes wild with emotion. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

“I guess we are.”

And then the tears come, his. Yoongi chokes out a wet little sound and buries his squishy face in your neck. “Fuck. I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.”

You are.

So happy.

So ready.

So loved.

Between pigments & playlists. 

In technicolor. In surround sound.

In the forever you never thought possible.

This spring day.

:)

A/N: Soooo?? Did y'all bogo your shipdas? (dk what the means, but hope you liked it?)

Yoongi is back! While it was a bittersweet note that we got today, I know things are only going to get better from here for him and us. I hope and pray that he knows that he is so so so loved by ARMY.

So the fic! Yes the fic! I’d love some feedback. And a reblog if you are so inclined?

Thank you for reading this you lovely beautiful human, xo

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[myth1cs]

Married in Red (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Word Count: 2,531

Smut; A new series called "Requital" Prequel: Dead Plate (To be published) Part 2: Eloquent Countenance (To be published) Part 3: Rot in Paradise (To be published) Part 4: Cold Front (To be published)

When you parked in the parking lot you checked your phone once more to reaffirm that you were in the right place.

You were.

Stepping out of the car you fixed your tie, fixed a few loose strings of hair, and put on your gloves. You looked perfect. You walked through the entrance and made your way into the main room.

As you walked in you saw her. You gave her a warm smile and waved "Mina, its been a while." when she saw you her pupils widened and her breath hitched. "H- how did you- I didn't-"

Before she could finish her sentence someone came up and interrupted her.

"You must be Y/N! It's a pleasure to meet you." the man said as he went to shake your hand. "I'm guessing you're the lucky guy. Mina's a nice person, make sure you take care of her."

Mina interrupted "Did you invite him Jookeun?"

"Yes." He responded

"When?"

He focused his attention on her and responded "Back when you were getting tired writing invites and I took over I remembered how you mentioned a coworker from your previous job, so I thought it'd be a nice surprise to invite him. I'm terribly sorry did you not want me to?"

She sighed "No it's fine. You did nothing wrong honey. Thank you. It's nice to see his face again really. Now please excuse me, I- I need to a moment to get myself together." Mina said as she walked away going to a different room. "Sorry about that." He apologized to you. "Oh no I should be the one apologizing." Before he could ask questions you left.

There was no time for idle chit chat you needed to get a layout of the venue before the wedding started. It was rather comfortable a bit fancy but not too much. Seems like even after all these years Mina hasn't changed.

You found yourself in the dining room and found the cake that was made for the wedding. Next to it you saw a few plates, a knife and silverware. "Fancy" you thought before picking it up. You're a guest anyways and it was pretty fancy. Nobody would notice if it went missing anyways.

As you went to open another door you saw that Mina was on the other side laying down on a couch. "What are you doing here Mina?" She bolted up and locked eyes with you. "I should be asking you the same thing."

"Come on aren't you happy to see me. It has been a few years already hasn't it?"

"A few short years." She muttered under her breath.

"That's no way to greet a friend."

"What do you want?"

"Did you not miss me? I missed you ever since-"

"You- you missed me? Y/N you shouldn't be getting so emotional over simply meeting an old coworker."

"But are we really just that? I could've sworn we were something more. Especially after that night."

"Y/N it was just one... one weird night. Please don't tell me you came here looking for a repeat cause it's not happening."

"So, why did you choose Jookeun huh? He's not usually your type, in fact I think he's too innocent considering how you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You put your hand on Mina's cheek and gently rubbed circles on it. "You know what that means, both meanings in fact."

She gave you a dirty look "You're playing with fire right now. Keep it up and I'll ask Jookeun to kick you out of here."

"We both know that's an empty threat."

"What's with your outfit anyways." Mina tried to change the conversation. "You're attending a wedding not a funeral. Do you not know the dress code for a wedding?"

"Should I take it off? I thought I dressed for the occasion."

Mina put her hands on your suit and slowly undressed you. "Wearing an inappropriate attire won't go without repercussions."

She latched her lips onto yours and pulled you closer. You gently took your jacket off and laid it on the floor before you got on top of Mina pinning her beneath you on the couch.

Your hand reached behind her and unzipped her dress and pulled it down. "Still wearing the pink lingerie?"

"It's my favorite one."

"Of course it is." You pressed your lips onto her and pushed open her mouth with your tongue. Your tongue slid into hers. Her warm breath and wetness in her mouth was familiar. You missed it. As you sat on Mina's lap you noticed how warm her core was. "Seems like your body remembers me."

"It remembers you well Y/N and it wants you one more time." It sounded more like a plea to you than a simple comment. Your hand reached down, moving her panties to the side you let one of your fingers inside her aching pussy. A loud clenching sound could be heard as her pussy tightly pressed on your finger.

"Come on Y/N give me your cock." Mina whined. But you weren't going to give her what she wants - not so easily. You shoved your finger deeper into her making Mina cover her mouth as she let out a yelp.

Seeing her get ruined so easily like that night made your cock extremely hard. You missed her body. You unclasped her bra and moved it out of the way. Her breasts were on the smaller side but were still big enough for you to have fun with.

Gently squishing her chat you watched as her breast molded around your hands as you played with them. Mina let out shakey breaths out as you played with he breasts and gently pumped your finger in her pussy.

As you ran your finger down Mina's sides you felt how soft her skin was. It felt better than when you did the first time with her. You licked her nipple which sent a shiver down Mina's spine.

You pinched her nipple which made her let out a loud yelp she couldn't cover her mouth in time. "So noisy, do you want everyone to hear the noises of you cheating on your husband?" Without giving Mina a chance to respond you pushed yourself onto her body and gently kissed her lips before moving onto her chin and slowly trailing down her body.

After kissing her breast you were slowly making your way to her core before a knock came on the door. "Mina the wedding starts in 30 minutes." It was her Jookeun. "Y- yes Jookeun." You weren't worried about the fact that Mina's groom was outside the room and continued to make your way to her pussy.

"Hurry up Y/N." You tapped her panties before you removed yourself from her. "We still have so much time. Why rush?" Mina let out a groan as you continued pressing your hot kisses on her body. After all you were feeling slightly merciful today. Might as well save Jookeun the pain of seeing his wife marked up by another man. Not that it'd matter at the end of the day.

Stopping right before Mina needed it most you pulled yourself away from Mina's body. She opened her eyes and looked at you confused "Y/N what the fuck are you doing?"

"If you want it then you'll have to earn it."

She got up and got on her knees. It's been a while but she still remembers. You pulled your pants down and your cock sprung out. Mina bit the bottom of her lip seeing your cock. She grabbed it and ran it on her face for a while feeling its hardness. Once she had enough she began to suck on your cock. Her tongue twirling around the head while one of her hands fondled your balls.

When she thought she was ready she slowly took your length. You let out a low moan as you felt your cock slowly be covered in her warm wet saliva. She wasn't able to reach the base of your cock.

"Did you get worse Mina? Did all these years of not getting fucked by me make you worse at taking cock?" You mocked her. In an attempt to prove you wrong she pushed your cock deeper into her mouth.

Tears fell down her eyes as she forced herself to take in more of your length. Saliva fell out of the corners of her mouth as her nose hit your pubic hair. Mina worked her tongue on your cock. You shoved deeper in her making your cock touch the back of her throat.

Despite her lack of oxygen she didn't push you away and instead continued working on your hard cock. You felt your cock twitching and quickly started to shove your cock out and back into her throat. The need for pleasure clouded your mind and you released your semen into Mina's mouth.

She drank up your fluid entirely and opened her mouth for you to see. "Please give it to me now."

"I guess you earned it."

Mina got back up and laid on the couch. She spread her legs for you showing you her aching pussy. Slowly you entered her warm tight pussy. Your cock stretched her out as you shoved deeper into her.

Her fluids drenched your cock that was already covered in her saliva making it easier to slip it in further.

"So deep" Mina moaned out.

You wrapped her in a filthy kiss as you continued your thrusts into Mina's pussy. Squelching sounds filled the room and both Mina's and your orgasm drew closer.

With a final thrust your semen covered Mina's walls as her fluids covered your cock. She was panting and was feeling exhausted.

You got yourself up and cleaned up the mess you both made before dressing yourself up. You left the room and locked the door behind you so no one would walk in on Mina laying naked.

You made your way back to the main room where everyone was. "Ah, Jookeun I was looking for you." He looked over at you and waved you over "What's up Y/N, anything I can help you with?"

"There is something you can help me with in fact but we need to be somewhere more... private."

"Of course, we can go to the changing room. Nobody but me and Mina have the key to it."

"Perfect."

As Jookeun led you to the changing room you decided to make chit chat while on the way. "So how did you meet Mina?"

"It's rather embarrassing, I met her when my arm broke after a car crashed into me."

"Is that so? I thought it was inappropriate for doctors to have relationships with their patients."

"Oh no she wasn't my doctor or anything, in fact she's the one who crashed into me. She was a nervous mess but she drove me to the hospital. After that she invited me to coffee and we kinda hit it off."

"That's very... touching."

Both of you arrived at Jookeun's changing room and both of you stepped in. You made sure to lock the door behind you.

"By the way Jookeun did you notice anything off about Mina the night she crashed into you?"

"Well I guess she was acting a bit erratic but I'm sure it was because it was her first time crashing into someone."

"That might be it but I have a feeling there was another reason behind it."

"Care to tell?"

"Not at all."

As those words fell out of your lips you grabbed the knife from the pocket of your jacket and drove the knife into Jookeun's body. He fell to the floor clutching where you stabbed him.

"Don't scream or call for help or you'll scar your vocal chords even worse."

"Wh- why are you-"

"That day, Me and Mina were staying after hours in the restaurant. It was a mistake. A foolish mistake by Mina that caused the accidental burning of the restaurant. And when the police came over and interrogated us do you know what she did?"

He shook his head.

"She blamed it all on me and I went to prison for 10 years over her lies. To my dear Mina who showed no sign of atonement. I wonder if you'll feel the same guilt about marrying him as you did about betraying me."

Jookeun was dead.

You shoved his body in a closet, covered the blood stains, and left the room and locked it when you left. You went over to the fireplace you saw earlier. Nobody was around anymore. You burned your clothes in the fireplace before heading off to find Mina.

Luckily she bumped into your first.

"Y/N can we talk?"

"Can we do this somewhere more private?"

She nodded and led you to the changing room.

As you stepped in she spoke "Cut the bullshit Y/N why are you here?"

"I told you, to congratulate my friend."

"You're lying! I know you're up to something."

"What are you going to do about it? It can't possibly be worse than what you've already done."

"So you are here for that..."

"Fine I'll leave, but first let my give you the gift I made just for you."

"You made me a gift?"

"Yes, go ahead and reach into my jackets pocket for it."

"Fine, but afterwards I'm getting Jookeun to kick you out."

As she reached into your pocket she grabbed the knife handle and pulled it out of your pocket. Her eyes widened as she saw it was a knife covered in blood.

"Th- this is- you didn't-"

"I didn't, you did."

"Wh- what?"

"This is your weapon."

"Is that what you're going to tell? You're insane, why would I-"

"How should I know? I'm merely a witness. Maybe he caught us having sex and you killed him to silence him to save your image."

"Stop it, stop talking!"

"Because you would do anything to save yourself."

"I would never kill someone over something that petty!"

"And I never committed arson."

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I'll kill you!"

As she went to stab your chest you opened the closet and Jookeun's body fell on the floor.

Mina screamed at the top of her lungs. People came rushing into the room and what they saw was Mina standing over Jookeun's dead body. "Get away everyone she's dangerous! I saw her stab Jookeun and then she came after me!" Mina fled the scene wailing pushing people out of the way as she ran.

People rushed over to Jookeun's side and you heard people dialing something on their phones. Probably the police. But you weren't focused on them.

You followed Mina to the parking lot.

"I didn't- I didn't do it!" she screamed as she ran. But she didn't make it far as she fell on her knees.

She looked up at you tears falling down her face ruining her make up. Police sirens could be heard at a distance. You gave her a smirk.

You went up to her - police sirens drawing closer - and you asked her "Mina, do you atone now?"

---------

Jookeun (죽은) means "Dead" in Korean. Just a nice hint to let you know he was going to die.

[cherrygarcia-07]

hi gorgeous! idk if this is like a good a idea for you to write of anything, but maybe some Spencer fluff when he sees his ex again after like a long time, and they are still into each other and maybe at some point Penelope founds out or he tells her or something and she's just like "OMG! you have to get back with her!!!!" or something like that, idk. just leave your creativity flow

Thank you so much for the req I loved writing this one so much!! I hope you like it!! And thank you for letting me include Penelope she’s lowkey my favourite to write for lol❤️

The Road Back To You // Spencer Reid☕️

Synopsis: After a painful breakup, Spencer realises he’s still hopelessly in love with you. With some encouragement (and meddling) from Penelope he finds himself on your doorstep, desperate to win you back.

Pairing: s6! spencer reid x ex girlfriend! reader (ft everyones favourite matchmaker, Penelope Garcia)

Genre: fluff… well he’s a sad little yearner for a while but it has a happy ending i promise!!

Word Count: 5.8k

Notes/Tags: Swearing once. Spencer yearns like crazy. He’s a little sad sorry but he’s okay at the end. Spencer is awkward as hell and has zero game but we love him. Talks about Haley’s death. Otters mentioned! Gay people mentioned! I honestly don’t have much to say but I like this one a lot!!!

masterlist // if you enjoy pls reblog!! it helps so much!!

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Otters are often seen as a symbol of love. They’re affectionate and many species mate for life making them synonymous with soulmates in a lot of people’s hearts. In February you can find them plastered all over Valentine’s Day cards, hand in hand as they drift on their backs together and refuse to let the water pull them apart. Of course many animals mate for life, it’s not anything otter specific- in fact it’s not even true for all otter species- but you always had a thing for them.

Your mug still sat on the counter in Spencer’s kitchen, two little cartoon otters fading away on the front with the words ‘otterly in love’ printed beneath them in a curly font. Just a few months ago you’d been perched on the counter yourself, tea-filled mug in your hand as you prattled on about the TV show you were currently watching. Spencer was stood opposite you, coffee in his own mug as he listened intently, truthfully not knowing what you were talking about but grinning stupidly all the same. Two opposites so similar. Now it just sat there empty and useless reflecting how Spencer felt every time he looked at it but he didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. There were traces of you everywhere all over his apartment, the ghost of someone who wasn’t dead floating around mockingly with every note still pinned up on his fridge with a silly magnet and every book of yours still tucked between his on his shelves. He was haunted by his own regrets.

It had been an ugly breakup, but not in the traditional sense. There was no screaming or shouting, no throwing or shattering. It was ugly in a quiet way, in the tears that dripped down your cheeks, the soundless begs for him to stay. A silent exit that felt louder than any argument you could’ve had instead- that you wish you’d had instead. A door that closed softly, sympathetically, behind him as he left that somehow felt like a slam that rocked its hinges. It was ugly in the feeling it gave the two of you deep in your hearts; that dull, agonising ache where you just wished the circumstances could be different. It was shortly after Haley’s funeral- after seeing what the job had cost Hotch, Spencer began to put up walls. He thought he was protecting you, you had thought he was protecting himself.

He saw your face everywhere he went. When he walked past your favourite bookstore and gazed into the window like he just couldn’t help himself he saw you scanning the shelves, brows pinched in concentration and your lips moving in silence as you read the titles along the spines with your finger hovering in the air in front of each book. He saw your face light up when you found what you wanted, excitedly but carefully prying the book from the shelf before running over to where he stood, usually by the foreign classics, to show him. He saw how his own face softened as you pressed your shoulder to his, smiling softly as you rambled and flicked through the pages of the book you were now holding between the two of you. The bell above the door rang out, harmonising with your airy laughter as he watched the two of you stroll out onto the street arm in arm, the book he’d bought you tucked tightly under your other arm before the memory faded into nothing, leaving the street empty before him.

It was like that no matter where he went; the café where you had met, the park you two would take evening strolls in after work, hell even in the grocery store he could swear he could see your hair whip through the air as you turned the corner of the aisle, the sleeve of your favourite jacket riding up your arm as you reached for something on a too-high shelf, your perpetually untied shoe laces trailing the floor as you stood on tip toes and-

Oh fuck, it actually is you.

Spencer froze where he stood, or at least he’s pretty sure he did. All he could hear in that moment was the static buzzing in his brain, like a thousand tiny Spencers were running around frantically screaming and shouting up there. His jaw hung open, eyes wide and dumb as he watched you turn towards him almost in slow motion, hair falling around your face like a picture frame. Your mouth was moving but no sound was coming out, at least not that he could hear. All he could focus on was the shape of your lips- so familiar yet now so foreign. Those lips he’d kissed more times than he could count, those lips that had always beamed in his direction except for the last time he’d seen them when they trembled and shook at his words.

“Spencer?” They called out. Your voice was muffled and hazy in his ears like he was only semi-conscious, but God did the sound of his name from your lips feel like heaven. You were staring at him, blinking expectedly like you were waiting for him to do something. “Spencer, you called my name.”

“I did?” He squeaked, voice hoarse as he forced it out. Did he? He cringed at himself for a moment before clearing his throat awkwardly, feigning confidence. “I did. Yes, I did, um-”

What are you doing? Say hello. Ask her how she is. Tell her you miss her. Sweep her off of her feet and tell her you’ll never let her go again.

“Your shoelace is untied.” Idiot.

You hesitated for a moment, visibly confused before glancing down at your shoe, kicking your leg out slightly so that your laces hung in the air between you. You were wearing your converse- the pair you’d bought to match Spencer’s. He noticed.

“Yeah, I know.” You replied, offering him an awkward smile. “You’d think I’d have learned by now, with the way you always panicked every time I tripped on the street.”

Panicked. Past tense.

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” He spoke quietly. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. A thick, mournful silence stretched out between you, saying everything neither of you could voice aloud. Like Haley. Both of your gazes dropped to the floor, to your matching converse, before flickering back to each other at the same time. Perfectly in sync.

“It’s good to see you, Spencer.” You piped up eventually, your voice cutting through the tension slightly. He tried to ignore the stinging feeling in his chest hearing his full name instead of your usual ‘Spence’.

“It’s good to see you too.” He responded, a fond smile pulling at his lips despite everything. He just couldn’t help it when it came to you. “Really good.”

“How have you been? How’s work?” You asked, voice cracking slightly at the last word.

“I’ve been ok.” Not great, not good or fine. Just ok. “Work is… work.” His voice trailed off, not wanting to discuss the very thing that had split you apart. The very thing that had you standing away from each other making small talk instead of walking hand in hand through the aisles as you picked out what you were going to cook together that night.

“Ohmygod!” You chirped suddenly, a hint of excitement in your voice that lifted the tension just a tad. “You cut your hair!” Without thinking, like it was instinct, your hands flew up to his head, twirling a short curl around your finger. Spencer had to fight his eyelids as they threatened to flutter shut but he couldn’t stop the content sigh that left his lips- your hands in his hair felt like home.

“Yeah I did.” He breathed, leaning into your touch ever so slightly. “You always said it was getting too long.”

He remembers the way you used to sit with your legs swung over his lap as you toyed with his hair while some movie or TV show was forgotten in the background. One hand would be resting on your knee, the other wrapped around your back holding you close to him as you teased him, adoration lacing through your sarcasm.

“I’m serious, Spence, you could braid it!” You had laughed, holding his hair up in a ponytail, your hands a makeshift hair tie.

“You’re being dramatic.” He’d argued back, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed the butterflies in his stomach as your fingertips grazed his neck.

“Oh yeah?” You’d challenged, hopping off of his lap and sprinting to the bathroom as he laughed after you from his spot on the couch. You came back brandishing a handful of colourful hair ties and hair clips, a mischievous smile plastered on your face.

Not long after you were leaning back against the arm of the couch, a camera in your hands as you laughed wildly at him, dolled up and blushing as he tried and failed to hide his face with his hands, giggling just as much as you until your cheeks ached.

Now, with your fingers still in his hair, the memory wrapped itself around Spencer’s heart like a rope, squeezing it as it pulled and pulled, threatening to rip it out of his chest entirely.

“Well I think it suits you.” You said softly. You didn’t pull your hand away. Instead you let it fall reluctantly, fingers brushing against the curve of his cheek, so gently that if he wasn’t so in tune with your movements he would’ve missed it completely, before dropping to his shoulder and eventually back at your side as if it never happened.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“It um-” Spencer began, trying to swallow the inexplicable feeling causing a lump in his throat, “my head gets cold sometimes now.” He mumbled, cringing at himself for the odd response. But you laughed.

You laughed that lovely, radiant laugh. The one so heavenly he was sure it would put the angels to shame. God, he wanted to hear that blissful sound for the rest of his life. His gaze shyly dropped from your face, no longer able to handle looking into those eyes that he used to get lost in for hours- he still would if given the opportunity, if it didn’t hurt so much to do so now. That was when he saw it, glistening between your collarbones, framed by your body and shining bright and beautiful. The necklace he gave you on your first anniversary. You were still wearing it.

Spencer breathed in sharply, brows pinched and nose scrunched as he dropped his gaze fully to the floor, the sound of your laughter still ringing in his ears as he blinked back tears. He let himself wonder for just a second about if you felt the same way. If you saw his face in strangers on the street, or if you heard his voice in your head when you were re reading the books he bought you. He thought about whether you still slept on the left side of the bed, or if you stayed in the middle now there was no him to make space for. Did you go back to hugging that stuffed animal you swore you’d outgrown now you didn’t have his side to curl into? Did you leave for work on time now that he wasn’t there begging you to stay in bed with him for just five more minutes as he peppered you with sleepy kisses?

A voice sharply pulled him out of his trance. Not your voice, no- not that serene melody that lead him anywhere with a gentle touch. This was a harsh, grating voice that yanked him out of his thoughts with so much force he almost face planted the floor. This was a man’s voice. Calling your name. His heart sank at the small smile that bloomed on your face as you turned to face the mystery man, and somehow the glow of your necklace- of Spencer’s necklace- seemed to dim against your skin.

“I’ll be right there, Nathan, I’m sorry.” You called back apologetically, waving at him in reassurance before he disappeared back around the corner of the aisle.

I’m sorry.

Spencer whispered the words to himself while your back was still turned to him, the words burning in the back of his throat. He suddenly felt foolish, like a burden mixing you up in his silly fantasies when you had clearly moved on in your life, yet he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the scent of your perfume floating through the air as you spun back to face him.

“I better get going.”

“You better get going.”

The two of you spoke in unison. Under any other circumstances Spencer would’ve found it funny how in sync you always were, how perfectly you slotted together like you were practically just one being. But now, his heart sank further, drowning in memories of you. Suffocating. Now it felt like a mockery. Like the current was too strong no matter how hard he grasped your hand, it was pulling you away from him.

“Yeah.” You breathed, almost remorsefully. You bit your lip, your hand flinching hesitantly before reaching out and resting on Spencer’s arm, your thumb rubbing small circles against his cardigan instinctively. “It was really nice to see you, I mean it.”

“It was nice to see you too.” He croaked, trying not to focus on the weight of your hand against him. Clearing his throat he spoke again, unsure whether he wanted to let you go or not. “It’s been a while.” He added wistfully.

“Yeah, it has. It definitely takes me a lot longer to proofread my work before I send it in now.” You chuckled airily, emptily, as you reminisced about the two of you cramped into one chair at his desk in the low lamp light of his apartment.

Spencer didn’t smile back. “I hope you’re doing okay.” He whispered, just loud enough, as he waved goodbye and turned on his heel, not waiting to hear your response. He just needed to get out of there. He didn’t see the way your hand lingered in the air for a moment after he left, how you stared blankly at the spot where he’d stood before forcing yourself to walk away.

The next day at work, he was somber. He was slumped at his desk, letting his coffee run cold as his hands ran through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, sighing to himself as he tried to force himself to think about anything but you. Everything around him felt as if it were in greyscale, even the Rubiks cube he kept on his desk seemed unsolvable as the blocks all faded into indistinguishable shades of lifelessness, so to say he was surprised when a bumble of colours came strutting into his peripheral would be an understatement.

“Okay,” Penelope’s voice sighed as her neon pink heels clicked to a halt at Spencer’s desk. “Spill. What’s wrong, boy wonder.” She asked softly, tapping his hand with the fuzzy topper of her pencil.

“Nothing’s wrong.” He lied, although he didn’t even believe it himself.

“You’re dragging your feet about the place and you’re giving me those little puppy dog eyes of yours and it’s hurting me, Reid, it’s hurting me.” She spoke sadly, pausing to perch herself on the edge of his desk and forcing him to look at her with a gentle tap of his nose. “I just want to wrap you up in a hug if I knew you wouldn’t freak out that I’m carrying all the icky public transport germs on my clothes.”

He smiled briefly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Really, I’m fine, Garcia.”

“No, you’re not.” She spoke a little firmer, suddenly jumping to her feet. “In fact, up, come on. Come with me.”

Impatiently, she waved her hands in the air as she gestured for him to stand before beckoning him to follow her as her heels began clacking towards her office, Spencer trailing begrudgingly behind her. He really didn’t want to talk about it, but only a fool would dare try and escape Penelope once she was committed to taking care of them. In her office, she practically forced him into her desk chair, the wheels spinning it side to side as he adjusted himself. His eyes trailed the army of colourful trinkets and toys lining her workspace, though they couldn’t quite distract him from the bold FBI logo bitterly blinking back at him at all angles from the monitors all around.

“Okay, I have my therapist hat on,” she began, comically adjusting her headband on her head, “talk to me.”

“I’m just in one of those moods, I guess.” Spencer murmured, avoiding her gaze and picking up a small plushie kitten from the desk and turning it over in his hands as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“Uh-uh. No. You’ve got this sad, heartbroken little look in your eyes that pulls on my little heartstrings. I haven’t seen that look since- oh.” She cut herself off quietly, her eyes softening in understanding. “Is it her?”

Swallowing his emotions Spencer nodded, still focusing on the toy in his hands. “I saw her yesterday.”

“Oh!” She repeated, squealing a little as she clasped her hands together excitedly before she remembered the situation and promptly dropped her hands back to her lap. “Oh. Right, right.”

“Right.” Spencer echoed solemnly.

“How’d it go?” Penelope asked tenderly after a brief silence, scooting slightly closer in her own chair.

He shifted in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut as he contemplated whether or not he wanted to tell the truth. Honestly, he wasn’t really sure how it went. He knows how it felt for him, like every last bit of hope for the two of you had been squeezed out of him, but he frustratingly couldn’t get a read on you. Nor had he stopped thinking about you since.

“It was alright, at first. It was a little awkward on my part,” he scrunched up his nose, cringing at himself in retrospect, “and kind of sad but… nice.”

Penelope nodded along empathetically. “But then?”

“But then,” Spencer trailed off, stilling the toy cat in his hands before setting it down in defeat. “She was with somebody else.”

“Oh, honey.” She cooed, taking the plushie out of his lap and holding his hand instead. He usually wasn’t one to accept such gestures but in the moment it was comforting. “Tell me everything. Every word.”

“I mean I don’t regret what happened,” Spencer began after recounting the events to her, “at least I don’t think I do. I could never regret protecting her and keeping her safe but just seeing her there with him made me-“

“Jealous?” She cut in, raising a brow at him.

“What? No, not jealous, just-“ he tried to defend himself but he couldn’t think of anything else to say that could explain the ugly feeling bubbling in his chest, heinous and spitting like poison. Maybe he was jealous.

“Jealous.” She repeated, punctuating herself with another tap of her fuzzy pencil. “It’s okay, Reid. It’s normal. And for what it’s worth I think she’s totally still into you.”

“What?” Spencer squeaked, finally meeting her gaze with an incredulous look. “That’s- that’s ridiculous, Garcia.”

“Sweetheart,” She began, her voice taking on an ever so slightly teasing tone, “she was wearing your matching shoes.”

“They’re practical shoes.”

“She was still wearing your necklace.”

“Maybe she just liked how it looked with her outfit.”

“With her hoodie and converse? Yeah, sure.” Penelope cocked her eyebrow at him again, smirking slightly as she tilted her head at him. “Reid. My dear boy wonder. She played with your hair.”

“She was just commenting on my haircut,” Spencer insisted through stuttering words and burning cheeks, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighed, exasperated as she through her hands up. “That is classic, textbook I’m-still-in-love-with-my-ex-boyfriend. It’s yearning 101!”

He opened his mouth to protest, but there was no stopping the romance-loving adrenaline rushing through the veins of the meddling woman before him.

“You have to go after her.”

Spencer’s jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing rapidly like a fish as he blinked repeatedly in tandem. He was malfunctioning, evidently. “What? No!” He yelped, voice several octaves higher than before. “Garcia that’s crazy! Thats-“

“Genius!” She finished for him, a maniacal glimmer in her wild eyes as she beamed. “Oh it’s the perfect rom-com scenario.” She mused, clasping her hands together.

“I don’t watch romantic comedies.” Spencer replied deadpan. He bit back the word anymore. He used to, with you.

“This is the scene where the guy chases the girl through the rain,” Penelope began, ignoring him entirely, “or the scene where he jumps in a taxi and throws money at the cabbie and runs through the airport screaming her name right before she gets on the plane.”

“Plane? But she isn’t going anywhere.”

“Oh, will you shush? I’m being romantic. Something you should be doing with little miss love of your life right now.”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, sinking down in his chair and swivelling side to side in thought. “She’s moved on, Garcia.”

The defeated croak in his voice weighed heavy on Penelope’s heart. She often felt other people’s emotions in full force as if they were her own, something she saw both as her detriment and as her greatest triumph. But right now as she watched her heartbroken baby brother shrink into himself she wanted nothing more than to fix everything for him.

“You said his name was Nathan?” She asked, although she already knew, as she spun to face her monitor, pulling her keyboard towards her as her eyes locked onto the screen with laser focus.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, concerned at the sudden steel emotion hardening her features. “You can’t just cyber stalk everyone you deem an inconvenience- that’s a gross misuse of FBI resources.”

Penelope said nothing but held up a finger with authority, effectively shushing him though he still glanced over his shoulder nervously like he was expecting the door to be broken down any second. In just a few seconds her expression melted, a satisfied look taking over instead as she smirked, tilting the screen away from him with her perfect pink nails.

“You swear they were together?” She asked, an amused lilt in her voice that had Spencer furrowing his brows in confusion. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

“I think so.” He replied warily, eyes darting between her face and her death grip on the edge of the monitor.

“Well…” She sighed dramatically, though the grin on her face only grew wider. “Nathan’s boyfriend isn’t going to be too happy about that.”

Slowly, she spun the monitor back to face him, revealing a social media post. Sure enough, Nathan was stood looking positively ecstatic, arm around another man and hugging him close. Warm candles lit up the room around them, illuminating the balloons strung up on the wall and the roses on the table. Beneath the photo in the caption read the words ‘happy anniversary, baby” with a string of heart emojis.

Despite his protests to Penelope’s sleuthing Spencer felt a weight lift off of his chest, chuckling to himself slightly and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about something in his life. He was just a friend.

“You already let her go once,” she began, speaking gently again, “you can’t afford to let her go again.” Her hand let go of the monitor, instead coming to rest on Spencer’s shoulder.

“But I can’t afford to lose her forever, either.” He uttered, voice broken with something between heartbreak and regret. “I can’t afford to mix her up in this world. To lose her like-” He stopped speaking abruptly, like the thought of it was too painful to even force the words out.

“Like Haley.” Penelope finished for him again, rubbing his shoulder as he dropped his eyes to the floor. “I get it, sweetie, I do. But are you really going to let her walk away forever over a possibility?”

“If it saves her life, of course.”

“I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer, Reid, but you can’t guarantee anybodies life.” He nodded heavily, it was a reality the whole team was unfortunately all too aware of. “It’s not promised to anyone, whether you’re with her or not, so don’t let it get in the way.”

“I love her.” Spencer declared. Crisp and final.

“So go get her.” Penelope bumped his shoulder lightly in encouragement. “If not for you then for me, I miss my girl’s night partner.”

“I never stopped you from seeing her?” He turned to look at her, mentally running through every conversation they’d had about you incase he ever insinuated that without realising.

“I know but it’s basic girl code! Have you never seen a rom-com in your life? I could never do that to you.” She held a hand to her heart dramatically, like she was making an oath.

“Girl code?” Spencer echoed, confused, “but I’m not a-“

“Reid.” Penelope firmly planted both hands on his shoulders as she spun him in his chair until they were perfectly opposite each other, staring into his eyes sternly. “Go. Get. Her.”

“We still have 5 hours of work left.” He mumbled nervously.

“After work, genius. After work.”

“Right.”

Later that evening, after pacing around his apartment for what felt like an agonisingly long time, Spencer found himself outside of your door. Actually, he’d been there for so long he was half worried a neighbour was going to spot him outside of the window and call the police on him for loitering, but he just couldn’t work up the courage to knock on your door. The last time he had been here still haunted him and every time he looked up at the door he saw himself walking out of it, tears rolling down your face as you stood on the other side. Instead, he fumbled with the edges of his sleeves, repeatedly tightening and loosening his tie and occasionally reaching down into his bag and running his fingers along your mug tucked safely within one of his sweaters so that it didn’t shatter on the way over.

Desperately trying to calm his breathing, he finally made his way up the stairs, his legs trembling and threatening to give out beneath him with every step. Taking a deep breath, he reached out a shaking hand and gave three brave knocks on the wood, trying to ignore the nausea clawing at him from the inside.

He almost stopped breathing entirely when the door swung open moments later. There you stood. Perfect, ethereal you. The light of your hallway illuminated you in an angelic glow, a halo-like ring shining in your hair and Spencer swore in that moment that he had died and gone to heaven. You were only in your sweats and an old t shirt, glasses on and hair thrown up in a lazy ponytail, but he thought you were the most bewitching thing he had ever seen or that he ever would see for as long as he lived (which may not be very long given the way he was still holding his breath).

“Spencer?” Your voice was music to his ears. Raspy and sleepy in a way that had him wanting to tuck you into bed with a sweet goodnight kiss.

“Hi.” He barely managed, voice hoarse and jaw hanging open.

“Are you okay?” You asked, shifting your weight where you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, I um-“ He started, losing momentum very quickly. “I didn’t think this far ahead. I’m sorry.”

You bit your lip, stifling back a chuckle. Even in your situation it was impossible not to fall for his loveable awkwardness, just the sheer Spencer-ness of it all. Before you had a chance to second guess yourself you were stepping to the side, holding your door open just a bit wider and gesturing for him to come in. He followed immediately, a precious look of disbelief on his face as you shut the door behind him. It felt weird yet comfortable to have him back in your space. Before the breakup, these walls had seen all of your movie nights and every meal you began to cook together before getting distracted dancing around the kitchen in the glow of the refrigerator light. It had heard every word, every compliment, every joke, every time you laughed or cried together, every soft snore as you slept tangled up in each other’s arms. Welcoming him in felt like welcoming him home.

“I’m sorry to stop by when it’s so late.” He found his voice eventually as he followed you into the living room. “You can tell me to leave if you need to.”

“Don’t be silly.” You smiled, sitting down on the couch. Carefully, he lowered himself beside you, keeping a respectable distance but you caught the way his fingers twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out for you. “I’d never turn you away, Spence.”

Spence. You didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out. But you didn’t take it back.

“I wanted to apologise.” He fought his nerves and looked straight in your eyes, holding your gaze with a serious look that you couldn’t quite place.

“For what?” You tilted your head, unable to pull your eyes away.

“For everything.” The sincerity in his voice made your breath catch in your throat, the emotion in his words unearthing every feeling you thought you’d buried. “For leaving. Especially for how I left.”

“Spencer, I-“

“I thought I was protecting you. I thought that by letting you go I was keeping you safe, that I was doing what was right. But when I saw you yesterday… I realised I still love you. I mean, I knew I still loved you- God did I know- but I think I was denying just how much.” Your heart thudded in your chest, as did his, but he forced himself to keep going. “And maybe it’s selfish but I just can’t keep going around seeing your face everywhere I go, hearing your voice in every book I read, feeling your touch when it’s not there.”

He broke eye contact for just a second, glancing around at the room he’d once called his second home, and when he looked back at you there were tears in his eyes.

“You don’t have to accept my apology,” he continued, voice beginning to hollow, “but I just had to tell you. I had to try.”

To your surprise, there were tears forming in your own eyes. You hadn’t even felt them creeping up on you, no sting in your lash line before the drops were rolling down your cheek. Without thinking, like it was instinct to take care of you, Spencer reached forward to wipe them away and you leaned into his touch like it was second nature. His fingertips brushed against your face, the warmth sending a jolt through you that had you wanting to jump into his arms and kiss him until the break up was completely and utterly forgotten- but a small part of you was still hurting. And that part of you recoiled. You tried to speak, but the words came out hoarse.

“I understand.” You whispered. “It’s okay, Spencer.”

“No, no it’s not.” He insisted, voice low but firm.

“No, it’s not.” You admitted faintly, folding your hands in your lap. “But if you want to fix things… I’m willing to let you try.”

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding, his chest deflating so fast he thought it might collapse in on itself. His fingers twitched again, the nerves shooting through him as he processed your words.

“Thank you.” He breathed, barely audible at all. “Thank you so much. Thank you.” He repeated it over and over again like a prayer. He wasn’t even sure who he was thanking, you or whatever cosmic forces of the universe had decided to grace him with your existence in the first place.

“I’ve missed you too.” You moved along the couch until your knees were touching, and with bated breath you took his shaking hand in yours and admired how perfectly they fit together, like they were moulded just for one another. “I miss you every time I wake up alone from a bad dream and you’re not there to read me back to sleep. I miss you every time I smell coffee and it’s not coming from your mug, from your hands. I miss you all the damn time, Spence.”

He raised your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a kiss so soft yet so full of raw emotion to your knuckles and you realised he was crying too.

“I swear, you’ll never have to miss me again. I’m not going anywhere this time, I promise.” And he meant it. He meant it with every fibre of his being.

“Good.” Was all you could muster. You believed him, and that was all that mattered.

A sentimental silence fell over the room as you both sat with your hands still entwined, except now your head was on his shoulder and he was pressing tender kisses into your hair the way he always used to. After a while, he jolted upright suddenly, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small object wrapped in blue tissue paper, which he carefully ripped off.

A smile pulled at you before you could register it as you saw the little cartoon otters on your favourite mug. You’d left it at his apartment the last time you saw him before the break up and hadn’t had the courage to ask for it back, leaving it behind alongside everything you’d left unsaid.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to say what I planned to,” Spencer started, laughing at himself quietly. “So I thought I’d return your mug. Just incase I needed an excuse as to why I was here.”

You found yourself laughing too, heart blooming with adoration for your silly, awkward genius. “You can keep it.” You mused, resting your head back on his shoulder like it belonged there. “You’ll need it next time I’m at your place.”

Next time. Future tense.

A lovesick grin grew on Spencer’s face as he settled into you, to say he was in love with you would be underselling it. He was completely, inescapably enamoured with you- smitten, besotted, infatuated- there was no word in any language that could describe the depth of the love he felt. With a full heart, he took your hand in his once again and this time he vowed he would never let it go again, no matter how hard the current pulled.

-

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello! I read your Ghost NSFW alphabet and it was amazing!! (Actually I've just been reading a bunch of your posts for the past 3 days your writing it amazing!!) I was wondering if you can do an NSFW alphabet for Cpt.Price please!

Thank you so much, anon! I really appreciate that. Of course you can have a NSFW Alphabet for Price! Enjoy!

written w/ gn!reader

Word Count: 900

nsfw alphabet template

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

A = Aftercare

A staunch cuddler. Price enjoys snuggling after sex, acting as a weighted blanket. He’s all about lazy touches and slow kisses, sprinkling you with soft words of affection as the two of you come down.

B = Body part

An ass man. No question. Price either has his hands on it or touching in some capacity. Positions that allow him to palm your ass as he fucks you are his favorite.

C = Cum

Enjoys seeing the aftermath. Watching his cum leak out of all your holes flames his ego. Spread those legs and/or cheeks. Open your mouth and show him your tongue. He wants to paint you with it.

D = Dirty secret

During his first experience with bondage, Price confidently said he could use rope, but totally lied, and stumbled through it to the point that he gave up and had vanilla sex. (He’s much better at it now.)

E = Experience

Very experienced, and he knows what he wants. Price isn’t afraid to tell you how he likes to be pleasured, and he’s not shy about asking you what you like, or exploring new things with you.

F = Favorite position

Any position that allows him to view your ass as he fucks you. He’ll even take a position that allows him to grip your ass if he can’t view it.

G = Goofy

During sex? No. Price might tease you a bit, but it’s always flirty. He wants you to smile, to enjoy yourself, but when it comes down to it, he’s all business.

H = Hair

Well-groomed but hairy. He has a lovely dusting of dark brown hair across his chest and down his stomach, thickening slightly around his navel where it transforms into a healthy happy trail and a decent bush around the base of his cock.

I = Intimacy

Incredible at intimacy, especially in the moment and during foreplay. The lead up to clothes coming off is hit or miss, but in the act, Price has his full attention on you. Lots of praise and appreciation for your body.

J = Jack off

Not a chronic masturbator, but certainly jerks himself off if you’re not available to take his dick.

K = Kink

Praise, primal, daddy, some forms of impact play, situational public sex

L = Location

A traditional man that likes to be at home while doing the act, but he won’t let an opportunity slip past him. He’s down to fuck at work if it’s a quickie, or take you in the back of his car.

M = Motivation

Physical affection gets him going. Wrap your arms around him, tease the back of his neck with your fingers, trace circles on his back. Intimate touch sends all the blood in his body down to his dick.

N = No

Piss play. Not into it.

O = Oral

Certified muncher/sucker. Price is a giver rather than a receiver though he won’t tell you no if you want to go down on him.

P = Pace

Price is the fast and rough type when he’s the one in charge. He might say sweet things to you, but you can bet he’s fucking your brains out at the exact same time.

Q = Quickie

Always down for a quickie. Hardly matters the time and place. Don’t need to say anything either. Present a hole for him and Price is diving right in.

R = Risk

Totally down to experiment as long as both parties are agreeable to the risk. Price is willing to try anything once but he won’t try something if you’re not into it.

S = Stamina

Decent stamina. He can go a few rounds but give the man some room to breathe between sessions.

T = Toys

Price does not own any toys. If he acquires any, it’s because you bought them, or you were insistent on trying some out. He won’t go out of his way to purchase them.

U = Unfair

Can be a bit of a tease, especially if he feels like edging you, but all of his teasing is really to get you going and turned on.

V = Volume

Price isn’t loud, but the man is a grunter/moaner. When he’s about to come, his eyes are closed and that man is moaning/groaning, completely lost in it.

W = Wild card

Dom!Price enjoys purchasing customized collars for his sub for all occasions. Real leather. Real metal. Engraved. Maybe some gems or diamonds.

X = Xtra

At first, Price didn’t understand the appeal to wearing a mask during sex, but after a few experiences with it, he grew to enjoy it, especially with how much you liked it. But he won’t ever admit that to Ghost or anyone on his team that he tried it out.

Y = Yearning

Price yearns for you all the time. No matter the time of day or night or the day of the week, Price is always thinking about you, and will accept any advances you send his way.

Z = Zzz

As a staunch post-sex cuddler, Price will absolutely crash out after sex quickly. Expect snoring, his arms around you, and don’t think about attempting to wiggle away from him. Any movement will only result in him pulling you close again. Won’t even wake up either.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello again! This time with a request(although you can skip it if you want :p), could you write something about Tenna with a lightener that suffers from stage fright, but he didn't know and ends up having to halt a show to comfort them?

Feel free to tweak the story around whoever you want! Have a nice day :]

Thank you!

........

If there's one thing Tenna wanted more than anything else on his show, it's for the audience and contestants alike to have a good time! If someone isn't, then the "Fun-O-Meter" isn't going up or down, and he can't allow that.

But when you end up in the TV World and get thrown into one of his gameshows unexpectedly...he gets a bit too caught-up in his excitement over having a Lightner on the stage. The first one who's watched him in a long, long time.

Unknowingly, he chose to put you--who has crippling stage fright--under the spotlight as the sole contestant.

You weren't even good at doing class presentations. How could you do this without looking like a fool???

As he's introducing you to the crowd, you see so many demonic-looking creatures, their claws black as the night and their sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights, shouting and cheering incomprehensibly.

You don't know any of them.

You don't see any familiar faces.

Just a sea of strangers.

This was like a dream rapidly turning into your worst nightmare-

"Now! Please give us your name."

"H-Huh?" You focus back on Tenna, who's now looking at you.

"Your name, of course! Just type it in and it'll show up on the podium. We only have a small selection of letters, so pick carefully!"

"Oh! Right..um..okay......ah shoot. I think I messed up.." Immediately, you picked the wrong first letter.

You could feel the stares of everyone there, thinking: 'What a bumbling idiot...can't even spell their own name right...'

Tenna was ready to make a joke about your "identity crisis", but in that moment he notices how genuinely upset you seemed. So he pretends to cough, and the screen resets, allowing you to input your name again.

Still, though, you don't feel any better.

During Round 1, you were terrified to pick the wrong answer on a quiz, and embarrassment creeps over you regardless of the outcome.

He was about to introduce a "physical challenge", but he has a hard time keeping up the act and funny quips as he realizes what's going on with you. Judging from your shaking hands, nervous gaze, the stammers in your voice...

So he cuts to a commercial break and leaves the stage, gesturing for you to follow him to the green room, where there's only a few employees and calm music.

At first, you think you're in trouble...until he speaks.

"I'm sorry, I should have realized it sooner..."

"What..?"

"You weren't having any fun." His antennae droop. "Tell me, what can I do to help you feel more comfortable onstage?"

"Huh?? I..uh...I-I promise I'm fine, Mr. Tenna." You're thrown off by his worry. "I just..get nervous being put on the spot sometimes. That's all."

"Those weren't just nerves, kid. You were trembling. I know stage fright when I see it!" He huffs, before pointing to the couch, his voice calmer now. "Please rest. Enjoy our amenities. I'll call you back once I make some...minor adjustments to the games so they're more enjoyable for you."

You had no chance to argue, as he runs off and doesn't allow you to follow him.

RAMB, who overheard everything, explains that while he might be harsh to his employees, he values your feelings more and wanted you to be comfortable on his show. The happiness of Lightners is all he lived for, so he's gonna do everything he can to ensure you're happy and not terrified.

It makes you feel a little better, knowing he's not some crazy overlord of this Dark World who wanted you to play his games until the end of time.

So you rest and relax, managing to calm your racing heart and overwhelmed brain, until Tenna calls you back to the stage--and you're suddenly nervous again.

But for this "episode", there's only one segment: You and him playing a retro-styled video game that reminds you of one you've beaten back in the Light World. He mentions your delight in overcoming the most difficult challenges, beating the hardest bosses, and finding all the easter eggs--he has full faith in your ability to reenact those accomplishments in this "condensed" version.

Your backs are to the audience, and they aren't as loud as before. In fact, you hardly ever notice them as you play through the game, while Tenna commentates.

Even when you're hit with quizzes based on the lore, you weren't nervous and answered them all correctly.

Suddenly it feels like less of a live televised gameshow and more like a casual hangout with a friend.

You get an S-Rank at the end, and earn lots of points to spend back in the green room's prize machine.

You always felt like you should've gotten over your stage fright by now, with people surrounding you saying "you'll grow out of it" or "don't be a scaredy cat". But now that you knew Tenna was willing to be accommodating, you realize he's not all that bad.

He made you feel comfortable enough to be on his show, and he still got a lot of praises/views from the audience due to your stellar performance. So it's a win-win!

[poofmagictrick]

Thoughts on TADC episode 5

ITS FINALLY HERE. This episode was genuinely soooo worth the wait!! Before the episode drop, I've been theorizing and commenting on what this episode will lead to. So glad to see that goose's writing exceeded my expectations, she did a great job developing mainly jax and ragatha this episode. On that note, THEIR DYNAMIC IS STARTING TO REVEAL ITSELF AND I WAS SO HAPPY WATCHING IT UNFOLD AND DEVELOP THROUGHOUT THE EPISODE AAA

In the episode, Jax seems to warm up to Pomni throughout the whole episode which a lot of people including myself were spot on about that. Jax starts to chill around Pomni and make jokes, not being the usual mean jerk everyone thinks of him as.

Although that adventure was shorter compared to the other adventures cramped together, it stands out so much in terms of character moments for Jax and Ragatha. When Ragatha whispers "not anymore," and the way jax looks at her like she had the audacity to talk.

I theorise that next episode they'll possibly explain what happened to Jax's friend. Not sure if during the intermission time, the door Jax stops at of an ex circus member was possibly his close friends but I can't wait until we get told more about that!!

Anyways, another scene that stood out to me was the bar scene (fooled us all into thinking it was a mafia adventure lol). Where Jax ACTUALLY apologises to Pomni of all members for what he did today. Pomni is taken aback by this similarly to episode 4, the Spudsy's adventure, where it was the 1st time we see them talk 1on1. (Can I just mention I'm so glad we get to see more of Zooble too tho?!? They're able to do something that they once enjoyed in their past life too!). Now the highlight and I'm sure everyone and their mother will be talking about this is the massive lore drop of each of the circus members past lives before being transported to the circus! Except for Kinger and Gangle who we've known have mentioned briefly about what they've done. But I mainly wanna focus on Ragatha's past life and how it ties into her general behavior.

Ok bear with me here cuz I'm gonna ramble endlessly about it lol. So Ragatha mentions having grown up in a financially stable family who owned livestock (which could be a huge farm that's well known which may be why they're fairly well-off). The moment she started to talk about her mother who verbally abused her and guilt tripped her back then, her body starts to tense up. God knows what kind of abuse besides verbal did her mother do to her as it's shown she clearly didn't enjoy remembering it all and even the other circus members including who jax looked really concerned for her.

I related to her so much in this scene because of this, when you grow up with a parent who guilt tripped, verbally abused you, one of the many ways you would cope is to vow to never be like that and be nothing like what your parents were before. So you try to be the opposite of them. While there is nothing wrong with wanting to be diff and prevent yourself from becoming just like your parents, but being nice may not always make you genuine to other people. It's just like what Jax and Gangle have mentioned about Ragatha that she tries too hard to hard and when you tell people they're loved and what not it loses its meaning. When you keep saying these things to people its hard to tell if they're being genuine.

They're probably the only ones to have been the most aware of this coping mechanism that Ragatha uses as a way to cope with the trauma of her verbally abusive mother. Ragatha doesn't know how to connect with the other circus members, so to do that she tries to be nice by helping them, encouraging and many other things. It's kinda like she's almost giving them so much of her love she's afraid they'll stop talking to her the moment she stops being all nice and loving to them. In fact, later in the softball adventure when Ragatha gets to sit together with pomni and have the 3rd (?) heart to heart talk scene in thsi entire episode, Pomni tells her "It's ok to let out your negative emotions sometimes and we all kinda have to be a jerk sometimes."

But Ragatha doesn't want to be like that because it likely just makes her be reminded of her mother back in her past life.

People like Ragatha who tend to be nice to everyone ends up being extremely lonely despite that. But it's kinda sad because ultimately she just wants someone to be close with and connect with someone. She tried with Gangle, possibly Zooble, Jax even though she hates him, Kinger and now Pomni. One could probably say Pomni is aware that Ragatha is tryna warm up to her and get her to be her friend but the way Ragatha and Pomni interact is pretty distant. While Jax the whole epsiode laughs with Pomni and even opens up with her.

I'm gonna credit @zoshizick for this point they made where they theorise Jax and Ragatha will be fighting for Pomni like a toy they want so badly. Not in a romantic sense, but both R&J are incredibly lonely people and just want someone to talk to. That's when the new girl (Pomni) comes into the picture and they both are so desperate to win her attention. For instance in the bar scene when Jax grabs Pomni and says obnoxiously "WOW, the first steps of a budding friendship. Right Ragatha." As if to purposefully annoy her and of course she looks at him like she's about to explode.

I wanna add on and say that Jax and Ragatha know that they hate each other but don't want to admit that they are both two sides of the same coin. It makes their character all the more deeper and complex cuz really who would they both fight for to be their friend? Zooble? She's distant with everybody except for Gangle but they're both already friends so nope. Gangle? She gets bullied by Jax and doesn't like him and she's kinda friends with Ragatha? but she's with her likely because rags defends Gangle from Jax. Kinger? Jax isn't that close with Kinger and just thinks of him as weird and Ragatha is fine with him but wouldn't seem like someone she would open up to like Kinger doesn't remember what they were even talking about 1 second ago unless in darkness. That leaves Pomni, the neutral person in the whole circus who hasn't made any connections yet. I think the next episode will raise the stakes with R&J's cold war of winning Pomni's friendship. While Ragatha does hates Jax, I don't think Jax really hates Ragatha all that much just probs want her to be herself more. Possibly even wanting to get to know her cuz they're not as lonely as they realise they are, just that they refuse to talk it out is all.

I think that's all I gotta say and amazing work from the team, animators and other people who worked on the episode!! I hope ya'll can understand by endless rambling about all of this as I was super hyped about the episode and the day it dropped although a day late to the party haha. Gosh my hands are in pain from typing this long.

[calmcoldevening]

Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Sinclair brothers, Thomas Hewitt and Bubba Sawyer getting sick and their s/o taking care of them and who is very worried asking if they want something or if they are better?

I love what you write, kisses from Brazil🇧🇷🤗

Sick!Slashers x reader

Note: oh thanks luv! im glad you live it!! 🤍🤍

Michael Myers

• He doesn't really care if he gets sick, and he tends to ignore his body's signals. But you can tell. The way he moves slower, like his body is made of lead. The way he breathes heavily even without a mask (rare moments, but they do happen). The way he's less likely to leave the house (but you're honestly happy about it)

• You have to force him to sit down and listen to you. The illness. It's been a long time since he's been sick, even when he was in the mental hospital. Or at least he didn't notice it, because the doctors were quick to respond, so this was new to him.

• You managed to change him into more comfortable clothes, like loose pants and a large t-shirt, and he immediately felt much better, at least now he wasn't restricted in his movements. However, he refused to remove the mask, despite your insistence.

• You just put him to bed and wrapped him in a blanket, and he stared at you with unblinking eyes. Michael wasn't used to being cared for, at least not voluntarily. The doctors took care of him in one way or another, but that was their job. And you... it was like you cared.

• He ate all the chicken soup you made for him and obediently took all the pills. For some reason, he wanted to listen to you and see your satisfied expression. He'll even have some lemon tea, so be it.

• When he had a fever, he wouldn't let you out of the bed. He just grabbed your wrist and stared at you with a silent "Don't leave. Please." At times like these, he felt like a child, and he didn't want to part with his only source of security, you. Plus, the warmth of someone else's body was comforting.

• When you tucked the blanket around him, he tilted his head to the side — that's his own way of saying "thank you."

• When Michael recovers, he immediately returns to his usual routine and disappears into the shadows. But now you're finding more and more little things and treats — that's Michael's way of thanking you for your care. And he wouldn't mind having some more of your chicken soup just for the sake of it.

Jason Voorhees

• You find him in the forest, leaning against a tree, breathing heavily. Of course, you immediately help him to your cabin.

• He looks at you with gratitude as you apply a compress to his forehead, but he is still ashamed of his face without a mask. But your words of reassurance that you like him for who he is really comfort him.

• With one look, you see him apologizing for not being able to protect and take care of you right now.

• When Jason is sick, he often has nightmares. They're so vivid that once, when you were changing his compress, he didn't realize it was you, but instead felt someone else's touch and grabbed his machete. He then spent a long time whining and apologizing to you.

• When he has a fever, he likes to cuddle with you because your body is cool. Your touch on his hot cheeks provides a soothing sensation. The last person who took care of him like this was his mother, so he's really grateful.

• When you leave the cabin (for example, to get firewood for the fireplace or just to go to another cabin), he stares at the door. Jason is afraid that you won't come back or that something will happen to you while he's not there to protect you.

• When he recovers, you can expect a lot of flowers and warm, strong hugs.

Thomas Hewitt

• Thomas doesn't like being sick, which means he can't take care of his family. In principle, he rarely gets sick, so if he does get sick, he feels weak and sluggish, he is ashamed of it. He wants to be a support, a protection for you and his family, this is his duty. Thomas can't afford to be idle for a day.

• When he gets sick, he becomes more moody. He may turn away from the medicine, be mischievous, but when he sees that it really hurts you, he apologizes in a mute way and drinks medicine or warm milk.

• He doesn't want you to get sick too, so when he coughs or sneezes, he turns away from you or goes into another room. If you do get sick, he'll be sad and blame himself.

• He doesn't want to strain you, but when Luda Mae asks you to take care of him, he gives up.

• You'd better get into bed next to him to get him to stay in bed and get some rest. He might even fall asleep while hugging you tightly. Despite the heat of Texas, he's cold, so he pulls you closer and covers you both with a blanket. It's even better if you stroke his hair, it's soothing.

• He sincerely does not understand, so you do not give him ordinary food, but believe that something light is not made from human flesh, but on herbs or animal meat. But it's really delicious. He's generally not picky, and he'll eat anything you cook, absolutely.

• He grumbles, coughs, and gets angry at himself for not being able to work. But deep down, he's pleased that you're the one taking care of him, that you care. It makes his chest feel warm.

Bubba Sawyer

• When Bubba gets sick, all the years of fatigue catch up with him. He becomes moody, slow, and lethargic. He sleeps more than usual and feels like a helpless child.

• He values your care simply because you genuinely love and care for him. His brothers don't provide the same level of support, so he clings to you like a child clings to their mother. Give him a hug, stroke his head, and reassure him that everything is fine.

• In general, he likes it when you worry and take care of him so much, so gradually he starts to not worry so much about his illness. On the contrary, he starts to.. like it.

• Whines and doesn't let you go when you leave to do some housework. Actually, he understands why you have to leave, after all, he can't help you now. But he feels that while he is ill, he has the right to be so capricious and cute.

• After the illness, he will remember for a long time how you took care of him and smile. These memories warm his heart. And in his mind, he has vowed that if you get sick, he will take care of you just as well.

Brahms Heelshire

• He's becoming even more of a child than he already is.

• He's asking you to stay with him all the time, and he doesn't care about food or anything else. He wants to be small, cry from a sore throat and fever, and be pitied.

• He loves when you feed him with a spoon. He'll deliberately pretend to be very, very sick, say his hands are hurting, just so you'll take care of him.

• He enjoys your concern for him, and he'll get sick again for that.

• When he has a fever, he acts like a baby, crying, throwing tantrums, and screaming for you to take away the pain. But he also refuses to take his medicine (because it's disgusting and bitter) and spits it out. But if you give him a little spanking on the butt, he'll drink it like a good boy.

• He refuses to eat soup (but if you feed him, he'll think about it) and demands sweets. Or at least you.

• Sticky and cuddly, he doesn't need anything but you and your warm body next to him. He also wants to take off his mask because it's hot and he can't breathe, but he'll ask you a hundred times if he can take it off and if he's handsome to you.

• Even though he wants to sleep, he'll be cranky and ask you to play for a while longer. "I'm sick, you should do what I want!"

• If he's screaming too much, just show him a syringe with a thick needle, and he'll sleep like a baby. But give him the shot anyway.

• When he's better, he'll pretend to be a little sick for a while, just to have you around..

Sinclair brothers

• You find out that Vincent got sick when he coughs softly into his fist while the two of you were sitting in his basement. And even though he refuses, you force him to go to bed. He's quietly grateful for your care, even though he's still worried that you'll get infected from him.

• Bo gets sick after Vincent. It's not because there's a virus in the city. It's just that Bo was sitting in Vincent's basement on purpose when he noticed how much you cared about his brother. And jealousy is a serious thing. He has had fierce competition with his brother since childhood, so he couldn't help himself.

• Vincent is calm and obedient, he will drink and eat anything you tell him, and even sleep.

• Bo will be a little moody: the tea is too hot, or maybe another blanket? The pill from the head didn't help, please bring another one. When you ask him to sleep, he grabs your hand and asks you to stay in case he gets worse. He's just a great actor.

• Bo will ask you to read aloud so that he falls asleep faster just because he likes your voice. It calms his nerves and bad thoughts.

• Vincent takes off his mask when he's sick, so he's genuinely happy when you don't have disgust on your face because of his appearance. You still look at him with such love and care, it calms him down.

• Vincent is afraid of infecting you, so when you're around, he turns away or buries his nose in the blanket. He's still a little ashamed that he got sick so easily like some kid, but he likes your acceptance.

• Bo requires attention. He's also a big whiner. In the middle of the night, he will come to your room and list in a plaintive voice what hurts him.

• Lester watches all this with a great "I don't give a fuck, I'm just playing with the dog and smoking the weed."

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Drinks And Threesomes

requested?: no pairing(s): john 'soap mactavish x afab!reader x smon 'ghost' riley genre: smut warning(s): threesome, smut, unprotected sex, reader is a virgin, oral (f&m recieving) doggy style, probably the best ever aftercare which has ever been written on this blog, masterbation, fingering, overstimulation, spanking (ass and pussy), orgasm denial, slightly oc!reader (she has a cat, change it if you want), simon not being a cat person (he calls reader's cat a rat), a LOT of mentions about sex before it acc happens, reader is rlly living the y/n life icl, dom!simon, dom!johnny, sub!reader, light choking, lap dancing (soap gets a lap dance from reader), breast-play, dry humping, kinda pervy characters icl, mentions of porn, johnny whimpers like once, reader is insecure about how her titties sit (dont be insecure about them my loves, you are all perfect), finger sucking, degredation, praise at the end, not proof-read (i was writing this at 1am and posted it today), hair pulling, squirting summary: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 word count: 5.1k (i cooked bro) a/n: first ever threesome on this blog and the longest fic i have written thus far. remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! -Cilla (p.s. i ate this up)

it was another sunday, the night before you went back on deployment with the rest of tf141. you were excited, but albeit nervous. price had debriefed you all and told you it would be an especially hard mission. he hadn’t told you what the goal was or what you would be doing while you were gone.

since it was so close to deployment time, you were all cutting down on alcohol since you all wanted to stay healthy. it was a tradition at this point for you, ghost and soap to go out for mocktails and a meal. simon went begrudgingly, only because you and johnny had begged him oh-so nicely to go with you both. he didn’t know why he agreed, but as much as he acted like he didn’t, he did enjoy being there with you both.

today was like no other, you were all laughing over drinks with no alcohol and the best burgers you had ever had in all of your lives put together. but this time, johnny was going on about a recent rendezvous he had with a woman a few nights prior. he was going into a lot of detail for someone who was usually so secret about his love and sex life.

as he was talking about the things he had done to her (eating her out, fucking her in doggy, etc) something twisted in your gut. you felt jealous, but also something else. you didn’t know how you felt, but one thing you certainly felt was jealousy. you squirmed in your seat as you chewed on the straw of your finished drink.

simon was an observant man. and he was also sitting next to you. he had seen you squirming in your seat, and he was definitely smirking under that stupid ghost mask he always wore. however, johnny didn’t realise how… ‘uncomfortable’ you were getting. he kept talking about what he had done to her, and god was it filthy.

you had always found johnny and simon rather attractive, especially since you had always seen them on duty, their big arms holding the guns they could very much end a life with. they could bith very much end lives with how massive their biceps were, and sometimes they did. you wondered sometimes what it would be like if they squished you in-between their biceps, how it would feel when you slept on them, how it would feel when you bit into them due to the immense pleasure they were giving you.

you saw almost every part of them. their chests, their abs, their v-lines, their massive biceps, their happy trails, every part of them. you saw them shirtless every single time you were laying low at a safe house during a mission. you went practically crazy every time, and almost every time, you ended up with your hands stuffed inside of your panties. you were never able to come from it. you needed more than just your nimble fingers playing with your clit.

you were broken out of your daydream when you felt a nudge. simon was looking down at you from where he sat. you were now slightly slumped in your chair, johnny still hadn’t stopped ranting about his one night stand with the girl he didn’t remember the name of.

“you alrigh’ lovie?” he asks gruffly, his chest moving with every word, you watched it move. his eyes squinted as you did so. he was either grinning or his brows were furrowed, either one would still make him look hot. you had only seen him without his mask once.

you remember it clearly. he was getting dressed after a shower. his mask was off as he didn’t expect anyone to walk into the room unannounced. you walked in as you had just gotten to the safe house after being separated on the mission. you were wanting to ask him what he thought about the choice johnny had made for dinner that night when you saw he had no mask on. your mouth fell completely open. you stood there and stared at him for a good few minutes before he finally snapped you out of your daze.

“like what you see, lovie?” he asked. and god, you did. his blue eyes, pale lashes. god, he looked amazing. you couldn’t even speak. and you didn’t.

you stood there and gawked until you heard soap bounding up the stairs. simon put his mask back on, though he still remained shirtless. you had your phone still in your hand, although it had turned off god knows how long ago.

“wha’s takin’ so long, bon? are we gettin’ a chippy or not simon, I fancy a kebab so it better be a yes” soap stood next to you in the doorway. you and simon stared into each other’s eyes for a moment longer, sharing something of understanding.

“lovie was just giving me ideas on what to order” johnny obviously took that to his advantage and began to talk about what was the best things to get from a chip shop.

eventually you had all come to a conclusion on what you wanted, and simon offered to go out and get the chippy. obviously, you wouldn’t forget what happened with johnny after that.

simon snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, bringing you back to the covert of the pub. you had all finished eating a while ago, and you just continued to chew on the plastic (shocker) straw of your mocktail.

“you alrigh’ bon? you’re very quiet tonight” soap observed (another shocker). you didn’t say anything and only nodded. he furrowed his brows, “ye sure, bon, you would’ve usually chewed my head off abou’ worrying about you by now” he asks, his tone slightly teasing.

“i’m fine, really, just thinking about what i’m gonna do when i get home tonight” it was a white lie. you were wet and you knew it, but you refrained from rubbing your thighs together as you felt it would make it a lot more obvious.

“are ya not gonna be a crazy cat lady when you get home?” he teases. you glare at him.

“i have one cat. one. besides, he’s in the catery for a while until i get back from deployment” you say, putting your empty mocktail glass down on the table in front of you. you fold your arms.

“wow, never woulda thought you would put that rat somewhere where he would be away from you for a long time” simon chuckles, you thwack his arm.

“i’m not gonna leave him for however many weeks without being looked after by someone nice” you defend “and he’s not a rat” you add pointedly.

“alrigh’ bon, enough abou’ the cat. what are you doing tonight?” soap interjected.

“dunno, probably just watch a movie. or a kids show to make me feel better about the fact we’ll be going god knows where doing god knows what for around a month” you speak, and as you finished, you looked down at where your hands were in your lap. you started picking at the skin around your nail.

simon discreetly placed a hand over your knee, stopping it from bouncing. you smiled appreciatively.

“how’s abou’ you come stay with me and simon for the night, bon? we was goin’ to stay together tonight anyway since we can jus’ get up and go tomorrow mornin’ it would be no trouble if you decided to stay. really bon” his voice started off uncertain, but by the time he reached the end of it, it sounded like he was pleading you.

“i would, really, i would, but my bag is at my house and i-“ soap cuts you off.

“we can go get it before we go over to mine. bon, i know you’re worried about the mission and what better stress relief than to stay with your best friends in the whole world” he says with that massive shit-eating grin on his face.

“i’m not sure simon is my best friend. especially not after he called dusty a rat” you say with a small smile after thinking for a couple of minutes. simon pats your hand that he was still sort-of holding.

“well, i didn’ hear a ‘no,’ did you, simon?” he turns to the man with the mask.

“i didn’ either, johnny” your smile got wider at the response simon gave.

“well, its sorted then, sleepover!” johnny cheers louder than he probably should have for a middle-aged military man. luckily, people were to engrossed in their own conversations to nosey over at your conversation.

you didn’t realise when, but somehow the bill had come over, you thought maybe simon had called it over while you were talking with johnny about your ‘sleepover’. but before you even tried to open your purse to pay your share of the bill, simon grabbed it and put it back into your bag. you furrowed your brows.

“what good gentlemen would we be if we didn’ pay the bill for our little bon?” soap spoke up, placing some cash on the bill, simon followed suit and put some more cash on the bill. both of them out on more than enough to cover everyone’s food and at least a twenty pound tip.

“home time” simon says as he gets up. you grabbed your bag before following behind the two men who were walking in a single-file line.

you eventually got back to soap’s car. you sat in the back while the two large men piled into the front and johnny started driving. it wasn’t long before you were back at your house, asking before you left the car if there was anything else you should bring with you other than your bag.

“only those nice little brownies you make, bonnie” you smile softly and jog towards your house, unlocking the door and going to the kitchen, grabbing a small plastic box and putting the rest of the brownies you had made inside of it. you grabbed your pink duffle you left by the door. you locked the door and made your way back to johnny’s car. both of the men were staring intently as you made your way back.

you got into the back of the car and rested the box of brownies on the seat next to you, johnny turned back and grinned at you.

“the best bon in the whole world” he grinned before turning his head back on the road and drove to his house. it was fairly far away from your house, and you had always been someone who was quickly able to fall asleep in cars.

you fell asleep fairly quick, and you had a weird dream. or rather, maybe you could call it a flashback.

the night simon left for the chippy that johnny had pre-ordered (you all chipped in with the bill, well, you tried to. they didn’t want your money even when you insisted), you were sat on the counter in the kitchen. you were sat sipping on some lemonade in nothing but johnny’s oversized tee and some skimpy knickers when johnny walked into the kitchen.

your legs were in the way of the cabinet johnny needed to get to in order to get to the non-alcoholic drinks you had stored. but instead of being a normal person and asking you if you could move your legs so he could get a drink, he spread them.

but then again, it was johnny, what did you expect? you were flushed when johnny patted your thigh and said a small, ‘thanks bon’ before he left to go drink his drink in the lounge. you never forgot about that, especially that night when your slipped your hand into your panties and failed to make yourself come for the umpteenth time in your life.

you only woke up when you were in someone’s arms, your cheek pressed against that someone’s chest. you opened your eyes and looked up at who is was. you were met with a ghost mask and concentrated eyes, not looking at you, but the way forwards. you closed your eyes again and squished your cheek more against simon’s chest.

soon, you were layed down on what you assumed was johnny’s sofa. you pretended to be asleep for a little while longer until you heard the tv turn on. it was a random tv show that was on way past a child’s bed time, and because they still thought you were asleep, it was on a very low volume. you opened your eyes and peeked at what tv show it was.

you eventually got engrossed in the tv and was fully awake watching it. you assumed the two other men knew you were awake, but your assumptions were wrong when they started talking. about you.

“simon?” johnny asked, simon grunted gruffly in response, “why’d bon get so quiet after i started talking about having sex with that lass?” he was so ignorant it almost hurt, simon shot him a sideways glance.

“maybe because she wanted to be in her place” simon shrugged. you were already rigid, but somehow you managed to become more stiff.

“what? i always though’ bon wan’ed to have sex with you. that’s why i laid off off her” you almost rolled your eyes at his foolishness. almost.

simon looked over at you. that’s when you knew you were busted.

“mornin’ lovie” simon drawled. you gulped as you took in how he was sat. legs spread, an obvious tent in his pants. since simon was fairly comfortable with you and johnny, he also didn’t have his mask on. you could see how his face darkened when he took in that you were fully awake.

you sat up and stretched.

“is it true?” johnny spoke up from where he was sat. his ankle was resting on his other knee, his large bicep laying along the back of the sofa, letting his elbow downwards dangle from the back of the chair.

“is what true?” you tried to play innocent.

“oh, come on, bon. don’t try to be all innocent. did you want to be in her place? the girl i was fucking” he said it so plainly, so seriously that you flushed red and shuffled where you were sat.

“does it matter?” you ask, avoiding both men’s gazes and instead looking and fiddling with your fingers.

you were so busy playing with your own fingers that you didn’t realise that someone else’s had begun to lift your chin. the two men stood directly in front of you, making you have to crane your head fully to look up at them.

“yes, it does” simon said gruffly.

“because we can make it happen if you wan’ us to fuck you, bon” johnny husks. it was his fingers that had lifted your chin, and they were beginning to trail down to your neck.

“we can fuck you good. make you cum all over our fingers, faces and cocks- so good you won’t want to be fucked by anyone else after we’ve done with you” simon lusts next to him.

you squeeze your eyes shut. they didn’t know you were still a virgin, you never shared anything about your sex life, not to anyone. it was now or never to tell them, you squeeze your eyes shut.

“i’m a virgin” you practically squeak, and when you opened your eyes again, looking up at the two men in front of you through your lashes, they were well and truly gone. well, mentally.

“oh fuck” johnny almost moans, “you tellin’ me that tigh’ little pussy hasn’t been fucked by anyone? haven’t even made yerself come?”

“i’ve tried, but it never worked” you say shyly, a faint blush creeping up your neck, painting your ears and cheeks a shade of light-ish red.

“what did you think about when you tried, lovie?” simon spoke up.

“you two” you blush harder, the light red now turning almost a wine-red colour.

“oh fuck” this time johnny did moan, the bulge in his cargo pants becoming more and more prominent. “you know how to lap dance, bon?” it was an unexpected question, so unexpected that you thought you turned redder, if that was even possible.

you didn’t trust yourself with words, you knew you would just become a stuttering and stumbling mess, so you let yourself shake your head.

“tha’s alrigh’ lovie, johnny‘ll show you” simon drawled.

as johnny sat down, you were practically hauled onto his lap by simon. johnny’s hands instantly found your hips, kneading, squeezing and guiding. out of your peripheral, you saw simon sit down not that far away from where the both of you were sat, having a clear picture of the two of you. johnny dragged your hips down until your barely clothed pussy came into contact with his bulge. you gasped and your hips jerked, but they jerked downwards, applying more pressure down onto his clothed cock.

“oh fuck, bon, yer makin’ me so hard” he rasps from beneath you. letting his head fall onto the back of the couch, his throat bobbing with a swallow.

he continued to move your hips, moving them in a circular motion. you were now wishing you had worn better panties instead of your skimpy light pink thong. at least they made your ass look good.

you glanced over at simon, which proved to not be a good idea at all. he was palming himself with a look in his eyes, watching the both of you with the darkest most lustful look in his eyes. it made your stomach flutter, hips stutter, but your stomach burn with confidence. johnny’s hand was now travelling up your body to your breasts. he was now watching you too, hypnotised, transfixed.

he gave you a look when his hand hovered above your breast. you nodded and he instantly began fondling with it. grasping, pulling, pinching. you were out of your mind, and with your new-found confidence? you felt almost unstoppable.

you took control, guiding your hips in a seductive way, wiggling them, grinding down on johnny with such force he actually whimpered. your ego was growing within the second. johnny’s other hand began to also travel up your body, and when your thought he was going to play with your other tit, he kept moving it upwards, around the collum of your throat. he squeezed slightly, not enough to cut off your oxygen all together, but enough to make a statement.

you continued to grind against johnny’s cock. at some point, you even threw your head back for dramatic effect.

that was until you were hoisted up over someone’s shoulder, your ass given a small slap when you instinctively kick. it was simon. you could tell by the blond hair. you looked up and saw that johnny was following and that simon was taking you upstairs.

you didn’t know where you were until simon threw you down onto what you knew had to be a mattress. nobody moved for a few seconds until you spoke up.

“what’re we doing up here?” you barely had time to get your words out before someone’s mouth was on yours. you instantly melted into it, tugging whoever’s hair that was kissing you. soon enough, your mouth was pulled away from the mystery person’s and another mouth was placed on yours. you couldn’t tell, but you had a sneaking suspicion you were kissing simon first before johnny wanted a turn.

who you thought was simon began to kiss down your body until he needed to pull the sundress you had on, off. johnny (you think) helped pull off the sundress before reaching over to the nighstand and turning on a lamp so everyone could see better. your suspicions were right when you looked up and saw johnny hovering over you with red lips and simon was down in-between your thighs.

“oh fuck” this time it was simon’s turn to groan. “these panties are the best fucking thing i’ve ever seen on you, lovie” he said lowly, kissing the inside of your thighs, wrapping his arms around them, “gonna keep these on while i make out with this pretty cunt, okay lovie?” johnny was watching the whole exchange before looking down at your panties.

you saw his eyes close and he took a deep breath, very clearly fighting the urge to take over from simon and ravage you until you were begging for him to stop. luckily, you didn’t have to wait much longer after a comment simon made about being drenched that its soaked through your panties before he moved the thin pink fabric aside, spread your legs and put his mouth on you.

he licked a large stripe up your cunt. from your hole to your clit, giving his tongue a flick when it got there. your hips jolted and hands flew to simon’s hair as he did so, a silent prayer, urging him to keep going. you honestly barely paid any attention to the fact that you were almost fully naked in front of the two men until johnny started suckling on one of your tits. you didn’t like the way your tits sat.

you had watched porn, obviously, you were curious. and whenever you saw a female’s tits, they always sat so nicely. yours didn’t, and you felt insecure about it. simon never stopped devouring you, not listening to the conversation you and johnny were having and instead focusing on making you feel good, plunging a couple of fingers in occasionally and scissoring them as well as curling them into a really good place.

“i- oh fuck- i know they don’t sit nicely-“ johnny looked up at you as you spoke, never disconnecting his lips from your nipple, but he looked at you curiously. “they don’t sit as nicely as other girls’ tits do- i don’t like how they sit-oh fuck, simon keep going”

“no, simon, don’t keep going” johnny sat up with furrowed brows. simon stopped sucking your clit with a wet pop.

“you should taste her johnny, so sweet” simon wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sucking on the fingers he had just taken out of you.

“how do you think her tits look?” johnny asks, staring down at you intently. you try to sit up, but johnny placing his hand on your throat stopped you. you laid back down.

“they look perfect, why?”

“she doesn’t think they do”

simons eyes widen, you sigh.

you were then lifted up, turned around and forced on your hands and knees.

“simon, you fuck ‘er mouth. make sure she swallows and makes you come before she gets to. keep ‘er quiet from saying absolute bullshi’” you try to protest, but before you could even make a sound, simon’s cock was shoved down your throat.

he groans and keeps your head steady while he made sure you weren’t going to gag anymore. johnny then leaned down and ripped your panties straight off, discarding them somewhere in the room.

“they were my favourite panties” simon says through a groan as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“you never saw her in any others” johnny says pointedly before leaning down for his mouth to become level with your cunt.

“they were still my favourite” you moan around simon’s cock as johnny shoved his full face into your pussy, thrusting his tongue inside of you, hitting all the right places that make you moan and gasp around simon’s cock, making him pull your hair and groan back.

you didn’t know how long it would take to make simon come, but you knew by how johnny decided to make him fuck your mouth, he would last a while. johnny had already denied you an orgasm three times and you were beginning to feel hopeless.

and he did, every time you began to feel some kind of knot forming in your stomach, it would simmer away simply because johnny took his mouth away as his best mate hadn’t come in your mouth yet. simon gave you little to no warning when he was about to come.

the thrusting into your mouth became shallow and sloppy, you thought he was close, and he was. simon came with a low groan, spilling every little drop into your mouth. you swallowed instantly, since you knew johnny said if you swallowed and made him come that you could come.

simon pulled his cock out of your mouth, prying your mouth open with his fingers, looking to make sure you had swallowed every drop.

“how did it taste?” simon asks lowly, johnny was behind you, slowly rubbing circles on your clit.

“salty” you reply softly, almost gagging as simon shoved his fingers down your throat.

“she can come now” simon agreed along with johnny.

johnny got back to it, licking your clit, sucking and teasing, all the while, simon had his fingers in your mouth, making you such and gag on them. luckily, it didn’t take long before you felt the coil beginning to tighten in your lower stomach you felt unreal as you let go.

you let out an outright pornographic moan as you came on johnny’s tongue. your saliva dripped down simon’s hand, your legs were shaking as you came, your first ever orgasm.

when you came down from your high, you didn’t have long to adjust to being back before a cock was nudging at your hole.

“can i fuck you while johnny fucks your little mouth? please lovie, need to feel you wrap around my cock so well” simon practically begs.

“yes-oh please fuck me” you practically spread your legs a little, the two men chuckle as you do so.

you didn’t look down at simon’s cock as it entered your hole. it was full, and it burned as it stretched you out, johnny also gave you a couple of seconds before he opened your mouth, letting you take his cock into your mouth. you gagged as it hit the back of your throat. it was definitely big. like simon’s.

simon didn’t move until you were ready. you nodded slightly, moving johnny’s cock further into your mouth. you gagged, but it soon turned into a moan when simon slid his cock almost entirely out of your hole before slamming it back inside, making you take more of johnny’s cock into your mouth.

“oh god” you moan around johnny’s cock.

“not god, just simon and johnny, lovie” simon retorted.

“shouldn’ talk with yer mouth open, bon. ‘s not very polite” the scot pipes up.

“you’re right, johnny. maybe we should teach our girl some manners” simon coos, running a hand lightly down your back before slapping your ass harshly.

you yelped and jolted forwards onto the cock in your mouth, you barely had time to recover before you felt a hand come down on your clit. you were still sensitive from before, so you squeaked and your hips jolted away from the man who had just slapped your pussy.

you felt a few more spanks on your pussy and ass. each one as unexpected as the others before simon began to piston his cock in and out of your hole. your pussy was tight around his cock, he told you so. as did the squelching noises in the room. you were moaning, drooling, whining and completely in bliss as you tried to make johnny feel good.

“oh, just like tha’ bon” johnny moans out, gripping your hair when you did something right. you didn’t know what, so you let johnny take more of the lead.

they both moved in tandem, the only thing you were doing was making pathetic little noises, as well as occasionally bringing a hand up to cup and massage johnny’s balls.

you didn’t know how much longer you could last, especially not when simon had then reached forwards and began to fondle with your clit with his ring and middle finger. the lewd squelching sounds were bouncing off of the walls of the house. it was times like theses where you were happy that johnny lived in a semi-detached house so his neighbours would not have to look at you differently.

you couldn’t give any warning about your oncoming orgasm, partly because you didn’t know it was about to happen yourself. but before you knew it, you had screamed out, the sound muffled by johnny’s cock, but still loud enough that the two men had heard.

you were coming down from your high when you felt liquid dripping down both of your thighs. you were completely soaked, and you could say the same for the bed sheets.

“so pretty, lovie, so fucking pretty. squirting around my cock like that for me? oh i’m gonna fucking come, you’re so fucking pretty with your juices dripping down your thighs like a dirty little slut, oh, you fucking like that, don’t you?” simon’s thrusts were growing more sloppy, but harder at the same time, working you through your orgasm. “i’m gonna come, gonna come all over this pussy, paint it with my come-oh fuck, i’m coming” simon says through gritted teeth.

“oh i’m coming too- fuck, gonna swallow my come, paint your mouth all white with it- oh fuck” both men tensed around the same time, simon pulling out and spraying his come all over your pussy, whereas johnny came down your throat.

you eagerly swallowed again, it was almost the same taste as simon’s, but a bit different.

when you all caught your breath, johnny spoke up first.

“shower?” simon nodded and so did you.

both men helped you onto your feet and helped you to the bathroom. since johnny didn’t have a bath in any of his bathrooms (crazy, right?) you had to make do with a shower.

both men helped you stay upright as they both cleaned you, johnny wiping your cunt in order to keep it clean while simon washed your hair. you then cleaned the two men off, and got out of the shower.

the men let you have your privacy while you peed (you read it somewhere, don’t judge a girl, it’s what you’re meant to do, okay?) and they changed the bed due to your most recent orgasm, and simon’s.

and then, you were all comfortable in bed, your head resting against simon’s chest. you were laying on your side as johnny cuddled you from behind.

“that was good” you whisper with a yawn.

“yeah? who was better, me or simon?” johnny asked jokingly, kissing your shoulder. simon shot him a glare and instinctively pulled you closer. “oh come on, we know it was me. i gave her first ever orgasm”

“i made her squirt” simon adds pointedly.

the scot went in a huff, but still held you anyways, you didn’t hear them bickering, you were already asleep and off in dreamland where scots and englishmen weren’t fighting over who was better at fucking you.

[tyranasauruslex]

Late Night Azris musings…

Thinking about how Azriel realistically should be mute due to the lack of exposure to language in his childhood - an hour a week with his mother is not sufficient enough to learn language fluently. If children don't learn to speak by age 7 then it's likely they will never be able to. His shadows speak to him in his head and he was locked in a basement for 23 hours a day so he would have nobody to talk to out loud.

Rhysand and Cassian used to beat him up to try and get him to talk so he spent at least a year without speaking once he got to the war camps - missed opportunity to explore mutism via trauma or the afore mentioned lack of speech. He speaks so little anyway so I'm fully HC that he has selective mutism.

So Azriel teaches himself sign language which the others learn but because he can hear perfectly fine, they often forget and he ends up writing most things down. Azriel, who is just happy to be out of the basement, tries not to take it to heart. He's grown used to people fumbling, the hesitations, the awkward silences.

Then along comes Eris who spends the next 500 years trying to figure out which version of sign language Azriel uses and then teaching it to himself. He's shockingly bad at it at first, to the point where Azriel thinks he's making fun of him and flies off in an icy rage. Eris' persists though and tracks Azriel's hands when he's signing, another bad move because it looks like he's staring at the scars. He gets better when they're stuck together on spying missions, starts asking how to sign certain words, how to move his hands correctly. After a few glasses of wine when they're stuck laying low in a human village he gets Azriel to show him all signs for dirty words. After a while Eris doesn't even speak out loud to him any more, it's all signed in what begins to feel like their own special language.

In a moment of brevity Eris signs "can I kiss you?" and then later "can I fuck you?" Azriel signs yes for both. When the mating bonds snaps into place Azriel admits that he never learnt the sign for it, believing that he was too damaged, too unworthy to be someone's mate. They make their own sign for it instead, something soft, and secret and safe.

[bewitched-hours]

HAIII omg !! sky anon here— the way you describe the reader's skills and abilities were top tier and even close to canon on how the people of sky do their own things lolll

and that you also played sky before is touché,,!!! I've just thought about it now — if it isn't much of a hassle or bother, but what would their relationship be like with guest 1337 and 007n7 ?? ( ﾟεﾟ；)

like — for n7, since reader restores all their existence based on light or flame, wouldn't they be technically immune to the first hits of flame from his son c00lkid? qahaha !!! unless there's some wired coding round here.. (damn you spectre!!)

Oooo, definitely doing this one with headcanons because I have a couple thoughts on this that I can't really piece together well enough but the thought's pretty good! Imma mark this x reader but platonically this time, though I can do romantic if you want-

Let's give reader She/They again~

Guest 1337

He was shocked to say the least but grateful whenever you helped him or the team.

He once invited you to sit with him when everyone decided to try roasting marshmallows. He had to teach you what marshmallows even were and found it funny to see you struggle with the concept of heated food against your tongue. Though he did apologize later for laughing...

Sometimes you asked him for some quiet time and he'd bring you to your cabin and make sure you were undisturbed for a while.

He's definitely confided in you about his worries for his wife and child back home. You could only voice concern for the moths but knew they could hold up against a Krill.

Speaking of Krills, you once explained their existence and look to him and he looked at you like he just saw a ghost. You definitely gave him nightmares with your description and we're talking about a man who has been in the military...

You once voiced that water and total darkness were weaknesses of yours because of your flame and light. He's made arrangements with the others since to make sure the cabin doesn't get completely dark or drenched whenever there was the rare case of rain.

He's definitely given you his jacket on multiple occasions to shield you from water. You remind him a little of home and he vows to protect that (both metaphorical and literal) light that gives him even a flicker of hope.

007n7

He was definitely surprised to say the least, especially when you tanked a hit from his own kid for the first round he saw you in action for. You'd take damage but the fire almost instantly allowed you to regenerate.

You were trying to help him out, considering you only knew hatred for creatures like the Krill. But people could always be redeemed in your eyes, which shocked him.

He wasn't quick to open up but after seeing you protect him without any incentive? He at least allowed you the knowledge of knowing you protected him from his own kid there.

You were shocked but went out of your way to try and comfort him. It made things difficult for him when he tried to push you away.

You didn't care what the others said about him and you made it clear with both words and actions, eventually drilling it into his head. And boy, was he grateful you were so patient.

You two could be called besties on some degree.

Sometimes you bring him gifts, sometimes he brings you whatever he can offer. Neither of you find any problems and you get to have a little collection of gifts that you'll be proudly displaying back home... Whenever you find a way out...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[luvtak]

samson ❁ lfx x gn!reader

it’s 12 minutes till your birthday, and you’re reminiscing on falling in love <3

❁ tw/genre fluff! just sweet lovers being sweet, what can i say its what i do best! reader is said to be a year younger than felix. unedited.

❁ w/c 1037

❁ a/n its been months and months since i’ve written anything, but i’m finally free for the summer!! i’m hoping to write a bunch so i hope you like this one and watch for all the others!! ily always <3 happy reading!!

masterlist

it all started with a smile; a warm glinting thing that brought goosebumps to your skin, and butterflies in your belly.

You saw him from across the room, the first party of the summer in full force—music blasting and bad decisions forming—and the boy in the corner, shining with golden sunlight and a midnight grin.

His eyes were remembering his last laugh, crescent moons twinkling on beat with the music. The song’s refrain repeating dirty words and pretty fantasies, all while this beautiful boy looked over at you.

You remember thinking he was beautiful, not merely hot or good looking, but beautiful…

What would it be like to be loved by this boy?

He was really truly lovely, and he was looking at you. He can see how he walked, his hips swaying as he moved his body to you, shaking hands and blowing kisses at his friends nearby. He was loved that much was obvious, filling up on affection from everyone he passed, but still he was staring at you.

Your heart’s song filled your ears and his toothy grin blinded, but still you couldn’t look away—breath getting heavier the closer he got to you. The memory of the party is hazy… friends and ex lovers dancing and drinking, laughing and lying… But the memory of the first time you saw Felix lives in your head like a recorded re-run.

“Hi,” he told you, “D’ya come here often?”

He said it with the sweetest voice, barely recognizing how cheesy it was, but still you sighed… this pretty boy and his pretty voice…

He spoke to you all night, hand on your thigh and eyes alight with mischief. You might’ve fallen in love right then, sinking into infatuation like a worn out couch. He was so familiar, like a dream you’d had once, or a dream of a dream…

You remember all this, yet you still can’t believe he’s in bed with you now, curled around you like a sleepy house cat—as warm and inviting as your childhood blankets.

“I can’t believe it's almost your birthday…” He tells you, “you’re so old now.”

“Felix!” you say, laughing even while reprimanding.

“What?! you were just a baby when we met, now you’re an old broad.”

“Well, if I’m old then you’re ancient—don’t forget you robbed the cradle.” You tell him, laughing at his distraught pout.

“Baby, I’m only a year older than you,” He cries, holding you tighter through his crocodile tears.

Your giggles are misplaced in your dark room, the only light coming from the fairy nightlight Felix insisted you bought. Your skin is hot underneath the layers of clothes and your boyfriend’s warm body, but still you move closer to him—snuggling into his hold.

“I can’t believe my baby is this mean to me, but I’ll let it go since your birthday is in 12 minutes…”

“How kind of you,” you say, “it’s almost like you love me…”

“Yeah, yeah” Felix says, but he does love you—with every atom that makes up his physical body.

Ever since he saw you, he knew it, believing in love at first sight as soon as he saw you in your party clothes. He remembers his heart stuttering in his chest, the way his ears burned—he fell in love then, but he knows he needs you now. Needs you like a plant needs sun and water, like you’re his basic needs come to life.

“Do you ever think about it?” He asks, “That first night we met?” Felix sounds nervous, which is silly really—why would he ever need to be nervous with you?

“All the time,” you tell him, “I think it’s my favorite memory.”

It's his too—he’s been thinking about it a lot lately, your face smiling up at him… his hands burning with the need to touch you. Everything was new and slightly forbidden, coated in impropriety and illicit fantasies. He loves that memory, the moment he knew he had to be yours, but he thinks he may love this moment more…

Laying in bed with you, two hearts in one shelter, your hands rubbing at his back with loving familiarity rather than an exciting caress. Yes, meetings are always magic, but knowing you inside out and front and back sure is better. You’re his, your heart lives in his chest cavity and beats next to his—there is no insecurity or beginning giggles, he loves you with the stability of a hundred armys. That first moment was his favorite memory, but now there's this: you in your jammies making fun of him, counting down the minutes until your birthday.

“I think your birthday is my favorite day of the year,” He says, voice deep with sleepy thoughts.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I love seeing you happy—plus, it reminds me that you’re here, that I get to love you and celebrate you… It’s my favorite thing to do you know,”

“Do what, honey?”

“Love you.” His voice is honey and his smile is torture, shining down at you with a look that tells you he knows what he’s doing. “Four more minutes now.”

God you love him, you’re silly sweet boy—how treacherous it is to love him, to feel your heart trying to squeeze out of your rib cage and break into his. Loving him is sublime: terrible and powerful, beautiful and ugly; loving him is everything you’ve ever wanted, and the only thing you need. Even while he crushes your weight with his, even when he starts teasing you about all your embarrassing moments this year—counting one by one till he gets to your age.

“You’re such a menace , I don’t know why I put up with you.” You say, but you’re kissing him, pressing your lips to his after every humiliating moment he brings up. “Thirty more seconds!”

He grins, prettier than anything you’ve ever seen, and starts singing you into your new year. Each ‘happy birthday’ in a different funny voice, with a kiss to end each verse.

“Happy birthday, my baby love.” He whispers, sweet and sultry like chocolate cake. “Can I give you your present now?” he asks, eyes lighting up with familiar trouble, and you know—with everything in you—you’ll never get enough of him.

[inkydelusions]

happy birthday - 1.9k

summary: birthday cakes and frog headbands... spencer and you put up the cutest little birthday party for your pretty baby girl. c.warning: fem!reader. talks of pregnancy. suggestive ? maybe? if you squint your eyes and look at it from afar. overall it’s just girldad!spencer being the perfect dad and the perfect man. a/n: i’ve been reading a lot of dad!spencer content lately and couldn’t help myself but to write this little fluffy blurb. consider this my application for the girldad!spencer fan club

the kitchen window is wide open and a soft spring breeze makes the cream-colored curtains dance swiftly. humming, you pour a mixture of flour and some other ingredients in a bowl, trying to follow the instructions written in the cooking book that’s open in front of you. you’ve never been particularly good at baking, but you thought that today’s occasion was worth it.

today, your daughter turns three years old, and you’re set to bake her the best cake ever known to men. or, at least, you’ll try. you’re going over the fifth step on the recipe one more time when there’s burst of giggles and stomps coming from the hallway.

you and spencer live in a small department in the city, the same where he used to live before he met you. it has two rooms, a small living room and an even smaller, but cozy, kitchen with a window that opens to a great, noisy avenue. it’s not your typical big, flashy family house, but it is a home.

there are toys around every corner, and the fridge is plastered in pictures of the three of you, as well as coloring pages and doodles in every color of the rainbow. there are two sets of blankets hanging on the back of the couch; a big, wooly one, and a smaller one made of patchwork in green tones—you made it while you were pregnant with your baby girl, crocheting a small square every day for a couple of months. the dishes are mismatched, and there’s a splatter of pink or green in every piece of clutter you own. a tiny pink fork, a big, twirly green spoon. there are doodles on the shower wall, too. as well as a special set of aquatic toys to use as bribe on the nights when your daughter feels like a shower is the closest thing to torture.

the apartment may be small, but you love the suffocating love that emanates from every corner.

when you look up from the mass of eggs and flour inside the mixing bowl you see spencer and your kid standing on the threshold. he’s holding her in his arms, a wide smile on his lips as she sings a song none of you recognize because her words are barely understandable.

“how is it going?” spencer asks, walking towards you.

with the three of you in the kitchen, there’s no room to move, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no other place you’d like to be right now.

“i think i missed a step, so right now i’m just free-styling it.”

he laughs, tilting his head back, and your daughter laughs with him. as usual, his daddy’s happiness makes her beam with joy. when you take a closer look at them as they smile and laugh together you realize just how similar they are. the way your little girl’s nose wrinkles when she grins is the same as spencer’s. and that mischievous glint in her eyes when she’s about to say something she knows she shouldn’t say is the same as his daddy’s when he’s teasing you.

“mommy, what you doin’?” the little girl asks, shaking in spencer’s arms in an attempt to get to yours.

“mommy is baking a cake for our little birthday girl,” he says, trying his best to keep her from falling as you wash your hands.

“birday?” she asks.

once your hands are clean and dry, you open your arms wide to her and she almost flies from spencer’s arms to yours. he then takes the lead with the cake.

“yes, baby. your birthday. how old are you turning today?”

she looks up at you with those big, brown eyes she inherited from her dad, not really knowing what to answer. you show her three fingers and start counting them with a singsong tune, and spencer can only grin at himself.

he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this complete in his life. mixing butter and flour and vanilla essence into a mixing bowl with pictures of mickey mouse on the sides, the noise of your sweet voice singing and the giggles of his daughter are the perfect music to accompany the moment. all of his most important memories to date have taken place in this same tiny kitchen.

your first kiss, which was soon followed by your first time sleeping together. it started on the counter. he’d been cooking dinner for the two of you on your third date. he’d been talking about anything and everything as he danced around the kitchen, taking ingredients from the fridge, chopping them on the cutting board next to you. at some point, he’d ended up standing between your legs as he reached to take out some spices from the cupboard right over you head. he’d leaned in so close you could smell his cologne and you’d looked up at him and he’d felt his knees weaken. you looked so insanely beautiful, half your face casted in shadows, the other lit only by the soft, orange glow of the light above the stove. spices forgotten, he couldn’t help himself. he leaned down and clashed your lips together in a kiss. he’d been dreaming of that exact instant since he saw you for the first time. as had you. after that, you became a mess of hands buried in each others hair, pulling at each other’s clothes. dinner forgotten, you encircled his hips with your legs and he didn’t think it twice before walking you to his room.

two years later, you were sitting on the small kitchen table, waiting for him to come home with a positive pregnancy test in your hands. all day, you’d felt anxious, not really knowing how he’d react. what if he didn’t want it? what if he… left you?

“hey, baby, i’m home.” you heard his voice call your name from the entryway when you didn’t answer. “baby?”

“in the kitchen,” you’d answered.

the moment he saw you sitting on that chair, with you head low and your shoulders slumped he’d dropped his bag on the table and knelt in front of you.

“hey, hey. baby, what’s wrong? talk to me, please.”

and that’s when he saw it. the small, white and pink test. you couldn’t see it because you were still looking away from him, but his cheeks were tight with a broad smile, and his eyes got watery really fast.

“is it…” he swallowed hard. “is it positive?”

you could only nod. the silence stretched between you two for a minute, and you only dared to look up when you heard a ragged sob coming from him.

“why are you…?”

“i’m going to be a dad?” he asked, a mess of joyful tears. “are we… are we going to be parents?”

“do you want to?” your voice was wobbly, and spencer was quick to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“of course i do! there’s nothing i would want more in this life than to create a family with you.”

that managed to pull a ragged sob out of your chest. still kneeling on the floor, spencer hugged you by the waist, laying his forehead against your belly.

“i’ll have to get a better job, though,” you started talking, still crying. “we’ll need the money. and we’ll need to make room for the baby.”

“hey, hey. look at me.” taking hold of your cheeks, spencer spoke sweetly and softly. “right now, the only thing you have to focus on is your health. yes, and on loving and caring for our baby. we’ll figure out the rest later. and i can free up my office to make room for her.”

you laughed, sniffing. “her? spencer i’m two weeks pregnant, there’s no way we know it yet.”

“oh, trust me. i know a lot of things.” he kissed your forehead. “and i know she’s going to be a girl, and she will be just as beautiful as her mother.”

when you daughter took her first steps she did it so she could reach you in the kitchen. she’d been playing with spencer, both of them sitting on the living room floor. then, you’d started singing as you finished putting the dishes away after dinner. spencer still recalls the way her small head tilted towards the sound of your voice, how her eyes seemed to scan the room, looking for you. she then started to stand up, and spencer followed close, ready to catch her before she fell. but she didn’t. with wobbly legs, and tripping a couple of times along the way, she walked up to you, and when she saw you standing next to the kitchen counter, drying some dishes with a dish rag, she started cooing and clapping.

“oh my god, baby,” you beamed as you saw her on the threshold, spencer close behind.

your crouched down, encouraging her to keep walking towards you. at the sight of her mom’s open arms, your daughter quickened her pace, palms wide open on her sides and a big grin on her face.

“good job, honey! you were so fast,” your chirped, kissing her chubby cheeks.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask when you notice spencer has zoned out, the spatula he was using to pour the cake mix into the mold dripping on the counter.

he shakes his head, grabbing a towel to clean up the mess. “just how much i love this place.” he puts the cake in the oven, and as he raised back up, he stopped right in front of you and your kid. “how much i love you both.”

as you wait for the cake to bake, spencer and you help your daughter get ready for the small party you had prepared for her. this year, the theme is frogs. recently, she has become obsessed with them recently, and so instead of a tiara like last year, now she wears a green headband with two big googly eyes—the same one you and spencer are wearing too, matching with your kid—and the decorations are all green and frog related.

“did you know some frogs can jump twenty times their body length,” spencer states as he finishes putting up some cartoon pictures of frogs on the living room wall. “and there’s this one, the wood frog, which can live north of the arctic circle, surviving for weeks with sixty-five percent of its body frozen.”

“spencer, honey, i don’t think she understands a single word you’re saying right now,” you tell him as you finish helping your daughter put on the green tutu dress you bought her a few days ago.

“oh, trust me, she does.” he smiles at you, and it’s so damn cute, so… boyish, that it makes your heart throb like you were falling in love with him all over again.“baby, why don’t you show mommy how frogs jump?”

immediately, she gets down, crouched with her hands resting against the floor in the space between her legs. and then she jumps.

“that’s right, baby!” he praises her.

“dad, you. now you.”

“me? you want me to jump like a frog, too?” she nods effusively. “okay, baby. anything for you.”

and so spencer gets in the same position, occupying about eighty percent of your living room space, and you watch from the couch as him and your daughter jump around. they’re both giggling and croaking. spencer keeps spitting some random facts about frogs from time to time. meanwhile, you observe them both, absorbing every instant, every laugh. it’s moments like these, when spencer shows his most childish side that you remember why you fell in love with him. he’s perfect for you, he’s perfect for your daughter, and you couldn’t be any prouder that you decided to create a family with him.

thanks for reading <3 likes & reblogs are appreciated !!

tags !! @siennnaaa1202 ; @kusanagisunshine-blog-blog ; @girllblogging777 ; @superbeaglewitch ; @tokalotashiz

[honeyhenry]

Possessive!Bruce headcanons

I'm very nervous to post this as it's a little different from my usual work! I tried my very best to write this as it was my first ever request for Bruce and had been voted over 50 times by you lovely lot! I really hope I have done this justice, it's still very sweet because I just love sweet things!!

Bruce is the type of man to have his hands all over you, certainly in private but definitely in public. He wants every eye looking in your direction to immediately link the two of you together. To know that the two of you are connected physically, and in every other way.

Often at the galas you both attend, his hand will rest at the small of your back as you both effortlessly glide past your guests, pausing briefly to smile or offer a kind or complimentary word. (You were too sweet for a man like him, he thinks, but he will always aim to be a better man for you and follow suit.)

Speaking of!!!! The compliments this man gives you in front of others not only makes you blush, but is a double edged sword for anyone who had even a millisecond of thought about you or your relationship.

"isn't my girl so beautiful" aka she's the most beautiful and she's mine

"I couldn't host any of this without her" aka we are never parting even for a moment

"we're just as surprised as you are that we managed to have the manor prepared for you all arriving....we are incredibly busy" aka you two fucked all day because it was duty to keep you happy while you were simply begging for him...

and believe me...the subtext is obvious to everyone close enough to hear him

whew

but yes at galas he has you right by his side, keeping close to you, and if he's not holding the small of your back then he will definitely be holding your hand

not in a clingy way but in a "she's mine and she's staying with me while I talk funds and management strategies." you don't mind leaning into his broad stature, squeezing your hand when you want his attention, which he readily gives

there are many times where you miss an event because he was just too wrapped up in you to care about actually leaving the manor

"baby, you look too good I don't want anyone else to see you...this can be just for me"

"bruce...I spent so long getting ready...I was looking forward to trying that place's oysters"

the Michelin star resort delivers the oysters to the manor door for Alfred to receive, right as bruce has you on your second orgasm that night

at high end restaurants, or the days you manage to convince your upper-class husband to visit your favourite local cafe, he always requests a booth so you can sit together.

he's not sitting across a table from you when he could be right there with a strong arm around your waist and a hand on your thigh as the waitstaff take your orders, hopefully being paid well enough for their efforts to ignore the intimacy of your embrace

Bruce just can't help the fact that he'd delivered quite an exquisite dress to you earlier that day, so his presence by your side ensured that anyone who dared to look, would have to deal with him first.

the dress - and you - were for his eyes only

once, Bruce had snapped both of your orders at a poor young boy who's gaze had merely blinked down to your cleavage, before growling a request for another waiter "with manners"

"Bruce, he's only young...besides...the dress doesn't leave much-"

a squeeze to your thigh lets you know, even without words, that he was deadly serious about his claim on you

"no one looks at what is mine" he had gritted out

the jewellery also marks his possessive nature!!! You hadn't had much of a collection before meeting Bruce, and now he could use his wealth to decorate you in pretty jewels and precious metals that people would instantly associate with his status and class

the first he gifts you is a bracelet with "mine" engraved on the inside. once he clips it onto you, you never take it off, matching it with every outfit for every occasion. for you it's far more sentimental, and you enjoy being his.

you don't mind his little possessive streak. you feel so safe knowing how invested he is in you, how serious he is about his commitment to you.

the second item of jewellery he buys for you is a pair of earrings, worn only to grand events, with sparkling diamonds that glint beautifully with each and every dress you own

he loves hearing you be complimented on your jewellery "oh thank you, Bruce got me them. doesn't he have wonderful taste?"

oh yes, he thinks, he does.

you adore the necklace he gifted you for Christmas one year, and make it a habit to wear every day. A small, dainty, shining letter 'B' hanging from a delicate chain. Initially, Bruce had suggested it stood for you being his baby, one of his favourite nicknames for you. but you knew better. B stood for Bruce, and it meant you belonged to him

one of your most precious - if not the most special - pieces he gifted you was your engagement ring

you dread to even think of a number that comes close to its value, but when he dropped on one knee, Bruce Wayne knew that a giant diamond was the best way for people to know you were his

in every picture since your engagement, he loves to find and look at your hand which unmistakably carries the precious stone. through photographic evidence, you were his.

when you married, and had been spotted at further events, it was unmistakable that you were a Wayne due to the pearls hanging gracefully around your neck

Martha's pearls

Bruce could only part them from the other family heirlooms once you'd signed on the dotted line to be his forever, and now a Wayne in name, he couldn't think of a better way to show the world that you were his

Bruce feels much more possessive of you when you are crowded. even by one person. he doesn't want you to ever feel uncomfortable.

when you visit his offices, he meets you right away so that no one else has the chance to steal you away or talk to you. you are his and you belong to him only. you never mind, you always laugh at his intensity

"honey, who else would I be here to see?"

one time Bruce did NOT make it to you first, as you'd decided to visit his office as a surprise

one of the men from sales or some other irrelevant department - in bruce's words - had seen you standing at the mid-floor elevator, dressed in your favourite sundress and a light shawl. despite your rings, which he either hadn't spotted or plainly ignored, he had started a line of conversation about how a "pretty thing like you" seemed lost in such a place as Wayne Tower.

"Maybe I could give you a tour, and afterwards we could grab a drink?"

You had tried, politely, to decline. For more than the obvious reasons, you knew the second Bruce caught wind, this man would be made jobless, homeless, or even headless depending on his mood.

"C'mon sweets, don't be shy. I'll even tell ya a couple secrets about the big boss here. That guy's a wack job"

enter Bruce, via elevator

he sees you first, as always, and then the man who is practically breathing the same pocket of air as you

his inital response is to punch he guy's lights out

but he's not Batman here. he's Bruce Wayne. Owner of Wayne enterprises, the Prince of Gotham, and first and foremost, your husband.

you smile, relieved, as you catch Bruce's eye as he strides over to you with an sly air of confidence and a stern expression

"who's your new friend, baby?"

he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly into his side as you lean up to kiss the space between his cheek and jawline

Safe to say the stuttering, bumbling fool who had approached you, never set foot back in the tower

during sex, Bruce growls your name, claiming you as his, pumping into you while he reminds you; "all mine, you hear me? who do you belong to huh? who owns you? who gives you everything you deserve and more huh? that's right baby, say my name"

"bruce....fuck...i'm all yours"

that's gets him cumming every time

whenever you wear his clothes, his brain shuts down entirely, except that primal part that wants you right on his lap so he can admire you inside and out

the morning you put his shirt on for breakfast, you ended up not leaving the bedroom for 3 full days

not even Alfred deserved to see you wearing that

your pregnancy was not planned, but also not unplanned

you loved the idea of a family, a baby that looked like your husband who you could love and raise together

Bruce loved the idea that with a swollen belly, everyone would know you were his

However, Bruce was so possessive of you and your growing baby, that he'd convinced you that it would be better off to spend your pregnancy in peace

you were a goddess carrying his baby, and no one else deserved the privilege of seeing that

Bruce owns a film camera and snaps hundreds, if not thousands, of pictures to look at and admire. you take plenty of him, especially adoring the ones where his hand rests on your belly

which, let's face it, is 90% of the time

one afternoon you feel the baby kick, but bruce is in the garage setting up a car seat in each of the cars, so the only person to hear your squeals is Alfred

he rushes to the library in the north wing, where you feel most comfortable

"Mrs Wayne? Are you-"

"Alfred, it's the baby, they're kicking! feel!" you all but place his hand to the side of your belly

sure enough, Alfred feels it, before removing his hand and clearing his throat

"i shall fetch Mr Wayne at once, he will be so thrilled"

Bruce is in the library within the minute, heart racing from the excitement he feels at the opportunity to feel his baby move within you

"B, come here...feel!" you pull his large palm to your belly, and again, within a moment, a gentle kick presses against the spot of skin he has engulfed with his hand

he's about to comment when you softly whisper "they did it there for Alfred too"

Bruce blinked, moving his head away from your belly to now take a better look at you

"wh- Alfred? He felt...my child..." his brows furrow in annoyance

Safe to say, Bruce had to give himself a reality check when he feels possessive about his family over his own butler doing his job by being there for you.

"He helped me, honey. He's family too. Please don't be mad at him" you had pouted

Alfred just chuckles it off as he leaves you both in peace "Mr Bruce has always been one to keep what’s his just for him, Mrs Wayne. You and your child included."

Bruce insists on private healthcare, only the very best and most professional to keep his family safe

“Well they’ll be born in the manor, not...Gotham general” he would spit out

he watches the doctor and midwife like a hawk, frowning as you winced at the cold gel smoothed over your stomach

"Should she be shivering?" he'd asked, pointedly

"Brucie...hey, relax...they're just doing their job."

safe to say, he has a million (actually 76) questions for the doctor.

When they manage to get Bruce away from you for all of 4 minutes, they do a welfare check to ensure of your own health

"It's good to have a strong support network, especially due to the private nature of your pregnancy. Has your husband been involved? He's not worrying you, distancing himself at all?"

You could only laugh

“He’s been….clingy. A little….over-possessive…but in a sweet way. He’s so good to me, to us. We're all doing so well.”

Bruce Wayne would die for you, but in the meantime he would have you all to himself, and he would make sure that the world would comply

[kdh-tally]

HIHIHI OMG STOP THIS SHOW HAD ME LAUGHING AND SOBBING AND GRAHHHHHH wait so jinu is alive (im in denial shhhhhh) and like, this is a request....but what is like jinu is alive and he shows up to rumi whos like sobbing obv and the girls watching and supporting her but then as they're wrapping up all the saja boys (THEY ARE A FOUND FAMILY FIGHT ME ON THIS) pull up and see him and like ensue pt 2 of crying and shock??? basically jinu comes back and everyone happy :D

Prompt : Huntr/x reaction to Jinu not being dead

Authors Note : Jinu is 100% alive lmaooooo. Unfortunately, I had just published Jinu and Rumi reuniting a few hours before I saw your request :( BUT I did write the Huntr/x reaction to Jinu coming back to life and I WILL right a pt 2/3? where the Saja boys react <3

Can be read as a second part to -> RuJinu Reuniting

The Huntr/x dorm was calm but slightly tense. Mira laid spread on the couch as she watched a recently released telenova, while Zoey prepared a batch of snacks. They were excited to relax. Promotions had been going well, the boys didn’t seem to be causing any trouble and their fans were as loving as ever. 

However, both girls had a tenseness to their movements. Rumi had been MIA all day and they had a gut feeling she wasn’t alright. Zoey sighed as she placed the snack tray on the coffee table. “Maybe we should go look for her?”

Mira was already nodding, about to get up when the door creaked open. The two girls waited in silence, as they heard footsteps come through the hallways. They let out heavy breaths when they saw their purple haired leader. 

“Rumi!” the two immediately ran up to her, encasing her in a tight hug. 

“We were so worried about you,” Zoey cried as she cuddled closer to the girl. 

Mira moved back slightly, her face contorting with confusion as she took in the girls red and teary eyes. “You’ve been crying?” Her voice was quiet with worry.

Rumi’s voice was hoarse as she spoke. “I have to tell you guys something..” The girls immediately responded with gentle words of encouragement, they would rather she tell them anything than let it eat her up inside.

“You know you can tell us anything Rumi”

“Wether it’s about some new demon power or if you lost your voice again. We’re here”

“Well…” Rumi’s voice trailed off, prompting someone to clear their throat behind them. Mira and Zoey’s eyes pan up slowly only to widen as they see Jinu.

The room was quiet and tense. In a second, the two had summoned their weapons. Mira had her double-bladed staff up to his throat, her eyes narrowed in focus. Behind him, Zoey stood with her blades ready to cut through his back. 

“You guys-”

“He’s supposed to be dead Rumi” Mira spoke, not once taking her eyes off the man. 

“Yeah, well… surprise!” Jinu shrugged sheepishly, jazz hands included, as if that would help.

It took a few minutes but Rumi finally got both girls to calm down. She sat across from them, Jinu by her side as the two explained what they had been doing and how Rumi had found Jinu.

“Let me get this straight,” Zoey takes in a breath, “Jinu’s soul was floating around some fancy white room and he spent the entire time there thinking about you,” she pointed at Rumi, “and how to get back to her and then a few hours ago you were looking at the Honmoon when Jinu popped up out of nowhere and the both of you hugged and made up and things are fine?”

“Exactly,” Rumi smiled

“Do the other Saja’s know?” Mira asked, a grin slowly forming on her face as she formulated a plan.

“Not yet,” Jinu sighed, scratching behind his neck. Truth was he missed his band-mates and was quite scared of how they would take his return.

“Perfect,” Zoey grinned, already plotting. Mira’s laugh turned suspiciously evil. Rumi knew that look.

“Don’t mind them,” Rumi groaned while facepalming. 

Jinu leaned toward Rumi. “Are they always like this?”

Rumi sighed dramatically, but a fond smile tugged at her lips. “Unfortunately.”

Jinu smiled back. “I missed this.” And just like that, the warmth of the room wrapped around them all, laughter echoing and the buzz of chaos only just forming.

Because tomorrow? Tomorrow, the Saja Boys would see a ghost.

[reallyromealone]

Title: Tokyo host club

Chapter: 8

Fandom: Tokyo revengers ohshc, KNB

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mentions of abuse, omegaverse, angst and fluff, scenting, crying, Makoto Hanamiya

Notes: works kicking my ass but I'm taking two weeks for vacation so more writing woo

Summary: mitsukuni and the reader go on a date where they see the omegas ex boyfriend

🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛

(name) was excited to spend his summer with haruhi, the two going to her dad's friends bed and breakfast to get some quiet time + (name) had a chess open in the area so it worked out.

He was a little bummed he couldn't spend his birthday with mitsukuni and his family but it was fine, the soon to be sixteen year old just happy to be out of Tokyo for a bit. (Name) Was cleaning and polishing the dining tables while Haruhi put the linens on the clothes line.

"HARUHI!" the sound of Tamaki screaming startled (name) and he looked to see the linens fly in the air, damn it. He was gonna have to grab that.

-

(Name) Stood beside haruhi, an annoyed expression on his face that slowly melted when mitsukuni doted on him and the two strayed away from the chaos "Tama and the others came because Tama thought haruhi was in danger but I came to see you ~" the Alpha was already fully aware on (name)s summer plans and had his own plans to surprise him but seeing the opportunity, he couldn't miss it "you know I'm still working, right? I can't just stop it all"

"And you know I could have taken you to Switzerland!"

"Mitsu, I don't even have my passport" (name) reminded and the Alpha pouted, there was the other reason neither brought up and that was (name)s grandpa's health decline. (Name) Was worried about going this far but Shinichiro practically booted him out claiming the Omega needed to relax and that Shinichiro would pick him up asap if anything happened.

"Well! That's neither here nor there! Now where are those treats you spoke of!"

-

The group sat in the garden with tea, (name) sipping casually until kyoya spoke about expulsion for getting a job. His blood froze and for a second the smell of rot made it to the host clubs nose before (name) got his scent under control and (name) was gonna be honest... He kind of blacked out the rest of the conversation out of anxiety.

When he finally checked back into the conversation, there was something about a competition but Mitsukuni was focused on him more than anything, panic in his eyes at the omegas short and distant responses "the lights are back on!" Mitsukuni whispered teasingly and (name) smiled back meekly, having not felt that level of anxiety since the time Emma almost got shot...

He never thought he would feel that level of anxiety again.

Mitsukuni knew how badly (name) needed this scholarship, wanting to support and help his family in any way he could and after high school, mitsukuni taking over his own family's business once he finishes university.

And when that happens he already had a plan partner with S.S motors to boost it.

But (name) didn't need to know that.

Not yet.

"Tama and the others are fighting for the room but taka and I already have a cottage more in town" mitsukuni explained and linked his fingers with (name) "don't worry (nickname), you're not getting expelled... They're just being jerks to haru-chan" jerks indeed as (name) found the manipulation towards the beta girl quite cruel honestly.

Rich people really didn't get it, did they?

(Name) Continued his work, working as a repair man of sorts in the b&b and fixing everything though the other alphas kept trying to step in "my sweet son, let me handle it!" Tamaki tried to say and (name) lifted a leveler "Tamaki, what is this?" The alpha failed to answer "I have been working with tools and the likes since my brother could put them in my hands, trust me I'm fine"

And with that (name) had an air conditioner to go fix, Mitsukuni following along to watch his omega fix things! He was so attractive when he got things fixed!

-

(Name) Was thankful to be given the day off the following day, having wanted to go see the shops in town but first he had to go grab his mate, Mitsukuni wanted to join him and (name) had to go awaken the beast.

Why were all the short blonds in his life nightmares to wake up?

Well at least he didn't get cussed out like he did with Mikey.

(Name) Was let in to the expansive and ornate cottage without a fuss, the place had to be double the size of where (name) was working. Walking into the blonds room, he saw the lump under the blanket and huffed with love in his eyes "mitsu, wake up" he said softly, leaning over the Alpha who grumbled "come on, you wanted me to wake you"

"Hmf..."

"... Come on Alpha, please?" This turned out to be a mistake, the other grabbing (name)s wrist and pulling him into bed, half awake and in a bitchy mood "careful" the Alpha warned and snuggled into (name), face pressed into the others neck before going back to sleep and (name) knew he wasn't going to get out of here in one piece, snuggling into the other and deciding to join the Alpha.

When (name) woke, he was snuggled into the others chest, purring sweetly and subconsciously chirping. This was the best sleep he's ever had, feeling the Alpha gently play with his (hair/nape) while texting with one hand on his phone, glancing down as if he wasn't just a monster two hours ago "good morning~!" His words light and airy, he could get used to having his omega so close to cuddle and kiss, "you ready to go, sleepyhead?" Mitsukuni said teasingly before they got up, the Alpha still in his pajamas and wandered to go change. The alpha changed in the washroom with the door slightly cracked open to talk "I'm starving, can we get some yummy food?" Mitsukuni asked and (name) shrugged "I could eat, I saw a cute deli when I rode here" the Omega had brought his bike to the small town to do deliveries and such, acclimating easily to the groove of the town.

"Rode here?"

"Yeah? On my bike?" He said confused and the Alpha stepped out dressed, wandering to the window and indeed there was a shiny motorcycle sitting in the driveway, he forgot his mate drove a motorcycle.

"Don't worry alpha, we can go your way" (name) used that nickname again and Mitsukuni turned and the love in his eyes was unexplainable.

-

Mitsukuni watched as (name) enjoyed his lunch, the Omega so serene and content around his alpha... Mitsukuni was so unapologetically in love with (name) in ways he didn't know were possible and sleeping together... That was honestly the best sleep he ever had, he loved his naps and sleep but this was... It was like his world was complete.

"(Name)?" A voice called out and he saw (name) freeze before his eyes sharpened a bit, gripping his fork and Mitsukuni looked at the man behind the Omega, first thing he noticed were some big ass eyebrows.

"Hanamiya" (name) hissed, scent turning sour and the Alpha in question smirked "come on, don't be like that" his voice condescending and mocking and eyes holding a look that mitsukuni didn't like "you used to be so good"

Mitsukuni would be a liar if he didn't do a full background check on (name).

He knew everything, every detail of the omegas life but he never said anything... He wanted (name) to be ready to talk about the dark and scary.

And he recognized Makoto Hanamiya at that moment, he didn't know the full details of what happened but he knew they dated for eight months and broke up, apparently it was bad, (name)s brothers had to accompany him everywhere for a while. "Let's go." (Name) Whispered with a pleading tone, his heart racing from anxiety and Makoto kissed his teeth "can't wait to see you at the open, it's gonna be great!" Makoto said with a plastered smile, eyeing mitsukuni.

"And I hope you two enjoy whatever you think you have, heads up about (name)--""shut up hanamiya, you psychotic narcissist!" (Name) Finally snapped "this is why no one stays around you because you're the worst and you know you are and god forbid you aren't terrible even just once! I'm going to absolutely rock your shit at that open so bad it's gonna remind your mom she should have aborted you!" He knew he went way to far, mitsukuni dragging him from the restaurant and somewhere quiet. (Name) Was hyperventilating, shaking and a mess while mitsukuni gently wiped those tears.

"He hurt you bad, huh?" His voice soft and sweet and he slowly put USA-chan in his mates arms and was so sweet to him, already having the limo coming to collect them both and he hoped they came fast at the sight of the clouds rolling in. (Name) Struggled to breathe, memories coming back hard "H- I" (name) could barely get the words out, this was a side of (name) mitsukuni had never seen and honestly never had to deal with something like this.

But he was determined to help (name) through this.

When the limo came, mitsukuni got (name) in and snuggled him as the limo took off back to mitsukunis cottage while the Alpha soothed him. (Name) Was quiet when they got back to the cottage, nesting materials already in the alphas room where (name) had calmed down "sorry..."

Mitsukuni didn't like seeing (name) this defeated and frowned "you don't need to apologize, (nickname)" mitsukuni said softly, if anything it was deeply attractive how (name) shut that down. "I-I should probably tell you why... I reacted like that"

"Only if you wanna"

"I feel I need to be honest with you about stuff" mitsukuni was quiet while (name) began explaining "you probably guessed that my brothers are into questionable things, my brother's run Toman..." There wasn't a person who didn't know Toman, they were gaining traction fast after all. "Makoto started dating me to use me as leverage against toman, blackmail them and emotionally abused me..." He had to go to therapy for it, wasn't allowed to walk alone for years after "A-and he tried to force my heat to trigger and when it didn't he broke my arm"

Oh mitsukuni was going to turn Makoto's bones into mist.

"I'm so sorry..."mitsukuni wanted to lock his mate away and keep him safe but he knew that wasn't even remotely on the table. (Name) Started crying again while years of repressed pain flooding out. "I-I thought my brother's scared him off... But I guess not"

"Don't worry (nickname)! I'll protect you!" And not leave the omegas side unless the other needed to pee, he was his beautiful mates faithful watchdog.

(Name) Sniffled and smiled at the others words "wanna continue our date? I feel bad for ruining it"

"You didn't ruin anything! It was that gross creature that ruined it!" Hunni stared with an 'angry' expression and let his omega pull him close for a hug.

-

The two didn't end up going back out, instead cuddling with (name) resting against the alphas chest and the blond even letting (name) hold USA chan for comfort. The two were watching a movie and (name) took in the sweet musk of his mate, brain fuzzy and a sense of peace and serenity falling on the both of them.

(Name) Ended up falling asleep on his mate, mitsukuni happy his mate felt safe before closing his eyes and joining him.

-

(Name) Was nervous for his chess match, he had no doubts he would win but the idea of facing him.... Sent shivers down his back and he had to focus his breathing.

"I got this..."

He had to win

[dreamjoymemoir]

raising a family with him

(cw: brief mention of pregnancy, but gender-neutral reader)

-anaxagoras is not exactly someone who would be described as "good with kids," but he treats them well in his own way. he respects their intelligence and agency and speaks to them like adults while keeping in mind that their brains are still developing; there's no need for him to be overly harsh with them, they are simply learning. he too was once a curious child scorned and ridiculed by adults. when he thinks back to those memories, he scoffs and tells himself that he would never be so cold-hearted.

-so this is my pitch that he would be a great father. he's very well-informed from the day you tell him you're expecting or when the two of you decide to adopt a child. as a naturally curious person, he reads all the books he can get his hands on about the process of child development and rearing; hell, he might even start writing his own books if he's not satisfied with the current knowledge. if something is to be done right then it obviously has to be done by himself!

-anaxagoras is already used to running on odd hours and little sleep, so it doesn't particularly bother him that having a baby in the house means that neither of you will be sleeping much for a while. when you wake up dazed in the middle of the night to the sound of crying, he's already out of bed and telling you to go back to sleep while he goes to check on your little one. you ask if the noise bothers him, and he just chuckles and shakes his head.

"a vigorous child is something to be cherished. who am i to say that they cannot assert their opinions at such a young age?"

-he is so cute. it goes without saying that your child's bedroom is filled with soft dromas toys of many kinds, from plushies to board books, and they grow up with an appreciation for amphoreus' humble creatures. being a teacher means that anaxagoras is always trying to enrich his kid's mind and teach them new things, but he also knows that having fun is important too; he follows whatever your child is interested in and indulges those interests wherever possible. he probably crafts a few toys himself just because he can.

-he hasn't forgotten the warmth of his big sister and the hospitality of his hometown, and he's just as kind and selfless to his child as he remembers how he was cared for. this new family is an invaluable gift that he never takes for granted. as long as you are happy and your child is raised well and safely, he'll drink more coffee, excuse himself from lectures, and endure the trials of parenthood with his usual nonchalance and lunacy.