#and he shows it back and that’s so spe

[spookykestrel]

There is not enough words in this world to express the love I feel when my little kitty friend is purring and purring and looks at me softly and bonks his head against mine bc he knows I love him and he loves me and that’s something that doesn’t need words ig

[nereidprinc3ss]

please don't say you love me

in which fwb!spencer reid and fem!reader get into an argument about the nature of their relationship.

18+ (implied intimacy) warnings/tags: friends with benefits arrangement, it goes bad, reader is so clearly anxious avoidant, reader is so me-coded, self-loathing, difficulties with emotional intimacy, arguing, derek and penelope make an appearance woo, a little dramatic, no happy ending (a nereidprinc3ss first!) a/n: it happened guys I stopped writing for a few days and last night randomly was inspired to finish this fwb piece and it essentially turned into a vent and went a completely different direction than i thought it would but here we are!!! i hope you enjoy, I loved writing, ilysm

“Are you reading it? Did you get to the part yet?” You ask, buzzing as you peer around Spencer’s arm to see where he’s at in the book you’d handed him. Sometimes you think it takes him longer to flip the pages than to read them. 

He doesn’t answer, but you see the flickering quirk of his lip like something is amusing him. It’s been a few minutes and he’s maybe halfway through. He has to have seen it by now. 

You’re clinging to his arm, eyes darting pointlessly between the text and his face, searching for a reaction. It comes in the form of a furrowed brow, a disbelieving smile, and something between a barking laugh and an exclamation of, “what?”

“You read it?”

His eyes narrow and he flips back a page, taking a bit longer to reevaluate. 

“Our moans and grunts drowned out the screams of the dead and dying only a few hundred feet away.”

You giggle furiously, clapping a hand to your mouth when you snort, and you feel Spencer’s focus shifting to you, even with your eyes screwed shut. 

“And you read this whole series?”

At that you sober up some, still hiding the bottom half of your face and brows drawn sorrowfully as mirthful tears well. You’re slow to admit your guilt with a nod, and his expression is somewhere between horror and fascination. 

Your cheeks heat and you cover your face, laughing again and shaking your head shamefully as he ridicules you. 

“Why? Why would you do that to yourself? I don’t even know if I can be seen in public with you, that’s—” he’s haphazardly tossed the book back on its display table and grabbed your wrists, pulling gently and laughing too. “No, show me your face. This is—you need to explain yourself. This is unforgivable.” 

“No! I swear it was a morbid curiosity, I didn’t like it, I’m sorry! I—”

“Reid?”

You both freeze. 

It’s not the most dignified position, admittedly—hidden among the shelves in a bookstore, pressed too close to be friendly, his hands around your wrists. 

So you don’t mind when he drops them like hot potatoes and gives you a few inches of breathing room. 

“Hey! Uh—you’re—”

Spencer is looking between you and two other people at the end of the aisle—a quirky bespectacled blonde in a flouncy polka-dot dress and her taller companion, ripped and head shaved, sporting some impressive eyebrows. Right now they’re conspicuously raised—his eyes are also pinballing between you and Spencer. 

For a moment, everyone is just sort of… looking at each other. 

It’s a little bit… awful?

Finally Spencer clears his throat. 

“Um, what are you guys doing here? Just… looking at books?”

Something is off, and you feel like shrinking or running, but you just stay glued to your spot. 

In sync, they hold up copies of the same book—and it takes you not a second to place the author’s name, in imposing red font at the bottom like it’s important. Rossi. 

The pieces click into place. These must be Spencer’s co-workers—Penelope and Derek, if his descriptions of the team have served you well. Part of you is starstruck. Part of you is embarrassed. They’re clearly shocked to see Spencer with a girl in the wild, so you know he hasn’t told them about you—and why should he, you think, why should he tell his friends about the girl he’s been sleeping with for months now? 

Finally, the blonder half of the duo speaks. 

“You’re—this is a girl. That’s. Who is that? Hi! Who are you?”

She’s literally pointing at you, eyes drifting between you and Spencer like it just doesn’t make any sense. Derek gives her a look and gently pushes her hand down. 

“Hey. That’s enough.” Then he offers you a polite smile, though you sense a bit strained, and his eyes too keep wandering back to the man next to you. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no! You’re not… interrupting…” Spencer trails off and you sense he’s looking at you and gauging a reaction but you’re just smiling idly at his friends and waiting for this to be over. He finally thinks to introduce you by name, and you offer a shy wave and a smile to your new acquaintances. 

Penelope points (that damn finger again) but this time it’s less accusatory, and stays below chin level. 

“Cool shirt. I love that band,” she offers genially. Your brows raise and you look down, trying to remember what shirt you’d tossed on before leaving Spencer’s apartment an hour ago. 

“Oh! Thanks,” you smile, and you’re relieved to mean it this time. 

Another frosty silence begins to descend, but Derek doesn’t let it settle so much this time, to everyone’s satisfaction. 

“Alright, well. It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your date.”

There’s too much weight on the last sentence, and Derek gives Spencer a eyebrows-raised-meaningfully look you don’t understand. You’re just glad Spencer keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t immediately insist that it’s not a date, because it’s not, and that’s fine, but the vehement denial would bum you out. 

The pair walk away in the kind of clenched silence that means they’ll start fervently whispering as soon as they are out of ear shot. You watch their retreating figures and chew your lip, sensing that the carefree and playful energy of five minutes ago will have evaporated by the time you turn back to face your companion. 

“Strange,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, and you’re slightly jarred when Spencer replies from beside you. 

“Which part?”

All of it. 

Turning to face him, you smile, and it doesn’t reach your eyes but it doesn’t need to. 

“Oh—nothing, sorry.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, only stares at a point somewhere above your head and narrows his eyes like he’s thinking unpleasant thoughts. 

“Was I an asshole, to you, just now?”

It’s unexpected. You don’t have an answer prepared, so you say something that feels like a lie because you can’t prove that it’s not the truth. 

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I just… I don’t know. I get weird around them, sometimes. I don’t always know what to say, like, when my personal life and my work life intersect, because for a long time I didn’t really have a personal life. And I think they still think I don’t know how to talk to girls, so…”

“You don’t know how to talk to girls,” you remind him. “Let’s go look at the puzzles.”

Maybe you spend too much time with Spencer Reid. Maybe that’s the problem—too long in his presence and he’s eating away at your neural tissue like you’ve got cysticercosis and he’s the T. solium (a terrible thing he had explained to you a few weeks ago.)

Maybe you need a break from him, to stop breathing his air and sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothing, because you’re forgetting that he’s not the entire world and that is a very bad thing to forget in a situation like yours. The entire world cannot be the size of his apartment. 

But you also just like him so much. As a friend, of course. That goes without saying. You like his strange sense of humor, and the way he lights up when you ask him an obscure question. You like your legs across his lap while you watch his old shows. You also like being kissed by him, and hugged by him. You like being taken care of like no one has ever taken care of you, and you like the way he always touches you, soft and kind and so on purpose. 

You never meant to like him so much. 

This affection—it has grown, insidious and parasitic, and now that it’s been pointed out to you like a lump in your side, it’s impossible to ignore. 

What you and Spencer have works precisely because you’ve kept things platonic and casual. That way, there’s no worrying about emotional baggage or arguing about feelings because there are none to be found and no precedent that any such things should or need to occur. You can’t hurt each other’s feelings if your feelings aren’t on the table. 

So why can’t you stop thinking about earlier?

Why can’t you help caring that he’s been keeping you a secret from the people he loves most?

“So, essentially the book is his first deep dive into meta-fiction. It was pretty revolutionary at the time, and while not his most celebrated novel, I’d argue it was his most relevant and culturally pervasive. I’d actually love to hear your interpretation of the story—it’s truly different for everyone. It’s a little like… like a literary Rorschach test. Do you wanna borrow it?”

You’re a tangle on his bed—arms, legs, sheets—it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins. All you’re sure of is his hand, tracing his fingers in chaste lines, feather-light up and down your inner thigh in the way he knows you like. Usually it’s so soothing you melt and fall asleep within minutes. Right now it’s only stoking some sparking electrical fire in your chest—the buzzes and bursts from which have you on edge. Ready to cave in at any second. You wish you could relax. You’ve been trying.

Spencer is in no hurry for you to respond, and so doesn’t seem to mind when it takes you a long while to find your answer. 

“I think I need to go home.”

It comes out too scratchy, as you haven’t really spoken for several hours. Not as casual as you were going for. He angles his head down toward you and his hand stops and you realize it’s actually worse like that. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything is fine, I just… I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight, I think.”

It’s late and you shouldn’t be making him drive you across town, but he’s always amenable to what you want. This is the longest you’ve ever stayed at his place, after all—a rare long weekend—and before that a few weeks had passed with no cases to speak of, during which time you’ve been staying with him more and more. Spencer seems to be completely content letting you eat his food and use his shower if it means you don’t leave. 

“I know the feeling well,” he admits, and your heart twinges with the care he takes to not bump or bend you or pull your hair as he shifts. He’s already been out of bed, and so is more dressed than you. Really, most people on the planet are more dressed than you, and you pull his nice sheet higher up your chest as he sits on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you and with a sort of worry in his eyes. He finds your knee through the fabric. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Stop paying such close attention, you want to tell him. And in the same breath, please don’t ever look away. 

“I’m… good.”

It is easily the least convincing performance of your life. Either you’re self sabotaging or you want him to push you further, and you don’t know which is worse. 

When his brow ramps just the slightest bit, you know you’ve fumbled it. 

“I don’t believe you.”

You shrug. “I don’t need you to.” And then you sit up, still holding the sheet to your chest. “Can you hand me a shirt?”

Enough clothing has accumulated around the room recently that he could pretty much reach out in any direction and find something for you to wear.  He grabs a sweatshirt hanging from the bedpost and holds it out for you, and you pull it over your head, before dropping your feet onto the cool wooden floor and grabbing the first bottoms you see—a pair of floral pajama shorts. How have so many of your clothes ended up at his apartment?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

You scoop your bag up from a chair and flit around the room, haphazardly stuffing away discarded clothing to take back home. It’s true that it’ll be nice to get back to your stuff—your shower products and your closet and your silk pillow cases. You shouldn’t be spending so much time here. It’s not your space and you’ve been sacrificing your own needs to be closer to him, which is something you’d rather not do for any man. 

“You can drive me home. I’ll send you gas money.”

“You don’t need to send me gas money,” he says, tacking your name on to the end of the sentence in a way that raises your hackles instantly. 

“Yeah, I do. You drive me around constantly. I’ll pay you back and start taking the metro, or something.”

“I don’t want your money,” he scoffs. 

“Fine. Then I’ll call a car.”

“That’s unnecessary. I’m happy to drive you.”

“Why?”

Silence hangs. Spencer has by this point stood up, and he’s watching you with a furrowed brow and slightly parted lips like he doesn’t understand where this animosity has come from. Honestly, you’re not entirely sure either. You didn’t realize you were harboring so much of it. 

“Am I supposed to see you as an inconvenience?”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“No. You’re not. We have a relationship and I don’t mind doing things for you.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you sure as hell were thinking it. 

It feels good to say, like stretching a sore muscle beyond its limits or pressing into a bruise until you get past the ache. Sometimes when things hurt, it’s best to feel the pain and move on. 

He looks absolutely perplexed, the lines between his brows only ditching deeper. 

“Is that what this is about?”

“Oh my god, Spencer, no, I don’t care—”

“Because earlier at the bookstore I asked you if I was being an asshole and—”

“I do not give a fuck about earlier at the fucking bookstore!”

It’s too late to be yelling, but he doesn’t scold you. He just sort of looks at you, like you’re something mildly unpleasant. It makes you feel worse. 

A long moment goes by. 

“Fine. I’ll take you home.”

You let him brush past you, nothing more than a breeze on your shoulders as he disappears from the darkened bedroom. For a moment, you can’t follow him. All you can do is stand there and try to contain that sour, stinging, crying feeling in your eyes and nose because there’s no reason for you to be crying right now. 

From the living room, he calls, rather abrasively, “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” you huff, and it is as wavering as it is insolent, so obviously the only word holding back a full-fledged deluge of tears. 

One minute. One minute to sniffle and take deep breaths and wipe abashedly under your eyes because you refuse to be dramatic about this. Refuse to get over-emotional. You will not let it matter this much to you. 

When you decide you can show your face without making a scene, you march out of his bedroom and straight past where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, keys in hand, to the front door. 

He doesn’t move. You burn smoking holes into the dark wood of the door with your eyes, and the two of you are apparently at an impasse. 

“I’m ready,” you eventually snap, always the impatient one between the two of you, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder. 

“I’m not.”

“You said you would—”

“I know what I said,” Spencer cuts you off and shuts you up, “and I changed my mind. I’d prefer to talk about it before I take you home.”

By the time he finishes the sentence you’re already wrestling your phone from the depths of your bag in search of a ride sharing app. 

“Okay, well I’m done talking because I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, so—”

“No, you’re done talking because this is what you do. You can never admit it when you want something because that would mean acknowledging that you’re a human being with emotions, and that’s too scary for you.”

Surely you misheard him. You turn around, a deep frown contorting your features. 

“Excuse me?”

He only looks at you in that expectant, knowing way of his. 

“It’s too scary so you run away. You’d rather burn your relationships to the ground and rebuild them with a new person every time than actually let someone in.”

“You don’t know me!” You yell.

“Do you actually think that’s true?” Spencer says, pushing off his perch against the counter, voice shrilling and raised slightly as he gets visibly agitated. “You think I’ve spent hours upon hours with you and I don’t know you at all?”

“You have no idea what I’m like in a relationship because this isn’t one. You have no fucking idea what I want, so do not presume to,” you seethe. 

“You want a relationship. You wanted my friends to know you and you didn’t tell me that because you’re fucking terrified of the fact that I do know you. You can’t stand the idea that regardless of how many times you tell yourself it’s just sex, you have been vulnerable with me, and you’ve told me things you’ve never told anyone before, like why your last three relationships really ended, and how you constantly self-sabotage when you’re on the verge of getting what you want because you think you don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up!”

“No. I’m not just going to let you walk away from me like you did everyone else who could’ve ever cared about you because I know once you walk out that door you’ll stop responding to my calls and texts and I’ll never see you again, which is a juvenile pattern and completely unsustainable if you don’t want to keep pushing people away for the rest of your life!”

“God, Spencer, stop!” You sob, staggering back like you’ve been stabbed. 

The urgency, the raw, desperate scratch of your voice, stops him in his tracks. 

Every place an arrow penetrated a chink in your armor aches, and it hurts so much worse because he knew exactly where they were. You don’t know when or how it happened, but he’s right. Despite your most valiant efforts, Spencer Reid knows you. Somehow he crept in and grew over every limb like ivy. It’s crawled over your feet and up your legs and it’s keeping you there, rooted in place in his apartment, sobbing silently into the crook of your arm because you feel utterly paralyzed with fear. 

Just as he’d said. 

It’s silent for a long stretch of time, unquantifiable the same way the distance between the beach and the horizon is unquantifiable. It’s sprawling and infinite and desolate. The only relief from the drowning quiet is the occasional gulp of air or gasp from you which furthers your humiliation. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer finally whispers, soft and unsure like rays of weak sunlight over staggered tides, in the grey morning after a raging storm. It’s an attempt. It’s earnest and afraid. 

The energy radiating off of him is so tangible that you can sense his desire to come near. To hold you. But that would be your worst nightmare come to fruition. This—this warbling and crying in front of him in silence in his dark apartment is god-awful enough. But to be comforted? For him to bear witness up close and personal to your humility and your ugly, jagged pieces—that inspires true catatonia. That is everything he said you were afraid of, and he was right. 

You resent your human nature, and the fact that you care how his friends look at you and that it stung when they did so with little more than apathy. You hate that you care that he hasn’t told them about you. You hate that you feel so unimportant—because more than anything, you want to be fine with being unimportant. 

You want to be fine. Constantly. 

You hate that you feel. You hate that you care. 

But you always have. And so fucking deeply. 

Somehow, Spencer Reid is the only one who has ever noticed. 

Eventually, his self-restraint snaps and he surges forward at the same time as you take a shuddering inhale and step back. 

“Please don’t touch me,” you whisper. Afraid that if he did, his fingers would only sink into your flesh like decaying fruit. That you would disintegrate in his hands, and he’d finally see you’d been rotten the whole time. 

He speaks softly, holding his hands up to show you he’s not a threat. 

“Okay. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go home.”

“I’ll—”

“No. I don’t want a ride. I’ll get a car.” You speak quietly. Efficiently. There’s no point in pretending this doesn’t feel catastrophic anymore. 

His brows furrow. Like a moth to flame, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he draws nearer again. 

“I’m not comfortable with you on the street at this hour.”

“I’ll wait in the lobby,” you insist, pleading, a wounded animal, because he doesn’t seem to understand how every casual notion of kindness is a violence, how he’s ripping into you and making it so you’ll never be able to put yourself back together. He can’t be kind like you’re easy to be kind to. 

If you’re easy to be kind to, you are just as easy to hurt. Accepting that kindness is a sort of vulnerability you feel you can’t afford right now. 

Another moment of silence, of stillness, as if you’re both bolted to the ground where you stand. 

When he speaks it’s a blow to the chest because you’ve made him cry too. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, quietly, and a venomous self-hatred drips down your throat. Because you’re doing it again.

Maybe this is all you will ever be. 

You fail to stifle a sob and Spencer steps closer still, saying your name desperately and so quietly like it’s his last rite. 

And you try. You try harder than you ever have to stay in one place, to get a hold of your vibrating and to swallow all those slithery feelings and ignore every alarm telling you to panic when he reaches out to touch your arm because it’s never safe to let people in. But when his hand finally brushes you, it’s like a cow prod. You jolt backward. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you whisper all in one harrowed breath, and there’s so much you’d like to say—you’re right, about everything, you do know me, you know what I want, I tried, I’m ashamed—but none of it matters. None of it is enough. He’s backed you into a corner of your own making, and the only way out is by pushing him aside even if it hurts you both. 

So you don’t say anything else. You leave him there, in the dark of his own apartment, and you disappear down the hall. 

Maybe this is all you will ever be.

[violetarks]

third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.

"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."

"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.

"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.

jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."

"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."

katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.

he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?

"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."

it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.

"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"

"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."

"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"

"do you want it?"

"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"

"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."

"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—

"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"

"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"

you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."

he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.

that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?

wrong.

katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.

what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.

when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.

you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."

"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"

"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"

"well... i—"

"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.

katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."

"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"

he stops. "huh?"

"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"

suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.

it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."

"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.

"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."

his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.

"thank you, bakugou. i love them."

he knows damn well you do.

"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."

katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."

you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"

he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.

what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I promise there will be fluff! The build up will be worth it :)

Summary: You're taken by strange men who claim you're their target. Will someone save you or will you save yourself?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Torture, blood, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)

Fear. You had been through so much yet you were paralyzed with fear. They were all closing in on me, taking their time knowing there was no where for me to run. You glanced around one last time, hoping Azriel was just late and he would show up and save you. You needed him.

He wasn't there and he wasn't going to show up. Your mind was racing, this is it. This would be the end for me-

"Back away from her and I'll let you all live" a voice growled

As you turned your head you saw Cassian in a fighting stance. You couldn't move, couldn't fight, you felt cowardly. The fact that none of them looked worried, scared you further.

"Oh if it isn't the Prince of Bastards himself. You see, Cassian, we expected one of you to be here with her or try to save her. We assumed it would be the shadowsinger but you will have to do."

You felt lightheaded, looking at Cassian you realized he must feel that way as well from the slight swaying he was doing. He fell to his knees and that was when you realized they had released some type of gas to knock you both out. Before you could think more about it, darkness took over.

You woke in a dungeon. Your hands bound in chains above your head, you feet chained to the floor. Your head felt like someone poured cement in it.

"Sunshine..psst....hey wake up" Cassian was whispering at you.

Cassian. He had somehow shown up and tried to save me. Why had he been there? You'd think about that later. For now you needed to figure out where you were and how to get out.

"What's going on?" You asked Cass

"I think we're in the Autumn Court. None of them had any of the court symbols but it looked like their men. Do you have any idea what they want? They said you were their target?" He painfully spoke as if he was fighting to get the words out.

It was only then that you looked at him, truly looked and saw his bruised and bloody face.

He saw the recognition in your eyes and told you, "it's ok, you were still out so they wanted to play with me a little. Show me some hospitality, that's all." the sarcasm rolling off his tongue.

You heard the door creak and you both watched as three men walked in. Two you didn't recognize and the other was the leader.

"Ahhh how exciting! Our guest of honor has woken up" he said and sounded truly happy.

He walked straight over to you and back handed you so hard you saw stars. Cass screamed and tugged at his chains. The man watched Cass with a grin and continued his assault on me. He punched me anywhere he could, using me as if I was a training dummy. Then he nodded at his two cronies and they made their way over to me. They started to...no, please no. They were taking off your clothes.

"Oh calm down, we're not gonna touch you like that. We just need more access to your skin so I can view my handy work." He spoke

Cassian was screaming, "Cowards, hurt me instead. Leave her alone"

Once I was fully bare, they left. Cassian looked ashamed that he couldn't stop it. The blood from my face dripped to my body and the pain was too much, I welcomed the darkness, hoping I would just fade away.

I woke to someone taking my chains off of me and dragging me by my hair out of the room. Cassian was fighting against his chains as much as he could, yelling, growling at them.

"No, you son of a bitch, leave her alone! No!" you heard his continued pleas as you were thrown into another room.

The leader was here.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions. If you answer them, you might get to leave. If not, I'm going to torture you to get the answers and then kill you" He spoke as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Does Nyx have any special abilities?" he asked

You inhaled sharply. Why were the asking about Nyx?

"Hmm, lets try another, where are the keeping Nyx? Do they have any wards protecting him?" the man asked

You wouldn't tell him anything. You loved Nyx, Feyre, and Rhys with all your heart and would die protecting them. You were a coward when they kidnapped you, not even fighting back. But now you would hold you ground for the ones you loved.

"Don't feel like talking to me...? Don't worry, you will." He spoke lowly

He tortured you and beat you until you felt you were near death, then dragged you back to the dungeon and threw you in. His men chained you up again and left me.

"What did they do to you?" Cass spoke softly, not looking for an answer. He just couldn't believe his eyes. You were bruised and bleeding everywhere, wheezing like you had a couple broken ribs, and he could see the silent tears flowing from your eyes.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't strong enough, I'm so sorry, so sorry..." Cassian kept repeating as you let your head hang and faded away.

When you woke, you saw your friend had a few more bruises than before. No where near as bad as you but still bad.

"They asked me about Nyx" you squeaked out

"Hey, you keep holding on, we're going to get out of here. Do you hear me? I'm not letting you die here." Cass said as the man appeared again.

"Good Morning! We're going to try something new today. I'm going to hurt you - repeatedly - in front of him and we'll get him to break seeing as you don't like to talk to me. Oh, and I know where to stab to keep you alive so we can do this for a while" He said grabbing a long dagger and walking over to me.

You looked forward and saw the panic in your friend's eyes. No, this would only add more guilt to him.

"Cass look at me. I'm ok, it's gonna be ok. I promise I'm ok," You frantically spoke looking at the man chained in front of you, "Don't worry about me, I can take it, I'm ok-" you started screaming from the pain. He stabbed your back with his dagger.

You don't know how long this went on or how many times you were stabbed, you had blacked out for the fourth? fifth? time. When you woke, someone was taking your chains off again. As you waited to be dragged to the other room for more questioning, you heard Cass speak.

"No, I'm fine. Help her instead."

You felt strong arms wrap around you and lift you up. You slowly opened your eyes to see Lucien carrying you out of the dungeon.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

@darkbloodsly @xtreme-shipper @rcarbo1 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @anna-reader-blog @favsrachz @julesvanslutta @kitsunetori @i-am-infinite

[jjoongstar]

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏'𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒗

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

this can also be read as a stand alone! (prefer read the other parts too to feel more of the grief)

pairing: king!hongjoong x queen!reader (royalty au)

wc: 2.9k

genre: fluff, angst (like super angst)

a/n: i kinda went overboard with the wc, but please take note that this is the QUEEN'S POV. i don't want you guys to misunderstood the story, ok then, enjoy! sorry in advanced if there are any errors in it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

"do you want to be queen, y/n?"

"what?! you want me to marry your father?"

"NO!! Its not that,"

"then what is it, crown prince kim hongjoong?"

"I'm asking you to marry me and be my queen,"

"your proposal sounds like you're asking me out to play in the garden," you raised your eyebrow at him amusingly.

you both looked at each other and laughed whole heartedly under the shade provided by an oak tree on top of a hill.

the two of you have known each other since you were kids. as the daughter of the king's personal assistant, you two spent most of your lives running around playing with each other in the palace. you were always each other's company.

"CROWN PRINCE HONGJOONG!!!" the yelling of the maids and royal guards. looking for the young teenager.

behind the gate walls, you stood there with hongjoong, hand in hand, and your backs closely against the wall. he looks at you and shushed you to be quiet as he started running towards a direction pulling you with him by your entangled hands, forcing you to run with him.

passing through the village, over a small river, and a few trees not enough to be called a forest but enough to hid what was behind it. hongjoong closed your eyes with both of his hands, and carefully guided you. you gasp in amazement when he showed you the view. a wide meadow filled with tall bright golden petaled flowers. sunflowers.

"i know how much you really love sunflowers, so i planted them here myself, hidden and far away from everyone's sight," he said proudly to you. the only person who knew this meadow is just the two of you. you were left speechless, not knowing how to respond to him. it truly warms your heart to one of his love languages. his efforts showed his love for you.

"this shall be our secret place, my love," he pulls you into his embrace and you held him back tightly. feeling each other's heartbeat. he felt so pleasant and comfy.

"my future queen." he added and kisses the crown of your head.

after being officially engaged, hongjoong would always accompany you to all of your dress fittings. he loves the way every piece of clothing fits perfectly on you, and how it made you shine brighter.

"oh my god! you look so majestic in that color!!" he complimented you with doe eyes, adoring your figure.

you did a little twirl showing it off more to him and he squealed at how lovely you looked. it made his heart beats so fast and his face flushed red, he hid his face in his hands, too shy to show you his honest reaction. you can't help but laughed at him and took his hand away and lands a soft kiss on his cheeks. he felt so flustered with your bold reaction and not wanting to lose, he kisses your lips softly. he dragged you onto his lap and you both enjoyed kissing lovingly at each other and giggling in between.

it was the most grand and eventful wedding to ever be held. he was way more excited and thrilled than you were. he wanted the best for you, and he did. inviting guests from all affiliates, everyone in the country, every living being, he wanted the whole world to know that you're officially his. he had royal professional dressmakers custom you the most beautiful piece of wedding attire. gifting you rare and luxurious jewelleries. ordering royal cooks to prepare thousands of your favourite delicacies. he wanted everyone to know that its your signature dish. banners and posters of you two hung all over the country to celebrate.

he hired the most talented musicians to specifically play your favourite tune. fresh flowers decorated the entire palace walls. he ordered well know artistic painters to create the most magnificent portraits of you and so he hung them in his office. he loved you so dearly with all of his heart. though his words were not enough, he expressed them by showing you. tears of heartfelt stream down his face during the ceremony. you are his friend, his lover, his wife, his queen.

the people knowing their rulers were deeply in love with each other, they had hope for a very bright future for their country.

he had the maids prepared his quarters as to fit the two of you. he opposed the tradition of you having your own quarters. he wanted to be close to you at all times. sleeping next to you. waking up with you in his arms. spending night and day with you. share all those intimate times together. you had always have each other.

hongjoong appointed personal maids and servants to always accompany you and take care of your needs when he's not there beside you.

after years of reign, hongjoong was suggested by his royal advisor to have a concubine. it has always been a tradition passed down by generations. but he banished all of his father's concubine after the former king died and closed down the harem. knowing that only you holds his heart, he shall not need other women. but a dark hidden part of him wanted to agree with the advisor.

it took him months trying to figure out the words to you, but no words were needed. his actions spoke louder. he grew distant. he was less affectionate. and his mind wonders around whenever you talk to him. he didn't noticed he had neglected you until you finally spoke up when you knew about his plans during dinner.

"you want to bring back the harem?"

he choked on his food and you couldn't help but laugh at his reaction first then helped him before he suffocates himself to death.

"i understand with our current situation, i shall give you my permission, under one condition," you added.

the man didn't have time to explain it to you. but you were so understandable with the 'current situation'. he wanted, needed a successor. a child. a continuation of his bloodline. he looks at you attentively. his heart felt sorrow that you agreed to this idea.

"let me have my own quarters-"

"i object your request, my queen," he cuts you off. he denied your suggestion to be places further away from him.

"then do you want me to sit and watch in your room while you and your concubines bang and do your things??" a hint of amusement in your tone and a smirk on your face.

realisation hits the man in front of you and he averts his gaze away from you. he had never felt so embarrassed and stupid.

"its called giving privacy, you foolish king," flicking you fingers softly on hongjoong's forehead. he replied nothing but an amusing laugh at your humor. you called out for your head maid.

"prepare the empty quarters, move out all of my belongings from his majesty's quarters to there. it shall be mine from now on." the head maid was beyond shock when you gave her the orders. she kept on asking the reasons and you told her everything. she was one of the closest people you have in this palace.

even after the opening of the harem, and king's night was full of lust with his new concubines. every after intimate night he would head over your quarters, knocking softly on your door, begging you to let him in.

it surprised you at first but day by day it became a normal routine.

"it just doesn't feel the same without you. it felt so wrong," hearing out hongjoong's rants while having him laying down on your chest, his face snuggled in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. you ran down your fingers softly tracing indescribable patterns, comforting him.

but those nights and regime slowly vanish after he spent most of his nights with the same concubine.

during your usual stroll, you stumbled upon a young woman crouching at the bank of the small stream in the palace grounds. you approached her slowly not wanting to startled her but your shadow caught her attention. she stood up and bowed at you respectfully. glancing at her outfit, she must be the one.

"you must be his favourite," you stated and she looked up at you with a confused look.

'she does look adorable, i understand him now.' you thought to yourself.

"its nice meeting you my dear. be careful not to hurt yourself, okay." you smiled, patting her head and left her alone while you continue on your evening stroll.

you stumbled upon the same concubine again from a far on a lovely evening. she noticed your figure and came running down at you with something in her grasp. stopping in front of you, she squealed in excitement and bowed as usual.

"what's gotten you so excited?" you chuckled merrily at her behavior.

"i plucked these out for you, it reminded me of your beauty." she handed out a small bouquet of mix flowers to you and you took them wholeheartedly while your head maid looks at them in disbelieve.

"its so nice of you plucking out flowers in my own garden and gifting them back to me like this."

the woman in front of you gasped in shock. repeatedly muttering apologies. she wasn't informed of your garden. you were furious but it all faded away because they're flowers. and its because it reminded her of yourself.

flowers reminded you of someone too. someone who used to gift you endless fresh flowers everyday. it made you smile to yourself like a fool. you accepted her pleas and pats her head as usual and made your way.

"put these in a vase and place them in his majesty's office." you handed out the flowers to your head maid walking beside you.

your time spent with hongjoong was getting less day by day. some days you didn't even see him in your sight. you've miss him. his laugh. his smile. his voice. his touch. his kiss. his mere presence.

"hongjoong, would you-"

"not now, I'm busy, tell me later." he cuts you off when you stumbled each other at the hallway.

"what?" you mutter in disbelieve.

"I'm sorry, y/n, love, we'll talk tonight." and he left. leaving you with no further explanation.

you felt your knees weaken and you dropped down on the cold floor. all these time, he had never dismissed you. no matter how important the work was, he always puts you first. even during meetings with the ministers, he dismissed them all just to give you all his utmost attention.

tears streaming down your face unknowingly. your hands clawing at your aching heart.

you asked hongjoong for his opinion on your appearance, for you had dolled up a bit for him today. trying to win his heart back.

"you looked gorgeous as always, my queen," he replied as he held your face in the palm of his hands.

"i love you, hongjoong." you spoke and leans in onto his touch. eyes straight into his. a soft smile on his gorgeous face, but his eyes betrayed the words he admitted. there was no spark as it used to. your heart starting to swell in pain.

"i love you too, sweetheart," he replied with still flutters at the nickname he called you. sweetheart.

somehow it suddenly felt wrong. it felt one sided.

the day you needed someone. someone to hear out you rants. someone to hold you close. consoling you with sweet words. someone who understands you. a person? a friend?

your lover, you yearn for him.

making your way to his office asking his assistant for his presence but was denied as it was said he was busy. again. he's busy. turning around in defeat, but you did not take any steps away from the door. your ears perked upwards at the loud laughter emitted from behind the door. loud giggles of a woman. a very familiar woman.

you looked over at the servant and he bowed to you, understanding your feelings, he apologise in the king's behalf.

you gave him a bitter smile and made your way to your awaiting quarters. every step you take, the more you weep in silent.

every morning the king greeted you at breakfast but it doesn't sound sincere anymore.

every afternoon the king spent his time in his office. laughing away with another woman.

every evening the king enjoys his time strolling around the palace hand in hand with that other woman.

and every night the king made love with his woman. his dearest concubine.

your usual evening routine was disturbed and it felt like your world stopped moving when you laid your eyes on the king and his concubine walking side by side towards your direction.

you gasped in shock when you saw the flower in the concubine's hands. a bright golden petaled flower. a sunflower.

"y-you took her to our meadow?" you voice laced with hurt.

you clutched your heart filled with sorrow and ran away as fast as you could without looking back. not bothering the call of your name by the king and your maid. not minding either the tears gushing out of your eyes as you kept on running aimlessly. somewhere in the forest, you sat down leaning back against a random tree and wailed your heart out.

hongjoong looked for you everywhere. your quarters. the meadow. the oak tree. the palace grounds. the whole village. before the search order was executed, you made your presence in front of the gate.

all eyes were on you, especially his. your maid slowly approach before you stopped her and everyone else's movements and words with a simple raise of your hand.

"don't."

a simple word you uttered, but your tone holds more power to it. with an numb expression. your eyes bore into the king's eyes in nothing but emptiness. he felt hurt for once. but it wasn't even the slightest near as much as how you felt. he gave you space and dismissed everyone, including your loyal head maid. even the maid was more loyal than your own lover.

you waited for hours in your room, on your bed. waiting for hongjoong. you still had some faith in him and hoped that he would come knocking on your door. a part of you still wants him. then there it was, a knock.

"hongjoong!?" you sat up abruptly, eyes gleaming at the door in hope, but it died down in an instant when you saw the person.

"sorry I'm not the person you hoped for, your majesty," your maid.

"the sun has already risen." she added. you looked over the window. she's right. how could you not notice the light? maybe its because the light in you died.

you never expected to find the other woman in the throne room. your throne room.

"what's a whore lurking around in my throne room," you looked at her with arms crossed over your chest.

"sorry to disappoint you, but your king isn't here," you added with a sneer and you kept on insulting and hurting her feelings with nothing but the truth of her service to the king. it was until you were interrupted by the king's voice himself.

"Y/N!! i have never heard you speak with such obnoxious words. mind your language," you responded him with a simple scoff. rolling your eyes at him.

"you are to never speak ill of her ever again," he added while wrapping his arms around the woman's waist as she clings herself onto your man.

"you're joking..." you utter in disbelieve.

"my queen-"

"no, to make things clear. i am the queen of this country, the ruler of my people, and most of all, i am no longer the queen of your heart."

"don't say that, my love. you know how much i love you," his nickname of you still made your heart skip a beat. but his body was still attached to the other woman.

"your actions speaks louder than your words, your majesty."

his felt pain in his heart. for once you addressed him by his tittle. you had never done that. you said it would made you feel so distant from him. you both dropped all formalities between you two. never was a day was those nonsense tittles was used in your conversations, until today.

and the days after.

to my beloved,

the man who stood tall and proud,

the man who ruled my heart.

never have i regretted spending most of my life with you,

growing up with you,

enjoying my childhood with you,

going through my teenage years with you,

living my life with you by my side.

the oak tree that witnessed our bond,

the same tree you confessed your love to me,

the same tree that heard my pleas of missing you,

the same tree that witnessed your betrayal.

for the sunflower meadows we grew up with,

running chasing each other till our hearts content,

for we always awaited every year for them to bloom,

and every season they enjoyed our laughter,

until you had her,

leaving me to wither away.

your mere presence next to me,

you're so close yet so far,

my heart still yearns for you,

but does your heart yearns for me too?

your kisses felt nothing,

your embrace felt numb,

you've lost your spark,

what have i done?

what have you done to me.

you may have deceived my heart,

and i pray for you to not taint hers,

as you did with mine.

my king,

my husband,

my lover,

my friend,

whoever you are,

whoever you'll be,

I will endlessly love you till my last breath.

from yours beloved,

once ruler of your heart.

dividers

taglist: @seonghw4ffles @hwasong @julianatadesmaiada24 @engentiny @cloudy-lilly

[yuri-is-online]

(Scatters more Aceyuu birdfeed for the lovelies)

Imagine, when Yuu awoke in Twisted Wonderland, they didn't even have their own clothes--they were in the ceremonial robes--at best they're (probably) given a janitors uniform from Crowly when they first meet Ace. Fast forward a day or so when Ace decides to camp out at Ramshackle for the first time and he really sees your situation. You're not some nutjob and their badly trained pet who broke into the school, you are in trouble.

Cut to Ace finally moving back into his dorm after Riddle's overblot and Ace is going through his stuff (to make sure his roommates didn't mess with it) and he finds like, an old pair of pyjamas he doesn't really wear anymore. This shirt is pretty outdated fashion-wise too. And he has no idea why he packed this pair of shorts for school either! They could go to a good home, he supposed, before bunging his unwanted hand-me-downs in a bag and setting off back to Ramshackle. Trying to ignore the first signs of a pitter-pattering heart as he watches your face light up with realisation when you pull out his old clothes from an old sports bag. He knew you needed clothes but seeing how much this meant to you? Yeah, Ace is gonna be doing all sorts of things to take care of you now to keep that smile. And don't get me started about how he got butterflies the first weekend he went to see you and you were wearing his (ill-fitting) clothes!

After Book 4, Ace has another suitcase of "charity clothes" from home (if Yuu is fem presenting, then he might've asked his mum for her hand-me-downs so Yuu would have some more "girly" clothes, if that's what they want) only to come up short when going to deliver them too you as he sees Deuce wrapping his old leather jacket around your shoulders, or Jack giving you an old cardigan that you're just swimming in.

He can't help but feel betrayed, in a way, seeing you accept clothes from your other friends. Logically speaking, he knows you're not in a position to be turning down charity, but the sting of losing what felt like just a you two thing hurts. He's sulking and petty and got this stupid suitcase sitting in his room for weeks while he pouts, glaring daggers at Deuce for the betrayal (Deuce is just confused, he was just helping a homie stay warm since there's snow on the ground. Jack is at least aware of the connotations but likes returning the shit Ace sends his way).

Eventually it bubbles up to one day, when the group are studying in Heartslaybul, Deuce forgot his noted in his room and Yuu offers to grab them, noticing the suitcase they bring it up to the guys and Ace squirms as Deuce mentions how Ace brought it after winter break and hasn't touched it since. Everyone badgers him for what's in it and Ace won't admit it infront of everyone else there, you gotta get him alone so later on, Yuu broaches it again and he admits its more clothes but he felt stupid seeing you get more from everyone else (he plays it off like "didnt want you swamped with stuff you didn't want" or something) but Yuu perks up, asking what he brought and if he still wants to give them to them. Maybe accidentally admitting they still mostly only use Ace's old pj's because it smells like him because his stuffs just more comfy and they like his stuff more.

Something something small fashion show for Ace something something this got a lot longer than I intended uwahhhh.....

If Ace could go back in time he'd probably punch himself for all the comments he made before he started using his goddamn brain and LOOKED at your situation he would, but he can't so he instead does what Ace does best and looks out for you while pretending he's not doing that at all and does not care.

But the problem is of course that Ace does care. You open the door in his clothes and it really doesn't matter what you're saying anymore. He's forgotten why he's here, actually, instead there's a hum in the back of his skull that he likes. He likes seeing you in his pajamas, he likes spending time with you. Ace will never say it out loud, in fact he denies it every chance he gets, but he likes spending time with you and Deuce. The other first years are fun, and he likes the basketball club, but the two of you are the best use of his time. He doesn't even think about the others maybe wanting to help you out because he's the one who takes care of you. Not Deuce or Jack, him. Maybe he spends winter break thinking about you and going through his things. Maybe he has to hype himself up as he takes his duffel bag back because his mom teased him just a little too much about things running in the family.

Deuce giving you a leather jacket breaks something in him. Ace thought Deuce would have been drowning in attention based on the bad boy appeal alone and that jacket just cements it, even if the blank look his glares get sort of soothes the jealous ache somewhat. "Don't be rude Ace! No one likes having to rely on hand me downs-" Juice is so fucking stupid he doesn't know why he bothered being jealous. Jack's a different story though because on the one hand he "hates" the idea of appearing vulnerable but on the other hand there is a chance to dunk on Ace just waiting to be taken and that has to make up for temporary embarrassment. He could probably get Leona in on this too if he spins it the right way, wouldn't that be funny? Fine, Ace will just keep his things to himself since you... probably don't want them huh. Yeah, sure he swears you always wear his pajamas but that's because you don't have other clothes. You've got stuff now you don't need him. He's not the only person taking care of you... oh well!

When Yuu asks him about the suitcase he plays it off. "Just some extra stuff, you know. Parents am I right?" When everyone leaves he teases you about it because he's embarrassed and he needs to take it out somewhere.

"You really thought of me?" There's a look on your face that renders Ace speechless. "Thank you... I. You really didn't need to but if you have something similar to the pajamas..." You were wearing the shorts tonight. Come to think of it he hasn't seen you in Jack's shirt much. Deuce's jacket was meant to protect against the snow so it's not like he can

"You can have it." He mumbles, looking off to the side instead of into your eyes. "It's not like they weren't meant for you I just forgot about it you know?"

Maybe he'll buy you something next time, no one's done that yet right?

[kafkasmeow]

1 ꗃ A FAMILIAR TUNE

imagine! 7.2k words worth of slow-burn ─ dan heng x reader ─ second pov fem! reader ─ angst and fluff ─ father! jing yuan (strictly platonic) ─ i treated the reader more as an oc, i do apologise for that.

summery ─ leaving home was one of the hardest choices you’ve ever had to make, yet how could you stay when the life you lived could only ever bring you sadness and superficiality? 

aka dan heng x reader with mommy and daddy issues

disclaimer ─ this story may hold sensitive subjects such as mentioned death, neglect and the baggage that comes with it, mental illness, violence, harassment and talks of infertility. it has a very long introduction (my bad lol), a rather steamy end and takes inspiration from the original story line so be careful of spoilers and it was inspired by head-canons written here by @lyomeii , please go show some love. remember that this is a work of fiction and any names and characters written are my imagination alone. enjoy <3

taglist ─ @can-i-go-to-sleep-please ─ @can-i-stay-awake

There was a time when things felt easier, when the sun seemed to shine brighter despite the overwhelming shadow that was always cast on your family. You used to love the deep smell of green tea that enveloped the parlour each time the two of you took residence in it, and the wind that would swirl it around the whole of the office all while you laughed without a single care at the way it tugged your translucent shawl and hair. 

Jing Yuan adored that sound more than anything, it filled his heart with the warmest of contents yet the cruelest of longings. He would sip quietly on the tea you’d brewed for him and pretend to enjoy the frivolous moment with his eyes closed, but you both knew that when you looked away, another story would be told completely. 

Perhaps in reality, the sun never shined brighter than it seemed to and it was never easier to stomach. You were just too naive, too young to notice the thin cords bringing you and your father closer, and too ignorant to see the way they were slowly beginning to rip under the pressure. 

To the public eye, your father loved you more than anything in the world, that was no news to anyone atop the Xianzhou Luofu. You’ve always worn the most expensive silks to have ever been created, with the richest of accessories and jewels. Whenever a new Hanfu dress would reach your hands, he would parade you on the busiest streets himself, making sure everyone and their mothers would talk about it by noon the next day. 

He made sure you always had the most able and knowledgeable professors at your call, and if you ever needed anything, all you’d have to do is ask to whomever was closest to you at the very moment, and it would be fulfilled within seconds. Sometimes you didn’t know if the servants did it out of admiration for your father or obligation.

Jing Yuan made sure you never needed or wanted for more. Materially, that is. 

And things were bound to change as you grew, especially as he cruelly presented you to the scrutiny of high society. 

You quickly grew to understand that it was his way of apologising, like a crow that would chip away at your skin then bring you trinkets of appreciation. When you sat and listened to some woman criticise that your dress was too frivolous for the event, too out of fashion for society and that none of your jewels matched, he did not do much but smile and pat your shoulder. 

“Little [Y/n] will learn from your kind advice.” He assured her, but you barely held in a snort of frustration. When the other women joined in, when they begun pulling at your hair to adjust it, when they hit your hands with their fans as you purred tea for not angling your elbows right, when they shamed you as the hall hollered with laughter, he watched and smiled, so you took a deep breath and smiled back to everyone around you too.

Later that very evening he found you with tears running on your cheeks, a box of red and gold velvet in his hands. Your father did not speak, nor did he show much emotion on his face and it angered you. You wished to yell, to protest for the fact that he had not jumped to your defence, but as you opened the box, all protests died on your lips and the tears stilled, hands shaking at the most beautiful jade hair pin you’ve ever seen.

But his gifts stopped making up for his emotional absence around the third time it happened. 

And you knew they all watched you like a hawk. Every move you’d make before the higher ups would be analysed on a scale of “good enough” or “weak” by none other than your father’s so called friends, while every single gesture before the public was like pulling needles off your skin. Yesterday you wore your Hanfu scandalously low on your cleavage, today you didn’t say thank you when the guard accompanying you opened up your parasol, tomorrow you won’t hold your tea cup quite right and so on. 

Usually it was easy to ignore.

But that was before the daughters of the noblest of houses would begin to alienate you for shallow reasons, and before the sons of each commissioner would size you up as nothing but easy stock to win over, an easy marriage in the pocket, or so they thought. 

It was easy for them to have the audacity to criticise you to your face or try to win you over, after all, you were nothing but a spoiled brat who’s never heard no for as long as she’s lived. Surely, you’ve never faced a single hardship, so the public felt righteous enough to scold you into it while for those within you were noting but a charity case. 

So you tried to learn all you could, so you’d never feel as less in front of others ever again. Since the very evening of your debut, you insisted on having a book under your arm, a needle in your hand, a sword at your hip, or a qin in your lap while tea cups simmered on a table. It felt easier to overlook the loneliness when you did. You found that after a certain age, it felt comforting even to worry about making it in time to granny Hua’s qin lessons while leaving the swordplay hall behind, rather than sit pretty in a room and wait all day for your father to finish his duties as a general. There was no more room at social events for rude interventions, and no more room in your mid for uncomfortable questions to ask while doing so, really.  

But you couldn’t avoid them for an eternity, that was for sure. And neither could Jing Yuan, for even in tranquil moments when peace had the taste of green tea and the smell of fresh air after rain, your twinkling eyes were still a carbon copy of how hers were. 

In the better of these days, your father would pretend to laugh at a joke you made, while you pretended to be satisfied with his reaction. You’d move a piece on the xiangqi board with elegant hands and chatted about the latest passage you read in a philosophy book, and he hummed in agreement while placing his own piece down. A cleverly crafted strategy to his own defeat, one that you felt content with following despite the fragile shame that came with it. 

It was a play you both excelled at most, after all.

At the worst of it all, you can’t understand his harsh voice as he yells “That is enough, [Y/n]!” while slamming his tea cup on the table. The whole room would shake at his warning, but your hunger for answers was much stronger than any fear, so you really can’t understand his fury when you yell back “Father! It is not!” He look at you with sorrow in his heart and his eyes were twisted by a pain you’d never understand, as he could only see her in you. 

“I will not have this conversation with you!” He’d warn again, but you took it as an invitation to push even further. “I don’t know the first thing about my mother, Jing Yuan! Her name? Never heard of it. Her face? Never seen it. Do you not think it is cruel, father?” Hot tears streamed on your perfect porcelain cheeks, smearing the red eyeliner you had painted on. “No one ever speaks about her to me, everyone refuses to. But they all look at me like I’m some kind of…” Your voice trailed off with hard puffs and sobs. “Like I’m some kind of…” 

His own chest puffed and the sight of you felt like a stab to his heart. You couldn’t get your words out, you didn’t need to really. People constantly looked at you in one of two ways, no matter how perfectly you’ve learned to craft your smiles, or how good your tea brewing had became, you were either a charity case they’d pity, or a spoiled brat that knew none of what the real world would offer.

 But despite all of his anger, he was still your father, and as much as he loved to punish himself trough you, he still held back the need of snapping the heads off all of their shoulders. He would reach for the back of your neck with his hand, bringing you into his chest in a half hug. “You are enough. Never forget that.” He’d kiss the crown of your head and inhale the floral smell of your hair. It grounded him, even as you screamed into his chest and pushed him away, his grip stayed firm until you’d shed your last tear and you cried your last sob. 

Because despite of how much you hated to admit it, you were living and breathing for his approval, which you seemed to never ever gain.

Unbeknownst to you, everything about you was just like her. Your face, your hair, even the way you wore your Hanfu  a little out of place with the shawl falling all over the floor when you walked, or your mannerism as you spoke with a tiny accent on your tongue, it was all her and nothing of his except the mole under your left eye. You’ve never met her, he tried to reason. You’ve never seen her or heard of her deeds. Your mother has been an enigma to you ever since you could remember things, and yet the world punished him with her perfect copy in you when he tried to push her memory away the most. 

It felt bittersweet. To the outside eye, general Jing Yuan adored his daughter more than anything else in the world. But underneath the jewellery, there were unaddressed feelings, each pearl you wore for people on the Central Starskiff Heaven to see was a tear unshed, each new dress was a silent apology they’d never hear, each loving promenade you’d have with your father was there to hide for the public a question you asked when the cord was too tensed. One of these days it would snap in half, you were sure of it. 

So who could blame you when it all overflowed? When you could no longer smile in the face of those who envied you and when your father’s emotional absence felt like a hallow painting of what should have really been? When the dresses and the jewels weren’t smothering the pain any longer?

You felt it daily, building up, pressing down, tugging at your smiles until they became frowns and empty stares, and your ever growing depression was evident for anyone that roamed the gardens outside your window at night, as your qin carried into the world the saddest tune your heart feared to voice. And this time, not even a Hanfu made out of golden thread would ease your pain. 

“So, say you, general,” 

Your father hummed back to the woman before him as he placed his piece down on the board. Another noble nodded in agreement with his choice behind him. You saw them all from where you were sitting, fingers strumming the qin in a delicate tune for the whole room to enjoy, while gin purred from flasks and laughter echoed somewhere in the back. It wasn’t like you to agree partaking in parties like these, but how could you turn Jing Yuan down when he asked you to serenade him at the event?

“I would say you’d want to keep your daughter closest to you, am I not right?” The wicked tone in the noble’s voice made you shiver underneath the silver shawl that draped off your shoulders. “Quite so I fear, why is that?” 

“Well, I hoped to reach you when I first heard the news, but I was quite busy, yous see?” The woman, an esteemed elder of the Artisanship Commission, hid her face behind what was possibly the most obnoxious fan you’ve ever seen, and your fingers became stiff on the metal strings of your trusted instrument. “Pardon me?” The general stilled his movements on the xiangqi pieces while the chattering went quiet. Nothing but your trembling notes filled the air.

“You know, I wished to give you my deepest condolences the moment I heard. For your daughter’s… unfortunate situation, that is.” Confused, Jing Yuan tilts his head to where you stood, only to be met with the same questions on your face that you desperately tried to drown as you played your melody. He chuckled awkwardly, then, and returned his attention on the game. “I fear I don’t know what you’re going on about, ma’am.”

“Ah… You know, the fact that your daughter is unable to bear children has quite saddened us all. I was looking forward to sending my son as a potential suitor!” 

If eyes could kill, you would be sure that the place where the woman stood would have become scorched dust. An involuntary scoff left your lips loud enough to draw attention, but you pretended to be engrossed with tuning your qin before beginning to play another piece for the hall. 

“And where have you heard such news, I wonder?” But she held no fear in her eyes. 

“Well, for one, everyone in high society talks about it! You see, your daughter is already past the age of accepting suitors yet has never even been seen with a man, so people assume. That being said I personally was told so by a doctor that works under you, your grace.” 

‘Lies’, you told yourself, but it was not enough to cool the blush you had on your cheeks from embarrassment, no matter how much you have been shamed by the public eye, nothing could compare to this very moment now. 

“Is that so,” Your father trailed off, then placed his piece on the xiangqi board. “Well, from what I know, your son is welcome to send in his suitor application, for my daughter is more than healthy and cared for. In fact, now that I think about it,” But you didn’t wish to hear any more. 

With a sudden move, you jumped from your seat to your feet and rushed to gather the qin underneath its silk cloth. The commotion drew attention to you, and so murmurs begun filling your ears which only fed your ever growing shame. “Please excuse me.” You voiced as you bowed deeply to the room of lords and nobles, then picked up your instrument and hurried to the exit with a strained “Please enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

And you hoped that would be the last you’ve heard of it all, but as fate wanted it, that was far from how things would play. 

“Father! This is ridiculous!” You protested. For all reason and purposes, it really was. 

Not even a full day after what happened, he invited you to serve tea with him in the parlour. You found it odd, as he never requested your presence on Tuesday afternoons, but did not complain as you stepped into the room with haste. 

He took his time finding the courage to face you, and when he understood he would not be able to deliver the news to you with a straight face, he pushed a stack of paper to you without even meeting your eyes. There, in red ink, was your fate sealed by a simple signature. An agreement that had been made without your knowledge or permission, and a wound that would become the reason for the demise of cord that held your family together.

Marriage certificate. 

No one knows what was truly discussed that night in the evening, but what was known was that you’ve fled with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. And for better or for worse, that would become the last time anyone on the Xianzhou Luofu had seen you under the identity of the general’s daughter, for you found no more room in your heart for the pain that followed with it.

“You know, when you put it like that, I do think that green works best with coral!” March eagerly nodded her head, while Dan Heng took his time analysing Himeko’s theory. You and welt only listened to the conversation with one ear, while the other was being filled with questions over questions from Stelle. 

“I don’t believe that’s a wise move.” You chirped as Welt placed the piece down, and you followed with a quick movement that gained you his general. He groaned and pushed his glasses up away while massaging the bridge of his nose. Stelle wowed and wood at your victory, and March leaned from her seat across the express’ parlour with a “really?” look in her eyes. 

“You lost again, M. Yang?” 

“I swear I’m good at this game.” And you chuckled while placing the pieces back into their pouch. “Used is a keyword.” March continued to tease while everyone watched your movements, which, weirdly, felt more calming than before your time on the express. In truth, it was because they never snickered underneath their palms and never cherry picked your posture until you’d get it wrong. 

That being said, you could only care for one person’s eyes alone, and his stare felt like electricity on the back of your neck. 

“How did you learn to play like this, anyways? You’re like a mad genius at these.” Stelle intervened, and you couldn’t help but shiver as your father’s knowing eyes came into your mind. “Ah…” was all that escaped your lips, before you cured your pained expression in a calm and lovely smile. “My father taught me how to play. He always made it so I would win, though. Therefore, for the longest time I believed I was quite bad at it too.” 

Your voice felt like crystal in the quiet room, so quiet and soft to the ear that it was more akin to a melody than a spoken sentence. You never truly talked about your home, never about your family of your past, which is exactly why your friends turned to you with a cocktail of shocked expressions. Despite how polite and proper you always were, whenever someone asked about it, you would have the coldest glare thrown their way, sure, involuntarily, but scary nonetheless, and with time the crew learned to not ask about a past you so much wished to hide.

Despite that, they never judged you for any of it, not even when your friendship has been tried over and over by your cold heart. You were never outright rude per se, but distant hit the nail in the head best. When Himeko would extend an invitation to a “coffee party” for the crew as an example, you refused with a polite smile that felt ripped out of etiquette teaching picture books, saying you prefer tea instead. 

She feared you’d be left out, you feared being the centre of attention. 

“I believe I’ll head in for the day.” You spoke after finishing to arrange the xiangqi pieces on the board. March left out an “Oh…” and you could hear the sad face in her voice. Amongst the others, she was the saddest when you chose to sit the Xianzhou Luofu out, as ever since your addition to the crew, you never turned down an adventure. You explained that your bones hurt from the cold of Jarilo-VI and that you needed a rest, and with Stelle at their side, you were sure they would have no problems getting trough this one trail-blazing adventure. Sure, it was a bit of a shock for Himeko and Welt, but to March? It was a tragedy. Her new bestie leaving her behind? She swore the world would end.

“Please, have a safe journey and a swift return.” 

You nodded your head their way before picking up the xiangqi game and reaching for the door. Your fingers grazed the digital pad just in time to hear Dan Heng’s voice behind you. “I will do the same, didn’t quite finish storing the data bank after Jarilo-VI.” 

And so you ended up side by side, walking trough the corridors of the Express. However, as you stepped past his make-shift room, you found his steps synced with yours still and, confused, you turned to face him and painted one of your signature smiles. Fake but pretty all the same. 

“Can I help you, Dan Heng?”

It was exactly that cold yet perfect, more-like-a-painting-than-an-actual-human attitude that made Dan Heng distrust you from the moment you stepped on the Express. You left everything to speculation in a way in which even your clothes were a mass of black and colourless, without any culture behind or any story at all to tell. Always in a bland attire with no accessories at all. March made fun of you for being so tasteless, but he saw past the appearance.  He saw past the way you acted and into the way you wilded your swords like cranes flying in the wind, the way you prepared and steeped tea, and the way you handled xiangqi and go pieces like a native only could.

He peered into your eyes in a way that made you unravel before him without a single word, and he knew it was to hide a side of you that you’ve hidden deeply to the rest. But not quite to him.

And while he was trying to get over a sense of danger in you, fed by your secrecy, you found peace in his presence. Unbeknownst  to him, he was the one thing that reminded you of home and the good in it despite it all. If your memories were filled with torment and loneliness, he was the smell of freshly baked red bean sticky rice cakes in the market, or the sound of wind chimes in the summer rain. He was all of the little things you wanted to push away but found comfort in, and you didn’t know if you loved it or hated him for it.

“Yes, actually.” He nodded. “I find I can’t sleep as of late and I wanted to try one of your calming brews.” You frowned at his words but gave in without asking much, which he greatly appreciated. “Very well, please join me for some tea tonight, then.” And silence settled between you two as you lead him to your cabin with unease rolling off your shoulders. 

Your room was much like your clothes. Simple and colourless besides the coffer next to your bed, which was unmistakably made with the mastery of a Xianzhou artisanship. But if he noticed it, he didn’t speak on it at all, nor about the low table in the middle of the room that was in the same style, or… well really about anything. You appreciated that most. Even when you settled on the table a traditional set of cups, a clear tea spreading the most enchanting and calming aroma from them, he did not speak a single word.

As he drank, his eyes rested on your covered qin that sat atop your bed, and he did not need to speak for you to understand his intentions. You sat down quietly on the covers, revealing the  simple instrument like a truth you’d usually hide from. And he couldn’t help but watch you with sadness in his heart as you tuned the strings with shaky hands ‘till crystal clear notes echoed trough the room. 

You took a heavy inhale and looked upon the dark ebony wood as if greeting an old friend before propping it on your lap, but couldn’t handle to meet Dan Heng’s eyes. At least not when he stared at you as if he knew every single secret you feared to tell. 

As you raised your hands in the air, getting ready to pull at the string, his own palm engulfed your exposed skin in an unspoken plea, and you couldn’t help but give into his warmth. He pulled gently until your face was buried into his shoulder and his other arm was in your hair, and you didn’t even notice it when silent tears begun to stain the fabric of his coat. He didn’t protest nor ever addressed it, and you preferred the feeling of his body against yours to the coldness of his eyes on a normal day. 

As such, you spent the evening together afterwords. Him silently sipping on the calming tea as the sorrowful yet comforting sound of the qin filled your bedroom, until there were no more tears to shed and the pot on the table had gone cold. 

No one wanted to admit it, but it had to be said. Something changed between you and Dan Heng from then on and the first one to notice it was none other than March. 

They were getting ready to leave the express when she stated it for the whole crew to hear. 

“Is it me or are the two of you like, in love or something now?” She arched one of her eyebrows while her lips rested in a scowl. Now, don’t get her wrong she was more than happy for you two if it was the case, but what she could not stand for was the two of you ditching the adventure to enjoy a date over tea and qin music again. 

“March, what kind of nonsense are you onto again?” You huffed with cherry red ears, while Dan Heng choked on the water he was previously drinking. All she could do was wave her hand while saying “yeah yeah,” over and over with a bored face before they set out on their way, but not before Welt pinned the two of you down with a knowing look.

The express stilled with their absence, reinforced by Pom-Pom who claimed to have some cleaning to do somewhere in the Express and Himeko who had some paperwork to finish. The parlour felt almost empty, despite Dan Heng’s presence right next to you. He still held his fist over his mouth as if preparing to cough, cheeks dusted pink and eyes on the starry sky before you, but he didn’t say a word about what happened. And something in you told you to follow his lead. 

You ate quietly at the sticky rice cake you tried your hand baking, and although the taste was very different from what you remembered, it was still as good as ever. With a tissue all crumpled up in your hand, you resulted to watching the sky along side your new friend, eyeing the stars one by one as they passed by. Yet you found your eyes sliding lower and lower from the window to the man before you, who you found already watching you with wide eyes. As if caught in headlights, he stammered out an incoherent string of words but did not move his gaze, not even as his body leaned to yours until his hand grazed your chin. 

You shuddered at his icy touch, but did not dare to move, not even as his fingertips reached for your lips. He gently wiped your lips then brought his thumb to his own mouth, licking off the excess red bean cream from the cake, and you were absolutely sure your face would explode from how hot it get in that very moment. “You had a bit,” He started, but his mouth closed shut when he noticed the dazed stare in your eyes. “Oh aeons, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” His voice shook and his own ears turned scarlet red, only now realising what he has done. You shook your head, head turning  so you could focus on the floor as if the tiles below your feet were now the best sight you have ever seen. “Ah, not at all! I was just surprised, ‘tis all.” Your sweaty palm gripped the tissue tighter. “Would you like some?” And Dan Heng looked at the half eaten cake you extended to him with an expression you’ve ever seen him give March or Stelle. He stared at the cake in his hands with a wholehearted fondness. “Yeah.” Was all he could manage to whisper back.

And somewhere in the back, you swore you heard Himeko giggle to herself. 

The same evening, you would hear three soft knocks on your door in the dead of night. There, in the hallway, with a sweat filled forehead and uneasy complexion, stood Dan Heng, and you would be a fool not to extend a hand to him when he begged for help with his tired eyes. 

“Quit hiding!” The criminal’s voice rang trough your head like a broken mantra. “Your true form… reveal it!” Dan Heng did his best to dodge the maniac attacks, all while you and Yanqing stood in an awkward stalemate in the middle of the platform.

Your blade screeched against Yanqing’s, but it was like fighting fire with fire, simply useless. No matter how lowkey you’ve been upon reaching the Xianzhou, he needed one singular look to know exactly who you were, even underneath the mask that covered the lower half of your face.

“You, little..” You trailed off with effort. Despite his usual sense of justice, that you’ve always commanded, his attacks felt awfully biased as he strikes your blade repeatedly with his icy ones. His technique felt as familiar as home did, her teaching seeping in his bones trough and trough, but so did  your father’s into yours, which you’ve had much more time to perfect than the little lapdog did. 

“Move, you idiot!” And with one harsh push of your blade, the young boy was off his feet, giving you enough time to reach Blade before he could get any damage done on Dan Heng. You yelled with each strike you struggled to par, until his crazy red eyes widened in glee and his sword flew from his hands and right by your chin. The sound of your friend’s cry in agony and the blade tearing trough skin and bone made you pause, and horror struck you as you refused to turn around and to even acknowledge what had happened. “You!” Was all you could let out, sword still pointed straight to Blade’s neck.

“I have news for you.” He laughed, and you took a step back. You would lie if you said your insides didn’t churn with fear, even as he was left completely disarmed before you.

“Behind you… Is none other,” The sound of water engulfed your ears as your head snapped back. “Than the traitor of the Xianzhou. A criminal, forever banished!” Your eyes widened as the barrier around Dan Heng rippled, leaving a water-made dragon to escape with rage all over its face. It roared and turned in the air, coiling until it fell right back to where it came from, and when light and wind filled the platform, you couldn’t help but shield your form with your arms. 

“The High Elder of the Vidyadhara… Imbibitor Lunae.” 

The hold on your sword weakened. You shuddered as the man you grew so attached to revealed himself before you in a form you’ve recognised from your father’s tales. Long silky hair and cold green eyes, horns and tail and lotus flowers and everything that made the Vidyadhara so revered. You could hardly believe your eyes. With a weak step forward, you pulled at the mask to reveal your strained expression, sword falling to your side numbly. 

“You really believed that the Stellaron Hunters were the only ones to infiltrate the Xianzhou?” 

Cold air begun pulling at your hair, and you shook off your stupor when Yanqing begun summoning his ice swords. Your body acted before your mind did at the new threat and your sword was back up within seconds, posture ready for a clash. 

“A wanted criminal, a banished person and a deserter. In this case, I will bring all three of you to justice!” 

The fight ended before it could even begin properly. Yanqing was strong, but Jingliu’s teaching could only get him so far against the three of you. Blade begun striking without mercy, taunting you and Dan Heng for holding back. “What’s wrong, your grace? Scared to harm the boy?” The criminal laughed as you sent only one out of the spirit swords you summoned towards Yanqing. Flashes of electricity begun shining trough your hair with anger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do more. Not  even when Dan Heng delivered the final strike with a silent apology. 

Yanqing’s knees begun to buckle just as Kafka yelled “All of you, listen to me - stop!” 

You couldn’t help but stumble back, swords falling out of existence as Dan Heng’s feet stepped back on the floor and Blade’s weapon vanished before your eyes. “Well, Bladie? Are you satisfied?” She mused and he only hummed in response. 

“…What did you do?” Dan Heng called after a moment of silence. “Just clearing the stage for the grand entrance. Can’t have the four of you misbehaving in front of the Luofu’s hotshot general.” Your shoulders stiffened as a familiar laughter filled the platform. All heads turned towards the sight, yet you stayed rooted on your feet, back turned and head shaking in denial. “No, not like this.” You whispered. 

“Jing Yuan,” Blade huffed. “General!” Yanqing followed. 

The man stared at the sighed before him with a knowing smile just as you got the courage to turn and face him. If he felt anything upon the sight of you, he did not show it. “Many years have passed since the three of you have departed the Xianzhou, and yet the circumstances of your return appear to be equally unhappy. If you still thought of me as a friend,” His eyes went straight to yours, unspoken words weighting you down as you found it harder and harder to breathe. ‘As family’ was what he wished to say, yet he held back. “You should’ve forewarned me.” 

“My task is complete.” Was all the blade said. “Mhm. That it is.” Your father laughed in return. “Thank you for assisting the Xianzhou in this small matter. Take this person away, I will pretend I didn’t see anything this time.” He stated harshly despite Yanqing’s protest. Jing Yuan then stared at Dan Heng as the two Stellaron Hunters made their way to the boat at the edge of the platform. “It has been a long time, old friend.” But your friend answered harshly. “I’m not him.” 

“Mh. I’m sorry. You cannot leave yet, however. Your astral express friends are still waiting for you in Scalegorge Waterscape. Shall we go and see them together? And you…” The moment you have been trying to prepare yourself for most had arrived, and your father’s smile died on his lips as his eyes analysed your face. 

“I missed you terribly, my sweet flower.” Dan Heng stiffened next to you, but his hand fingertips grazed yours in protectiveness, to which you could only respond by accepting his palm into yours. The familiar nickname brought tears into your eyes, and despite the coldness of his face, your father’s voice felt like a familiar little tune you new by heart. Like a warm hug when you needed it most. How you wished you could’ve just forgotten it all and jumped into his chest, just like how you did when you were nothing but a sprout on two legs. 

“That being said, we will continue this conversation later. I’m afraid your friends might be in trouble, you see.”

You didn’t know how time had passed so fast, more like a blur than anything, truthfully. Your eyes were opened wide on the platform between the Xianzhou and Scalegorge Waterscape, blade in hand and senses aware as you parred each of the attacks your way. Then you blinked, and when you reopened them, a familiar sight greeted you. 

Three cups of steaming green tea on a low rise table, a board of xiangqi and pieces of go scattered all over the table. A sacred silence engulfed the room, besides the occasional sound of the chess pieces falling into place, and none of you could bring yourselves to shatter it just yet. 

Dan Heng watched you play with patience while occasionally bringing the cup to his lips, now back into the form you grew so familiar with. You hated to admit it, but his presence comforted you. It gave you the strength to hold yourself together in a situation in which you would have certainly shattered if alone, and your father’s keen eye did not glass over that fact. 

You sighed peacefully when your chariot was finally occupied in the middle of the palace, on your father’s side, in a perfect centroid checkmate. The man before you leaned back and sighed, a puzzled expression on his face. “You just had to go and get better than me at this game, did you not?” But you didn’t answer. You still didn’t know what to say, really. Were you feeling guilty for deserting your spot as a cloud knight? For leaving your father behind? Or for bailing on your responsibilities as his daughter? Well, no not quite, so apologising for it felt…strained and forced. But one thing felt real as your eyes met his and Dan Heng’s hand reached for yours across the table. You missed him terribly just as much. 

“Every single day that passes shapes you more and more like her.” He added. “I wish you could’ve been by my side for them all.” 

“Jing Yuan…” You whispered back, but he didn’t let you finish. “If your mother was here with us today, I assure you, my sweet flower, that things would have been so different.” For a moment, you could hear nothing but your heart beating against your chest.

“You are just like her. And I truly mean it. Your face, your personality, darn it all even the way you speak. And, as your father, I wish I could’ve offered you a better life.” 

“You did all you could.” Funny how even now, you were the one to reach with a warm heart, how you were the one to comfort and forgive, even when his heart couldn’t yield. 

“Not quite. I was foolish and believed that a firm hand would prepare you for the cruelty of the world. I failed to see, no. I failed to change when I saw that it was harming you more than anything.” You let out a sigh you’ve held in for a very long time and closed your eyes, a last attempt at holding in the tears you wished so disparately to shed. 

“I love you, father. Nothing will ever change that. However,” Despite how your hand shook in Dan Heng’s, your voice stood firm, and as you opened your eyes, both men shivered at their determination. “An apology, no matter how needed, will never make up for what has been. If this is your way of asking me to stay, I fear I’ve made my choice.” 

But his ever knowing smile was back on his lips, and his laughter caught you off guard. Your fingers tightened on Dan Heng’s fingertips, who had stayed quiet as you and your father voiced what both of you ever feared to before. 

“You see, that was not my intention. That being said, if you ever did wish to return, there will always be room for you into my arms, my darling flower.” And you only nodded back, lips slightly parted in surprise. 

“We should head out.” Dan Heng whispered to you after the tea had been finished and the conversation ended. He tapped the skin of your palm with gentle fingers, a quiet way of asking for your attention. His eyes were stricken with tiredness, and you doubted that yours were any better, excusing the puffiness brought by your tears. 

“Ah yes, I forgot!” The general mused. “There is no need to return to that hotel for the night. I asked for your room to be prepared, for you and your lover here. So you could rest comfortably before leaving.” The moment could be best described by a broken record being pulled abruptly from its recorder and screeching in your head. You eyed Dan Heng who refused to meet your gaze and who’s ears became scarlet red once more. “Father!” You protested. “He- He’s not-”

“Save it, [Y/n]. At least invite me if you do ever get married.” 

“Dad!” Shame engulfed you as you pushed Dan Heng out of the room all while the sound of Jing Yuan’s laughter taunted you from behind the doors of the seat of Devine Foresight. You couldn’t help but whisper muffled apologies into your hand that tried to shield your burning face from anyone that would watch, which in truth was as effective as searching for a needle in a haystack. 

What you didn’t expect was for Dan Heng’s hand to find yours and move it away, revealing cherry red cheeks that matched his own. He cleared his voice before leaning in just enough for his breath to fan over your ear as your back met the closed doors behind you. “I would not mind if I was.” He whispered before his velvet soft lips rested against the exposed skin of the back of your palm. You were sure your knees would’ve given in if it wasn’t for his arm that hooked around your waist, bringing you so close to him you shuddered. 

“I really would not mind it.” 

Later that evening, as his teeth grazed your exposed skin before kissing it with sweet words of praise, as your hands intertwined and your bodies became one under the silk sheets of your bed, you could tell that your heart began singing a familiar tune. With each kiss from Dan Heng’s, a new feeling invaded your senses. You were home. Here with him, in this very moment. You were home in his arms. 

And you wouldn’t changed it for anything else. 

Yes, not even as March yells “I fucking knew it!” the next morning, for the whole of Xianzhou Luofu to hear, upon seeing your neck caked in love marks you had no means of hiding and your hand held tightly by Dan Heng, who only smiled back to everyone as you buried your face into his chest with shame. 

[sleepw-me]

BF/GF HEADCANONS JJK⊹ ₊ ˚ 𓂃 ⸝⸝ ♡

Jujutsu Kaisen version SFW

y.itadori⸝⸝ ♡ I think everyone knows this, but let me remind you of his red shoes. I think he would be A person who likes to wear Jordans or something like that. So I imagine him lending you his shoes and you swapping them together, it's pretty sweet. he just gives you his Sneakers, and together maybe you have matching pairs?

m.fushiguroi⸝⸝ ♡ It's hard for him to show the love he has for you. Give him some time and when you walk through the streets of Shibuya together on your way to the cafe, he will hold his hand close to yours, then his little finger, spec with yours. When it's cold, he puts your hand in his jacket pocket and warms your hand there.

s.geto⸝⸝ ♡ On your first date, Geto took you to the aquarium, you walked together holding hands, from time to time he took pictures of you on the camera. One time you saw that one of your photos from that date was with his phone and the other one was hidden in his wallet. It's like he always has you with him.

s.gojo⸝⸝ ♡ He's rich and everyone knows it, that's why he takes you to rich restaurants and wants you to wear that new dress he bought you, you look great in it. He will give you flowers and a beautiful necklace for your anniversaries.

y.okkotsu⸝⸝ ♡ Sweet Yuta takes you on picnics, it's a beautiful sunny day and you both lie peacefully on a blanket among the grass and flowers. Sometimes Yuta reads to you the book he took with him and at that time you make him a flower wreath, offering him strawberries or other fruits from time to time.

n.kugisaki⸝⸝ ♡ She loves going shopping with you. You go wherever you want, try on clothes and have a great time. After shopping, you go to some cute restaurant, take photos of the food and post it on Instagram, bragging to everyone about your nice date, then you gossip and go home with shopping and a good mood.

s.ieiri⸝⸝ ♡ Every now and then you paint her nails, listening to music playing on your phone, you both sit on a bed full of blankets and talk or gossip. After finishing work, she kisses you every time and compliments you on how good a girl you are to her.

k.nanami⸝⸝ ♡ He is a morning person, he always goes to the bakery in the morning to buy fresh bread. Then he comes back to your shared apartment and makes you breakfast and coffee or tea, whichever you prefer. He wakes you up with kisses all over your face and sets the breakfast tray on the bed.

t.fushiguro⸝⸝ ♡ This man is big, everyone knows that. When he is with you, he can always protect you, although when he is with you, probably no one would dare to approach you. That's why he started teaching you self-defense because when he's gone, he wants his girlfriend to be able to fend for herself. It's sweet seeing how sometimes he holds back from using all his strength on you just because he's afraid he'll seriously hurt you.

c.kamo⸝⸝ ♡ He didn't have a childhood like all children, so you made it your goal to watch cartoons with him that you watched when you were a child and eat delicacies that reminded you of your childhood. You both cuddle together on the couch, under fluffy blankets and stuffed animals. Don't be surprised when you see him crying during the "coco" cartoon.

t.inumaki⸝⸝ ♡ This boy doesn't talk much, and sometimes he's afraid that his actions don't say enough that he loves you. That's why he leaves little cards in random places where he knows you will be, with words of affirmation and compliments on the cards.

t.ino⸝⸝ ♡ He's good at dancing, don't argue with me. He stands in front of the TV and turns on some hip hop music so you can dance together and see you move your hips, he loves it very much. If you don't know how to dance, he will be happy to teach you many moves, which will probably end in a tickle fight.

k.muta⸝⸝ ♡ I think he's such a nerdy boy. He's great with computers, so he's probably helped you fix something more than once. This sweet boy will even build a little invention for you. He will spend hours or even days just to give you that little item and see the smile on your face.

r.sukuna⸝⸝ ♡ Sukuna is possessive, even at home. When you want to work on the laptop in peace, he immediately lifts you from sitting at the desk as if you weighed nothing and puts you on his lap. When you look at him with a surprised face, he just asks - 'what do you want?'

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 2:

She dreamed of paradise

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 1 here.

Warnings: explicit domestic violence and abusive relationships. Descriptions of physical violence. Reader is married and has a child.

Summary: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

Steve was strangely calm on the way home. He had asked the sheriff for permission to take you and Willy away during his lunch break with the excuse that he was worried about the disappearance of women that had been happening in town, just like an ideal husband, but you knew the real reason, he wanted to keep an eye on you.

"Well?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at you.

You knew it was best to let him speak first, so you waited for Steve to start, no matter how tense you were.

"The FBI guy, what did he want?"

"Nothing much, he was just playing with Will, he knew magic tricks."

You didn't mention the terror you felt when you saw that your son wasn't by your side, he could never relate to that, he could never understand the deep emptiness that existed inside you when Will wasn't around. He was all the light you needed.

"And you let some stranger talk to our son? I can't leave you two alone anyway."

Sometimes you didn't quite understand Steve's intentions, even though you knew there was a reason behind everything.

"He's FBI, isn't he?"

It was a risky move, rebutting what he was saying. Luckily for you, it seemed to be a good day, because he did nothing but raise an eyebrow and snort.

"I don't want you two anywhere near that guy."

You just nodded, distracted as you wondered what was so special about Dr. Reid that Steve reacted like that, your curiosity piqued. Was he trying to push you away from one more person before any bonding had even begun? Surely he couldn't have been afraid that you would turn him in since you had already understood a long time ago that no one would help you or even give you a second glance. If I could go back in time, I would have run as soon as Steve showed interest in joining the police. A bunch of conniving vibrators, they were.

"We'll never see him again," you reassured him.

"Well," your husband muttered, "you know why I do it. I have to protect my family."

With a silly, fake smile on your face, you agreed as you stroked his arm, looking through the rearview mirror at Will sleeping in the back seat. You could do this for another 13 years, right? Just hang in there.

•••

Spencer gathered his things from the table, putting them in his bag as he prepared to go to the hotel, hoping to get a good night's sleep and work with more focus and renewed vigor the next day. He spent the rest of the day reliving his interaction with you down to the smallest detail, remembering and recalling her tone of voice, her posture, and her submission when her husband appeared. If was right, his name was Steve.

The policeman in question left the police station for an hour and returned soon after, casting long glances at Spencer, none like yours, who followed him to his hotel room, until he laid his head on the pillow and far beyond that, invading his dreams.

•••

5 days in the same city was a lot on the Spencer scale. Enough to make the UNSUB profile, but not enough to capture him. He lived in the shadows, preying on the most vulnerable people in that small, broken society that was your little town: the women. More specifically, the housewives. Spencer spent these days wondering if you had any job.

"What the hell?" He heard Morgan's voice exclaim with surprise, raising her head to look at the source. That's when spotted William, wandering around outside the glass-walled room they were in. The boy walked between the tables as if he belonged there, but stood out from his surroundings. "Who is he?"

"Cop Steve's son." Spencer murmured, attracting the attention of his colleagues.

"Do you know him? How?" JJ asked.

Spencer shrugged. "Kids like magic. He came here a few days ago, must have run away from his mom again. I thought Morgan had seen him before."

"Well, I didn't see. There's something strange about that boy's father-" Turning away as he spoke, Derek was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and a child's voice shouting happily.

"Dr. Reid!"

As if it were second nature, Spencer rose from his seat to kneel in front of the child and greeted him back with a smile.

"Hey, Willy," he held up his open palm, which made the boy laugh and high-fived him, "What are you doing here, kid?"

"Mom came to bring Dad's lunch again, but I wanted to see you."

Spencer sighed with an understanding smile, looking around at his classmates who stared rather shocked at their very natural interaction.

"And does your mom know you're with me?"

The look he shifted to the floor said everything the doctor needed to know.

"You can't just disappear, young man. Do you know where she is?"

Will nodded. "In the big room with Daddy."

Spencer looked at Hotch, who understood immediately and sighed tiredly before nodding and nodding towards the door, permitting him to leave.

"Let's find her then, shall we?"

William walked out hand in hand with the man, leaving Spencer shocked that a policeman's son was so ill-educated, regardless of his age. Children could be sociable. They should be. That didn't exclude all the evil that lurked outside the house - or inside - the boy seemed the pure image of naivety. Worrying. He couldn't tell you why he cared so much.

"So, Willy, why did you split up with Mom? You heard what she said, she gets worried when you disappear like that."

"Because they were starting over."

"Starting what?" Reid asked, frowning and looking down to see the child's face, who didn't answer. "Starting what, William?" he asked again.

•••

"How did you manage to lose sight of him? For God's sake, this is a police station!" Steve exclaimed furiously, although he growled quietly. He didn't believe in announcing his problems to the world.

"I let go of his hand for a second and he disappeared!" You retorted, your eyes watering as you thought about what he could have gotten himself into this time. "It's not my fault," you continued, hugging your body as if trying to convince yourself.

Your husband snorted, scorn appearing on his face as he approached, and suddenly any courage you had was thrown out of the window. You looked around, at the walls that gave you so little privacy. We're in public, you thought, like a mantra. He didn't do anything in public. He didn't do anything in public. He grabbed your arm. Moreover, his nails dug in, forcing and tearing at your skin as his instinct acted and tried to pull your arm back, but he held back. As he always did. Apart from the pain, all you could think about was what a bad idea it was to wear short sleeves that day.

"What good are you anyway, if you can't even look after my son properly?"

Your eyes were injected with rage and you swallowed, watching the face of the man you once thought would make you the happiest woman in the world. The man who promised you the world while hugging you in a college dormitory bathroom and holding a pregnancy test with a small smile on his face. Eyes crinkled with joy as he stroked your still flat belly and whispered such sweet things. A time when you thought you could face anything as long as you had him by your side. You no longer saw any of that in the man in front of you. He ripped any last shred of hope from your cold, dead hands and then made you dig your own emotional grave, as deep as his nails could go into your skin. You barely felt the pain anymore. You didn't even feel anything, until you heard the familiar voice of the light of your life, pulling you out of that dark pit as it always did.

Quickly, Steve retracted his arm, taking a deep breath and swallowing as he turned to where he had heard his son's voice, his nostrils flaring as he saw who was with him.

•••

Spencer never got a verbal answer to his question from William, but he didn't need one. The scene in front of him said it all, and from the way the boy squeezed his hand tighter, he could tell that Will knew there was something wrong between his parents. Fortunately, the boy was too short to have the same field of vision as Reid. Luckily, he hadn't seen the terrified look on his mother's face, let alone his father's aggressive grip.

Will shouting "Mommy" and letting go of your hand to run to you provided him with a new horizon. It brought back memories. That of trying to be a mediator within a broken family, even in childhood.

•••

Steve never spent much time around William anyway, so when he left quickly, you didn't mind, you were relieved. Noticing that Dr. Reid wasn't going to move away, you sighed, hiding the nail mark against your own body as you watched him enter the room you were in.

"Hey, honey, want to play a little?" you asked, taking your cell phone out of your pocket and handing it to your son, who quickly agreed and went to the corner of the 'big room', as he called it, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"I never knew your name."

You snorted, wondering how that was the first thing he chose to say, but in the end, he did say your name.

"You don't have to hide it, I've already seen it." Spencer continued, making sure to speak quietly so that the child wouldn't hear them and to keep the anger out of his voice.

You swallowed, wondering what you had done to deserve two humiliations in a row on the same day, trying to force yourself to remain calm and expressionless, assessing how much of a risk the mysterious doctor could be to you or your child.

"I'm sorry about William again today, it'll never happen again."

Spencer couldn't stop himself from analyzing you, and what he saw brought him the most mixed emotions. You were profiling him too. You are a profiler for survival, someone who needs to know how to act in every situation so as not to get hurt. It made your head spin, your throat dry and your hands twitch. "It's called empathy. Use it to be a better person," Derek once told him.

"You know this is a crime; I can arrest him right now if you want; this room has cameras, and you're... you're hurt."

To his surprise, you laughed in his face. A bitter laugh. The kind he wished you'd never hear again.

"Are you an idiot, Dr. Reid?" you asked, without any humor. "Is that how you sleep best at night? Look around you, see where we are. In a police station full of men. Do you think you're the first to see something like that in me?"

Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke and you felt the uncontrollable urge to channel all your anger at Dr. Spencer Reid, pointing at the wound on his arm, the little blood already dried. This made the agent sigh. He had never really been able to understand how someone could hurt a person they had sworn to love so deeply.

"Well, the FBI wasn't here before."

You just sighed, pressing your lips together to stop a torrent of tears. He would never know that fear like you did. Even if Steve was still arrested, what would you do next? How would you be able to raise your son in a place like this, where your husband was the model citizen of the city and you were the bitch who put him in prison?

"You just don't understand. Please go away, Dr. Reid."

Go away, and don't you dare even try to give me false hope because I killed them all for my own good a long time ago, you thought.

Spencer couldn't accept that it would end like this. There had to be something, there had to be a way. Not for the first time in his life, he thought that people should come with a manual. It was time to do your job, even if you felt terrible about using your weakness against yourself.

"And is it worth it? Raising a child in such an environment?"

"I've managed to keep Will away for five years. So as long as he's safe, yes, it's worth it," you replied, your back to him.

Spencer sighed, squeezing his thigh as he cursed himself for influencing you like that. All for the greater good.

"Except that he already knows. Kids are a lot more observant than people think."

You turned like lightning.

"What are you talking about?"

You couldn't. You couldn't lose the only certainty you had in life. That Will was your sea of positivity, away from everything that was really going on at home, growing up happily, without any resentment. You swore that when he was born. It was the only promise it would kill you to break.

Spencer hated being the cause of the look of terror on his face this time, but like all the other times in his life when it was necessary, he took courage and started telling.

Taglist (if you want in or out, just let me know):

@yokaimoon @fanfic-viewer

A/n: I was wonderfully surprised by how well received the first part was. I hope you enjoy the second as much. Thank you for your support

[xueyidweams]

I’m currently also obsessed with Aventurine and can’t find enough dom reader content with him because he deserves to be taken care of 💙💚

I don’t have a specific idea really but maybe soft dom reader bodyworshipping him until he cries (happy tears of course)?

Aventurine x soft!dom!gn reader

A/N: I wrote this in 10 minutes idk what the fuck came over me, im exhausted but i had to write this. thank u for requesting. also chip (me) writing a structured piece???woagh!

Word count: 1.275

Contents: aven receiving and listener giving, penetration by fingers and tongue, eating him out, cum licking/eating, a little self depricating thoughts on aven’s end. no y/n is used instead it is replaced with “Love”. not proofread!

You love your boyfriend in every way shape and form, even if he thinks he can’t ever be loved; you prove him wrong everyday.

One such case is when your pretty boyfriend is on your lap, knees raised to his chest, his naked body feels like heaven on your clothes. His quiet whimpers and the sound of your fingers thrusting in and out of him fills his expensive room, his fingers grip and curl the fabric of your pants as he throws his head back onto your shoulder with a whine. He’s breathless as he speaks, you don’t dare stop your fingers though, “You’ve made me cum like- like 3 times by now and you’re still fully clothed… how unfair, love.” You smile as you line up your fingers just so you can hit his prostate and you feel him tighten around your fingers, his hands shooting up to your arms and gripping hard as he cums once again with a quiet cry of your name.

He’s breathing hard and fast, you put one hand on his chest as your fingers play with his sensitive nipples and your other hand goes to his dick, covering your fingers with his cum. “Hmm…” Your hand leaves his chest to turn his head towards you, “Look at me Aventurine.” He whimpers quitely and makes eye contact with you as you give him a little smile and suck on your own fingers, you watch his eyes sober up and he flinches. “Love no— that’s… that’s dirty, your mouth is too precious for that.” Ah, that. Yeah your precious boyfriend you would literally die for also doesn’t think he is deserving of any sexual pleasure or receiving it without giving any like this, but damn it you’re gonna show him he deserves that and more.

You shrug your shoulders slightly and take his face on your hand, tugging him a bit closer. Your tongue pokes out covered in his cum and Aventurine feels like he’s gonna cum on the spot right there even though that dread of you being covered in his filth never leaves his brain. “Wanna taste yourself on my tongue?” He groans and pulls you close by wrapping his arms around your neck, “Aeons, yes. Ah, you spoil me so much—“ you cut off his sentence as you kiss him and in no time shove your tongue in his mouth, little resistance is given as he whines into your mouth and grinds on your lap, desperate for any kind of friction. You of course give him what he wants, your mouth doesn’t leave his when your hand goes to his still hard dick and your fingers curl around the base; giving it one stroke and letting your thumb play with the tip as he moans loudly into your mouth and breaks the kiss, breathless.

“This won’t do. Hold on.” You mutter as you hook your arms under his knees and he has his arms wrapped around your neck. He looks at you confused but then you gently, -so gently that it hurts- lay him on the expensive sheets of his equally expensive and soft bed. He hesitates for a moment but then his hand goes to the middle button of your shirt and tugs, “I want to see you, please? Can I?” You chuckle and nod, slowly unbuttoning your shirt as he watches you, he feels his heart swell with love and pride. You’re his… that’s a ‘fact’ that he can’t really get used to. Well, he isn’t used to this at all. Being loved and all that jazz. He thought your one night stand would be it, he even avoided you because he knew the fastened heartbeat, clammy hands and nervous speech meant; he was developing feelings and it was going to bite him in the ass one day. Yet, he couldn’t go against fate and your (cute) stubbornness. You made sure he knew you would give him the world and yet he couldn’t get himself to say that you mean more than the world to him, he would burn the entire universe if you wanted.

He is snapped out of his musing as he feels your lips close around his tip, making him whine softly and his fingers going to your hair and threading themselves in it. You hum in satisfaction as your hands start massaging his inner thighs, gently and slowly. He whines as he restrains himself from snapping his hips up, you’re almost taking all of him and— wait you’re actually going to do it. “Babe wait— oh fuck!” Air is knocked out of him as you take all of his dick into your mouth, his tip touching your throat. “Love. Love, Love, fuck please—!” He’s moaning so loud, so high pitched you’ve never really seen him like this before and this spurs you on even more, you tap his thigh and make him look you in the eye. You grab his ass and make him thrust in your mouth. He gets the memo, if this is what you want then… It's okay. He takes a breath as he starts to slowly snap his hips up, whining your name over and over again. It’s so embarrassing but— he’s so close, it’s so pathetic and yet you look at him so desperately, urging him to go faster. He sucks in a breath and cries out as your tongue pokes his tip just as he was pulling out, he knew you could take it but he was so scared and— you let go of his dick with a pop, not giving him enough time to talk you coat your fingers with lube -when did you get that?- and your index finger prods his hole, easily slipping it in as well as your middle finger because of your early adventures.

His whimpers go up to loud whines as your tongue joins his fingers and your right hand goes to jerk him off. You watch him from beneath your lashes, watch him become a puddle just from your body and touch alone. He’s so gorgeous and cute, you’re gonna make sure he knows he deserves this— you’re gonna make him beg for more of it. It’s working so far, if him whining your name like a mantra while his fingers grip the expensive sheets like it's his lifeline means anything. You pull out your fingers, fully thrust your tongue in and out his hole, fucking him with your tongue as your hand has a brutal pace on his sensitive and throbbing dick. Soon you feel him tighten around your tongue, his abdomen getting tenser and his dick throbbing once more on your hand, “I’m gonna cum— fuck I’m gonna cum, Love, please—“ He cries out loud -thank Aeons the rooms are soundproof- and you pull out your tongue from him, instead letting your fingers work his cock into orgasm as you let your tongue out to catch his cum.

He cums with the quiet whimper of your name and you catch every drop on your tongue and face. You help him ride out his high, he looks at you as the euphoria wears off and his eyes widen in shock and horror at the sight of your face covered with his filth. You smile and clean your face up with your fingers, “Open your mouth.” He does it the second you say ‘open’, moaning as you put your fingers in his mouth. “Suck.” He does and his chest swells with pride at the enamoured look you give him. Maybe he thinks he isn’t deserving but you do and what kind of boyfriend argues with their lovers’ wants?

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

Growing up suits you (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)

Imagine graduating from high school with Spencer Reid and years later working on a case with him.

Word count: 600ish

Look at that, a blurb that actually stayed a blurb.

Warning: smoking (herbal cigarettes) and mentions of teenage drug use

You had driven two hours to the middle of nowhere Georgia because your boss had invited the BAU into your investigation. It wasn't how you wanted to spend the day but you could either complain or catch your serial killer. Not both. You chose the second one, so you drove down from Atlanta to meet the BAU at the site of the newest crime scene in a spree of murders over the past year.

When you stepped out of the SUV you took in the scene.

There were small crowds of people looking in, not so many that it was distracting but enough that the local PD had to have officers keeping the crowd back. You showed your credentials to get in and walked up to who you recognized as SSA Aaron Hotchner, the BAU's unit chief.

"Agent Hotchner" You called out, getting the man's attention.

"Agent L/N" Hotch greeted, shaking you hand and leading you to the where the rest of his team were huddled.

"Guys, this is special agent Y/N L/N from the Atlanta field office" Hotch introduced.

"Agent L/N, these are SSA's Rossi, Morgan, Jerau, Prentiss and Dr. Spe—" Hotch wasn't even able to finish before you cut him off.

"Spencer Reid. Wow, it has been a long time" You said and you saw him searching his brain for where you knew him from before recognition flashed through his eyes.

"Last time I saw you you were much shorter and had just gotten your first breakout" You said and his cheeks flushed.

"I was 12" He said quietly and you chuckled.

"I'm sorry, you two know each other?" Rossi asked and you smirked.

"We graduated high school together" You answered and Morgan looked very curious to ask what you were sure would be very embarrassing questioned before Hotch cleared his throat.

"Agent L/N led the preliminary investigation with the Atlanta field office and will be working with us on this case" He said and you all went back to work.

---

You stood on the roof of the local precinct, coat wrapped around you and a cigarette between your index and middle fingers.

"You still smoke" Spencer said as he walked across the flat roof to stand beside you.

"It's herbal, I quit tobacco a couple years ago" You told him and took a puff.

"Herbal cigarettes are actually just as harmful as tobacco products. Even without the tobacco the herbs in the cigarette burn and create tar, carbon monoxide and about 73 other toxins, 40 of which can cause cancer" Reid said and you laughed.

"Right, I'll put this out then" You said, putting out the cigarette on the edge of the roof.

"You didn't have to do that" He said but you shrugged.

"wouldn't wanna expose you to the dangers of secondhand smoking" You joked.

The two of you stood in a somewhat silence for a while. You'd just given the local police your profile and as soon as you finished you'd gone out.

"How's your mom?" You asked.

"She's good. Still back in Las Vegas. How's your brother?" He asked in return.

"He's good. He's in a band touring with some singer, I can't remember who" You said and then silence again.

"So, the team" You said and he flushed.

"I'm sorry about the questions" He said.

"Don't worry about it, they just wanna know more about you. It seems like you all don't tell each other much about your pasts— and you don't have to— they're just curious about you" You said and he nodded.

"High school's not exactly a time I like remembering" Spencer admitted and you nodded. You remembered what he went through. The bullying, the humiliation, you couldn't imagine it. Not that your high school career was particularly pleasant but his was so much worse.

"I understand" You said and smiled, deciding to find a lighter subject.

"But you grew up well, that height suits you" You said and you saw the blush rise to his cheeks.

"Thanks, you uh— you you look really good too" He said.

"We should get in, I can't tell if it's my compliments that are making you that red or the chill" You joked and Spencer was slightly too embarrassed to say anything as he followed you back into the precinct.

[eleganzadellarosa]

BOUNCE BACK

pairing: dominic fike x oc

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.2K

AN: I wrote this on a whim for my best friend a few months ago to kick start my want to write. Dom is her bae fr so I obviously had to include him lol. Enjoy and thanks for reading <3

The beach was practically empty, a person scattered about here and there but nothing compared to how packed it usually is. That’s all thanks to how late it was becoming, the setting sun being a telltale sign. You didn’t mind the scarcity though, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts. Maybe the beach wasn’t the best or secluded place to be but you needed some fresh air and wanted to be somewhere where you normally felt happy. The sloshing sound of the waves temporarily took your mind off of today’s earlier events.

You found texts in your boyfriend of 5 years’ phone talking to some girl who carried no importance to you which was a good thing in its own way. The texts ranged from normal conversation to “I can’t wait to be inside you tonight”. You’d been together since the start of high school and you truly believed the relationship would last a lifetime. The feelings were apparently not mutual and after scrolling through the thousands of texts, this charade had been going on for years now. The girl in question was his ex who he dated right before getting with you and their relationship was comparable to a light switch, very off and on. Coming to the realization that he used you as a way to get his mind off of her until they were ready to kiss and makeup.

Nothing could have prepared you for today, but you were never one to turn down your gut feelings and they were right 99% of the time. You felt so stupid for trusting him and loving him the way you did but you constantly reminded yourself that none of this way your fault. The orange hue of the setting sun beamed on you, warming your skin and making the tears on your cheeks glisten. You were a mess. This was the third or fourth time you’ve cried within the past hour and your body seemed to have no intentions of stopping anytime soon. When you felt the vibration from the phone in your hand, you so badly wanted to chuck it into the water without checking it first, hoping the waves would take care of the rest.

Wiping your tears on the back of your hands, your sobbing finally came to a halt and you prayed for a bigger gap in between your next crying session. You lean back on your hands and scrunch the sand under your palms, closing your eyes to soak up the sun before it fully set within the next 30 minutes. The water seemed to move rapidly as the waves began to reach the shore and splash against your toes more frequently.

“Hey um, you might want to move a little farther back, the water is getting kinda high.” An extra shadow cast next to you along with the unfamiliar voice that came from behind you. Unfortunately for you, your puffy face and red eyes showed signs that you had been crying your heart out for the past hour no matter how many times your hands tried to rid your face of the evidence. Perhaps you had been staring at the sun for too long but it took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust and focus on the person now standing beside you.

“I- oh shit sorry, are you okay?” the handsome man asks, crouching down to be at eye level. Speaking of eyes, anyone with a pair could tell that this man was absolutely gorgeous. He had the perfect “boy next door” look to him. The look that made you want to be around him all the time, the look that would have every girl in school chasing after him but not because he was a fuckboy.

Everything about him was downright perfect, well at least to your standards. His hair, his face, his body, literally everything and thinking back to the two seconds you heard him speak, that was perfect too. Maybe all the crying made you let your guard down, but his presence felt so welcoming and you fought the weird urge to go up and hug him. You didn’t realize you hadn’t answered his question until he speaks again. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but I’d prefer if you did, maybe I can make you feel better.” He then sits down next to you and rests his arms on his knees, which created a space for his head to lay as he looked at you. “Umm…earlier today I found out my boyfriend of 5 years has been cheating on me with his ex. I don’t know if I can even call him my boyfriend because apparently I was just a rebound whenever he needed it and I never caught on.” The end of your sentence gets slightly caught in your throat and you can feel your eyes burning, forcing tears to swell yet again.

“Man…I’m so sorry, that’s so fucked up. Would you feel better if you talked about it? I have time on my hands so I really don’t mind. Shit, you could tell me over and over if that would help.” It wouldn’t hurt to rant right now and him being one of the finest people you’ve ever met was just an added bonus.

The conversations quickly turned from your dumbass ex to getting to know each other. Everything seemed to flow naturally with him, he was such a joy to talk to and you wanted nothing more than for this night to never end. Sadly the sun had already set and it was quite dark out, the moon being the only source of light for you both. The two of you sat in silence for a while longer before you finally decided to check your phone. 9:15 it read. The singular notification being from “person who shall not be named” and you could only imagine what it said, but you wouldn't bother checking now, not if you wanted your mood to be soiled. He was the last thing on your mind and with the way this new guy had two hours feeling like 30 minutes, it was more than you could ask for.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I kept you here for this long. Thank you for listening to me though, I really needed it, I feel so much better.” He smiled when you finished speaking and shook his head as if to say “don’t worry about it”. “You know, if you’re comfortable with it, I can give you my number and you can text me whenever you need someone to listen. I know the feeling, so I really don’t mind and you’re a really great person to talk to”. Just hearing the offer makes your heart beat with excitement. Smiling maybe a little too hard, you hand him your phone so he can save himself as a contact.

“Wait, I never asked you your name. Dang, I’m sorry I was so focused on myself…” thinking about the selfish act had you almost in tears for the umpteenth time tonight until he rubs a comforting hand over your arm. “You really don’t have to worry about that love, I was here to listen. My name is Dominic but really just call me Dom.” The nickname gave you butterflies, more than his existence already did, if that was even possible. Whenever he smiled your eyes landed on the apple tattoo under his right eye. The longer you looked at him, the more things you noticed but nothing came across as a turn off. He stands up after handing back your phone and dusts the sand off his shorts. He reaches out for you to grab his hand to stand from where you sat.

“And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” Once standing, you mimicked his action of dusting off the sand from your clothing before you answer. “Jenna but really just call me Jenna”. Your response made him chuckle since you copied exactly what he had said to you moments earlier. You notice he still hadn’t let go of your hand and when you look up from where they intertwine, he speaks before you can. “Well Ms. Jenna, allow me to escort you back to your vehicle”. The night was ending all too quickly and your heart already aches with longing. “I kinda don’t wanna go back home yet Mr. Dom.” A small smirk paints his face, so small that you would have missed it if you didn’t look at him in time. “Um well, you can come chill with me if you want. I don’t really have anything to do at my house, but I do have food.” “Food is just fine and I don’t care if you don’t have anything to do, chilling is more than enough. Thank you for the invite.”

More hours are spent with you two learning more about one another and eating whatever random food or snacks he had in his house. You decided after chatting for a while that his laugh was in the top 10 things you liked most about him, it sounded so cheerful and he looked so cute whenever he did it. This was the most fun you’ve had in a long time, even more than you can ever recall having with your ex. “Hey do you want to hear something?” He says almost popping up from his seat on the couch. “What do you mean?” You ask clearly confused by his question. “I uh…like making music and I have something I’ve been working on. Do you wanna hear it?” You can tell he gets a bit shy with the way his ears turn a light shade of pink and he scratches the back of his head. Gosh could this man be anymore interesting? He lead you to a room near the back of his house and the door opened to a large space filled with instruments of all kinds. It looked like every studio you’ve seen in movies or TV.

“You can sit wherever you’d like, lemme just grab my guitar”. You find a place on the small couch nestled in the corner, sitting sideways to get a better look at what he was doing. He sits across from you on the couch holding the large brown guitar. He suddenly looked so serious, the guitar pick loosely hanging from between his lips, brows furrowing as he makes sure the guitar is tuned perfectly. Such a simple action, but you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked while doing it. “This song is called 3 nights, lemme know what you think okay?” His voice mixed with the melody of the song possessed your body, making it move along to the beat. By the time he finished, the lyrics to the chorus were already stuck in your head on loop.

“No freaking way, that was amazing! You have to let other people hear this!” Your comment made him smile from ear to ear and a blush accented his cheeks. “Yeah? It’s still just a rough draft, but if you like it that much then I’m doing something right.” He sets his guitar down next to the couch and leans his head back against the arm. "You know, this is the first time in a long time where I didn't feel like I needed to smoke to get me through the day and I really appreciate that." He lifts his head and finds you staring at him with a sympathetic look on your face. "Obviously I wouldn't since we just met, but I didn't know you felt that way sometimes. I'm glad I could help you as much as you helped me today." He fully sits up on the couch and leaned over to you, his lips lightly brushing your forehead. The action made your body stiffen and he pulled away when he felt it. "Shit..sorry, I just felt like doing that. Sorry, I know that was so weird." You reached over to cup his cheek in your left hand and moved over to kiss him on the soft skin.

"It wasn't weird and I've been wanting to hug you all day. I could really use one of those right now." He wasted no time in pulling you into a tight but gentle hug and tears began to fall from your eyes. He lightly caresses your back and shushes you, trying to bring you some sort of ease to your pained heart. He plants another soft kiss on your forehead and you look up at him through teary eyes. "If I asked to stay longer, would you let me?" "Hell yeah, I'd let you stay the night if you were okay with that. You can sleep in my room and I can sleep on the couch in the living room." You nod your head and he rubs his thumb on your shoulder.

The night was over but the feeling of sadness never came to you as you expected. In contrast to yesterday, this day would start off a lot better and thankfully you had someone around that actually had the ability to take your mind off everything. Little did you know, this would count as the day you met the person who would later become someone you weren't ashamed to call your boyfriend.

[charlotteharlatan]

A list (non-exhaustive) of why the 1941 flashback scenes are haunting both me and The Narrative, Part 1:

1. Both S1 and S2 have scenes that take place that night - THAT CERTAIN NIGHT - in 1941. It is specifically revisited in S2, which leads the audience to believe that night was of particular importance, both to Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship and to the overall plot of the show.

2. In the same vein of things that are referenced more than once, the song “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” was first released in 1940, and it’s entirely plausible that they both heard it for the first time in 1941 while in each other’s company.

All evidence points to the song being personally significant to Aziraphale and Crowley. We know it as Their Song, and they seem to think of it that way as well - otherwise Crowley’s “no nightingales” comment in the last 15 minutes of S2ep6 would not have struck Aziraphale so hard; we can see by his expression that the words affect him. With that statement, Crowley seems to be referencing not only the song itself, but possibly also a specific memory they share that involves that song.

At first, one might assume he means the occasion at the Ritz at the end of S1, because that song is indeed playing in that scene. However, I think that scene itself is also partially a reference back to 1941, which I’ll get to in a later item.

3. When examined closely, many scenes and plot elements from the rest of the show may be nodding to 1941. When Crowley and Aziraphale discuss ways that humans fall in love in the pub scene in S2ep2, Crowley references being caught under an awning in the rain, a very transparent callback to Eden when they huddled under Aziraphale’s wing.

So, Crowley’s contribution harkens back to Eden, but what does Aziraphale mention? What is called to his mind when he thinks of falling in love? Cotillion balls. Music and dancing. Things he’s read about in Jane Austen novels, the moments therein where the protagonists realize they’re in love. On its surface, Aziraphale’s idea of falling in love seems more like an abstraction than something the angel has experienced himself. Except: perhaps he has. Perhaps, just like with almost everything Aziraphale says and does, we should be looking at it much deeper than surface level.

Maybe he’s projecting just like Crowley is, just in a less straightforward, more opaque sort of way, which you have to admit would be very in-character of him. Maybe he’s thinking of a moment we have not directly seen yet, a moment that has only been gestured to. In other words, “a joke the paleontologists haven’t seen yet,” the paleontologists in this case being, well, us. We know Aziraphale is actually capable of sleight of hand in the right circumstances, so maybe him talking about a ball is only a feint, a flamboyantly waving hand as a distraction to keep our attention away from what the other hand is doing. Maybe he is also recalling a specific memory of himself and Crowley, one that involved music and dancing, and the realization that the feeling between them was love.

So with all that in mind, what moment from the show do we have great reason to believe was Aziraphale’s realization of his own feelings, and to an extent, Crowley’s as well? Yup, you’ve got it: 1941 again. The aftermath of Crowley rescuing him at the church and saving his books. The face that launched a ship. (Sorry.)

4. Backtracking slightly to the topic of music and dancing and The Ball, let’s talk about this: just like Crowley “did a rainstorm” to try to get Nina and Crowley to fall for each other the same way he fell for Aziraphale, The Ball may have been Aziraphale’s effort to recreate the occasion on which he realized he’d fallen for Crowley. Perhaps it was intended to be a “do-over” of past events where they almost connected, with the aim of finally reaching each other this time. We’re all aware by now that while Aziraphale did fully intend to get Maggie and Nina together, he also threw a ball specifically to dance with Crowley.

It does initially seem odd that he thinks Crowley will respond well to such a big, ostentatious party, but perhaps Aziraphale has tried the subtle route before to little avail. Like when, you may well ask?

5. Well, for one: their rendezvous in 2008, right after the Antichrist arrives on Earth, in S1ep1. Crowley has been unsuccessful in convincing Aziraphale to help him avert the apocalypse, but the angel has fewer qualms about a lunch date at the Ritz.

After the Ritz, they go back to the bookshop, with Aziraphale telling Crowley he still has some Chateauneuf du Pape left “for special occasions,” which is an interesting comment - the reason why this is a special occasion to Aziraphale is never named, as Crowley glosses over it in favor of pointing out that nobody will be having any wine anymore if Heaven wins the upcoming war. Aziraphale reiterates his refusal to engage with that topic, and ushers Crowley into the shop.

All this leaves the vague impression that Aziraphale has his own agenda for the evening (because all appearances of passivity aside, the angel almost always has his own agenda). And Crowley, not noticing this or perhaps choosing to not notice it, is throwing a spanner in the works of said agenda by continuing to bring up the apocalypse. And so, stuck at this stalemate, they drink the ‘special occasion’ wine in the shop, and listen to music, and get very drunk. It’s a small detail, but we know the music is coming from the gramophone because it’s the same record Aziraphale was listening to when Crowley called him the night prior.

So, wine and music. Why are these elements significant? It isn’t named, but in S2ep4 when Aziraphale and Crowley have returned to the bookshop after the magic show, the bottle of wine they share in the back room is the same kind, Chateauneuf du Pape.

And while there is noticeably no music playing when the two of them are sitting in the quiet, private, candlelit back room of the shop, the gramophone can be seen over Aziraphale’s shoulder in many parts of the scene, looming over their conversation like a musical Chekhov’s gun.

And here’s the real kicker: the gramophone, as it happens, is normally positioned facing the opposite direction. In bookshop scenes from the rest of S2, even earlier on in that very same episode, we see it facing the usual way, in the direction of Aziraphale’s desk.

This means that it was intentionally turned so that the “mouth” of the gramophone would be visible in this scene, and turned towards Aziraphale and Crowley. You may well ask: “the background of this scene is dark and out of focus, how can you tell for sure which way the gramophone is facing?” If you look closely, you can see the gramophone’s crank is on the right side, visible in some shots past the lip of the wine bottle. If the gramophone were facing in its usual direction, the crank would be on the left and invisible in these shots.

And, to add another layer to it, we know how important cranks are as a symbolic object in this series, how much power these objects can hold in the hands of the correct wielder. Crowley turns a crank to prime the engine of the universe - in other words, to begin the music of the spheres; and much later, he uses the Bentley’s crank when he restarts time on the Tadfield airbase. What if the gramophone’s crank was used in a similar way in 1941, to temporally create a little universe of their own, either metaphorically or literally?

Great care was taken in planning every aspect, every little detail of this show; almost nothing is a coincidence; staging scenes especially is done with the utmost degree of care. All of this to say, we as the audience seem to be meant to relate the scenes from 1941, 2008, and 2023 narratively, even though they take place decades apart. Throughout the years, Aziraphale may be trying - subtly at first, but then less so - to recreate the events of 1941.

Okay, that’s items 1 through 5. I definitely have more but I hit the limit for gifs and images for posting via the mobile app, so I’m going to have to post the rest in at least two more parts. Because I still have ghosts in my head and I must write about it. Hauntings are easier to handle if there’s someone in the house with you who sees the ghosts too.

Link to part 2

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 2

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, drinking and mention of drugs, eventual smut but no actual smut so far, a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,803

You woke up next morning feeling tired and still a little bit overwhelmed. Pedro really was a gentleman and minded his own business, so did you. You’re not sure at what time he had woken up, but you could hear the shower running. You quickly changed into working clothes and went to have breakfast, trying to avoid any weird interactions with him. Again.

The hotel was very busy and the whole crew was meeting in the conference room. You got together with the directing team and briefly discussed your tasks for the day. You couldn’t help but watch Pedro closely as he joined the room, saying a happy good morning to everyone. He shaked hands with a few people and grabbed a cup of coffee. The producer asked everybody to be silent.

“Morning, everyone”, she started. “As I’m sure you’re all aware of already, we had a problem with the accommodation situation. Last night I tried to make some calls, but I do have to formally apologize to everybody, because I won’t be able to solve this.”

Everybody in the room just stared at her.

“There’s a conference happening in the city and the hotel fucked us over with overbooking and they got here first”, she explained, clearly a little mad. “If you have your schedule, you can check we’re only staying here for a couple more nights, so I would appreciate it if we could just make a team effort for now.”

She got a piece of paper and a pen. “If anybody wants to be rearranged with a different roommate, let me know.”

Pedro crossed eyes with you and offered a smile. You looked away, feeling shy. There was something about him that just made you feel like a scared little girl that needed to protect herself. You didn’t really see him much during the rest of the day. The schedule showed he was supposed to spend the whole day rehearsing and you were busy with other directing matters. You were very worried about doing a good job and it was starting to get to you. The director wasn’t a bad person, but you could see he didn’t have any time to lose. So you had to hold back your tears when he was a bit harsh after you got confused with the order of the scenes shooting. Once they let you know you were off duty, you walked straight to your room, feeling like shit.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you let out a deep breath. “Fuck me, man.”

“Won’t you pay me dinner first?” you heard a husky voice. It was Pedro, laying on the bed and browsing through his phone.

“Ha-ha”, you fake laughed. You stared at each other for a moment, before both of you let out a big, honest laugh. “As if, old man.”

He sat down, looking at you.

“What a first day, uh?”

“Don’t get me started” you replied as you threw your body on the chair. “Did you ask for a new room?”

“Trying’ to get rid of me, sweetheart?” He was being playful. You shaked your shoulders. “No, I didn’t. I’ll just go with it, if it’s okay with you.”

“Sure, you’re the star. Whatever goes by you, goes by me”, you gave him a soft smile. 

He seemed like such a down to Earth and nice guy, at the same time, he also knew all damn well how charming he was.

“Not trying to be a creep old man—”

“Oh God, what a way to start a sentence”, you both laughed.

“I’m going out to grab some drinks with some friends,” he said. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join us. Professionally speaking”.

You stopped to think. That is literally the main reason you accepted this job, to improve your networking in the industry. It’s all about that and the sooner you get your name going out there, the better gigs you would land in the future.

“You do know I’m literally nobody, right?” You stated, making him frown.

“I do know there are a lot of famous douche people out there, thinking they are crème de la crème”, he said. “Well, that’s not me. I have no fucking clue who you are, sweetheart, and I trully don’t give a shit about it. You seem like a cool, good girl. And if we are really doing this, you’ll have to drop it”.

“I’m sorry— I just had a tough start today”, you said, full of sincerity. “I always feel like I’m walking on a wire in this industry, it makes me anxious.”

“I totally get it”, he stared deep into your eyes. “I won’t lie, it’s tough. But I’m being 100% honest here, there’s people that are actually just really nice folks to have around and you seem like one of those”.

They sure knew how to have a good time in Berlin. You sneaked out of the hotel with Pedro and got a cab to what seemed like a pub on the ground floor and a nightclub underground. You joined a couple of friends of him, got some drinks and just talked for a couple of hours. His friends were super sweet with you and it was just great to hang out with people who already went through starting a career and all of that. They were all older than you and sometimes you would feel a bit out of place, but Pedro was making sure to keep you in the conversation at all times.

“I’m having a really great time”, you told Pedro once his friend went dancing. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came”, he replied close to your ear, as he was resting one of his arms on your shoulders. “You good?”

“Pretty good, sir”, you gave him a smile. You were feeling a little tipsy from the alcohol, and you could see he was too. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure, I’m going to get us some more drinks and I’ll meet you there”, he squeezed your arm briefly before moving away.

You went downstairs by yourself and the loud electronic music was everything you were able to hear. You tried to look for Pedro’s friends, but they weren’t anywhere to be found. As you were waiting for Pedro, a blond guy approached you, trying to get you to dance with him. He was about your own age, not bad looking at all, but you weren’t in the mood. At least not with him, you thought to yourself. He pulled his body closer to yours, holding your waist.

“Thanks. I’m waiting for my friend”, you let him know, trying to get away from his grip.

“C’mon baby”, he was way too close for your taste.

“I don’t want you to touch me” you pushed him away.

Before anyone could say or do anything else, Pedro appeared out of nowhere. He handed you your drink and took a sip of his own glass.

“Would you mind if I tell you to fuck off boy?” You have never seen that look of anger in Pedro’s eyes before.

“I didn’t know your daddy was here princess”, the blond guy looked at both of you. “It’s just a matter of taste, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to probably call him all names, but Pedro held your hand and pulled you to the middle of the dance floor. He held your body close to his.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone”, he whispers close to your ear. “What an asshole.”

“I really appreciate you standing up for me”, you whispered back, your lips touching his ear, causing him to get chills. You suddenly felt thirsty and drank your entire drink in one huge sip. “I couldn’t find your friends.”

“They left, I got their text when I was at the bar”, he looks deeply into your eyes. “Do you wanna head out too?”

“Sure.”

He held your hand as he guided you out of there. The air was a bit chilly, but the street was busy and full of people. He let go of you to light a cigar.

“Do you smoke?” He asked you.

“Smoke what?”

“Got it. Oh, you bad girl”, he laughs playfully. “You should’ve said something, I have some good stuff back in the hotel.”

You didn’t have time to reply as a group of girls recognized and approached him. You stood there for what felt like forever, while he was being the sweetest human being with his fans. Every couple of minutes, he would look at you, making sure you’re still waiting for him. You heard them inviting him to an after party, to what he politely said no.

“Would you mind getting us an Uber, sweetheart?” Pedro had to speak a little louder for you to hear him and you felt like everyone around him just stared at you. You just nodded. “Oh, guys, this is my colleague, Y/N. We’re working on a new project together.”

Colleague. You didn’t know why, but it felt weird for you to hear him referring to you like this. Is this strictly professional? For a second, back inside the club, you thought— well, never mind. You got an Uber and he said his goodbyes to his group of fans. You both sat in complete silence on the backseat of the car.

“What was fun, right?” He gave you a warm smile, placing his arm on your shoulder. “I can’t lie, I kinda love the recognition of the fans.”

You moved your head, affirmatively.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He sounded worried.

“Yes, just tired”, you said half-true.

Why the fuck were you upset he called you his college? That’s literally what you are. Sure you had flirted with him sometimes, but he did say this was a professional invite. You didn’t want to be that person who can’t just be treated with kindness without expecting anything else. Pedro was charming, good-looking and apparently an amazing friend and human being. Who also happens to be almost double your age and hot as hell. You could only blame the alcohol in your body for making you think such things.

You got back to the hotel room, the dizziness at its full peak for both of you.

“I don’t think I’m capable of taking a shower in these conditions”, you said as you jumped in bed. Pedro laughed behind you, doing the same.

“You could use one, though”, he teased you. You gave his arm a light slap. “I’m keeping you real, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you, Pedro.”

“I’m too drunk to fuck anything to be honest”, you both laughed and the room went quiet for a couple of minutes.

“Guess it’s better this way”, you whispered, aware that he could hear it as well.

CHAPTER 3 AVALIABLE NOW

[spennsrs]

Hi! I noticed that your requests are open and that you are a Spencer simp (same!!) so I was wondering if I could request something with him? Anything really, I just think that the world needs more Spencer Agnew fics :))

TYPE OF WRITING: one sided pining drabble CONTENT CREATOR(S): spencer agnew of smosh SONG REC: my type by saint motel MARNIE'S NOTE: THE WORLD NEEDS MORE SPENCER !! i hope this satiates not only your need for more spence, but also my need lawl ... also spence is 100% besties to lovers type guy... also mayhaps part 2 in the future???

from: spenner 🐌 ' [y/n] ' ' [y/n] answer plz ' ' are u dead ' ' is this because i won at mario kart ' ' heeeeeeeeey ' ' im off work and im booooooored '

[y/n] lifts the pillow from their face, the constant buzzing of their phone making them frown. they pick the phone up, scrolling through the notifications. youtube... threads... x (you stick your tongue out... elon you bitch, twitter was fine)... a goofy smile tugs at their lips at the onslaught of texts from their best friend, spencer agnew, and as more came in.

from: spenner 🐌 ' my best friend, [y/n] [l/n] is dead!!1 ' ' haha get it ' ' family guy reference ' ' see [y/n] this is how much i need u in my life ' ' im making fucking family guy references '

they simply watch the three dots, signaling spencer was typing as more and more texts were sent by the curly haired man, shaking their head. finally, they decide it was enough torture for their poor friend, typing out a few texts. they giggle as the three dots disappear for a moment, only to reappear.

to: spenner 🐌 ' chill out you funion fuck ' ' im here ' ' unlike some people, some of us have lives while our best friend is at work '

this was a lie. they had (very shamelessly) not answered spencer in favor of catching up on their favorite tv show.

from: spenner 🐌 ' about damn time ' ' i was dying without you ' ' soooooo whats the plan can i come over or ' ' also funion fuck?????? '

to: spenner 🐌 ' so you can eat my food? ' ' ig you can :/ '

there was no response, and [y/n] had reason to believe spencer had either pulled a fast one and was now ignoring them, or was on his way. they opted to believe the latter.

they hurriedly get up to clean up what little mess there was, knowing spence really didn't care.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

spencer arrived at [y/n]'s apartment, sticking the key into the door and unlocking it. he got an odd thought as he stepped into the apartment, his mind wandering into what if territory. it was dangerous, sure... but it was hard when he had developed this huge, heart wrenching, heavy crush on his best friend.

he shakes his head when a voice calls out. "spencer? that you?" he chuckles at [y/n]'s voice, they knew the answer. but he decided to tease them.

"spencer who? it's a robber, announcing my break in. here i come!" he can't help but cackle as his best friend's head comes into view, frowning deeply. "yeah, yeah, it's me. literally the only other person that has a key to your apartment, dumbass."

"not true! angela and amanda have a key!"

a pang stung in his heart, but he shrugged it off. they were [y/n]'s friends, spence, chill. he was not about to be jealous over coworkers.

he makes his way to where [y/n] was, in their room with a sigh. he flops onto their bed dramatically, much to [y/n]'s amusement. they pat his leg before sitting back at their laptop, scrolling through their email. a comfortable quiet falls over the two, the only real noise coming from the soft clicking of keys from the laptop.

spencer turns his head to gaze at his friend- or, the back of them... not that he cared. this had become a common thing, him coming over to just.. decompress from work. he loved his position at smosh, but [y/n] was really his rock. they had been a constant in his life, keeping him grounded. he owed a lot to them... but he guessed it wouldn't be long before the whole crush thing began. how could he not? they were such a genuine and loving person, they accepted spencer for all his weirdness and even parroted it back to him. with [y/n], he could be himself, his true authentic self. not a facade he had to put on in front of a camera, not the one he had with other friends, he was himself with [y/n].

he slowly smiles as they turn their head to check on spencer, a soft pink painting itself on their cheeks.

"stop staring, weirdo. not a good look." "can i not stare at my amazingly gorgeous best friend?"

next thing he knew, spencer was laughing as a pen was chucked in his direction, sitting up.

one day, he would spill it all to [y/n]. but for now... this dynamic was good enough for him.

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 3 - Cuckolding

More CoD smut ho! This time with some lovable (<<debatable) Mexican operators :3 (I'm so very sorry for any incorrect grammar/words in advance!) Enjoy!~

Warning! This work does contain a couple notes of degradation! Please be warned before reading! Thank you!

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It wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship between Alejandro and Valeria from the very beginning. The ups, the downs, but ultimately, the rivalry. Neither of them were particularly subtle, and that extended to how they interacted with those around them, namely you.

So how you ended up in this particular situation wasn’t…entirely outside the realm of thought. It certainly wasn’t how you expected your night to go though. Because despite all evidence to the contrary, your night was actually going pleasantly normal.

Yet here you were, your lovely boyfriend, nearly the colonel of the Mexican special forces arms crossed, and borderline pouting in front of you. You were sat in his rival’s lap, a thick strap deep inside you. Tears were brimming in your eyes as you tried so hard not to moan out in pleasure.

“Looks like you perro has preferences Alejandro,” Valeria sneered, quickening the pace she put on pleasuring your sex. You bit into your lip and leaned your head back so it rested against the woman’s shoulder. “Poor thing, trying so hard not to show your cariño how much you love this.”

You could hear the low possessive growl that you’d come to associate with Alejandro whenever someone was really getting on his nerves. Someone was pressing both his buttons and your own and, unfortunately for both of you, it was consensual. The three of you had talked on and off about having a threeway in the past. Sometimes that even elevated to a foursome whenever Rudy joined in on conversation, although he was always quick to back out. He blamed it on a low sex drive, but you and Al knew it was primarily how nervous Valeria made him.

The pleasure was building quicker and quicker now, your chest heaving as you tried so hard not to fall apart by her hands. That’s how this had all started; a playful bout of banter that Valeria could make you feel better than Alejandro could. Naturally, your hot-tempered partner disagreed, vehemently. 

“Your legs are shaking puta,” the woman coos, her voice bittersweet in your ear. You can’t help but whimper as you feel the flood gates about to burst. You barely register the sound of a hitch in Alejandro’s breathing. That was a tell that very few knew; this was exciting him.

A million and one thoughts flew through your head in that instant, but only two managed to stick. One, was the fact that the near Colonel was going to absolutely take you once this was all said and done and you had received proper aftercare. Two, were the words that fell from your lips.

“C-c-coming…!” You barely gave enough warning before you made an absolute mess across Valeria’s fingers. You could feel her well kept nails dig into your hair and pull you head back, earning a much louder moan of pleasure. Somewhere in your foggy mind you could hear Alejandro groan quietly, but that was blocked out as you saw spots and started to come down from your high.

“Shh, hush now,” Valeria hummed, slowly removing her sticky fingers from your sex. You whimpered quietly from the overstimulation it caused, but did your best to control your breathing. “You did well. Alejandro certainly trains his pets correctly, if nothing else.”

You could hear your lover scoff softly as the woman helped him ease you off the toy. Al took you in his arms and held you tightly as Valeria covered you with the blanket from your cot.You did your best to cling to the man you loved. “You’re alright mi vida,” the man hushed you, petting your head sweetly. “You did very well for us both, you know that yeah?” 

Despite your fuzzy mind, you nodded into the crook of his neck. “Agua, por favor…” you rasped, not quite ready to speak fully yet. 

“Right here,” came Valeria’s voice. You lifted your head from Alejandro’s shoulder to see her offering you your water bottle. “Put your lips on it.” You did as she asked, in no real position to argue. She applied gentle pressure to the bottle, allowing the cool liquid to soothe your throat. 

“Gracias…” you mumbled, resting your head back against Alejandro’s shoulder. You heard him huff a soft laugh at your actions.

“You should get them to bed Aljeandro,” the woman advised, noting your slowly closing eyes. “But let me know when you want me to cuck you again.”

You nodded off to the sound of familiar Spanish banter.