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#but idk if it's too open for the questioner
nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
811 notes · View notes
mommyghostface28 · 16 hours
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Can I ask for advice?
How do I eat a girl out? I'm having my first girlfriend ever (long distance relationship), and she's visiting me in a few months. I don't want to disappoint her, so do you maybe have a.. idk.. instruction for me because you're far more experienced in it?
Yessss! I love teaching this subject 🤭
First, every woman like receiving head differently, so regardless, never be afraid to ask them what they enjoy. The entire point is making sure you understand how to please them and learning their body. Sometimes that requires questions/conversations!
The art of giving good head is building the anticipation. You want to make her mind horny first, stimulate her thoughts. Tell her how you can’t wait to taste her while your hands are grabbing and exploring other places. You want her dripping before you even dip your head between her legs.
Get her squirming, press kisses all the way from her neck down to her stomach, part her legs open wide when you reach her bellybutton. Kiss the top of her pubic mound, gently suck. You’re going to work the outer parts of her pussy first. Pay attention to the way she moves, the noises she makes. All indications that she’s enjoying it and getting excited. Kiss her inner thighs, suck all over them.
Run your tongue up her pussy lips, don’t touch her clit yet. Make her want it. Take your thumbs and spread her open, dip your tongue into her hole. Pull away to suck her outer (or inner) lips/folds. Now take your tongue, press it flat against her clit. Run your tongue up slow, and back down in one motion. Keep this tempo consistently, don’t go too hard yet. Fan out your tongue, make it as wide as you can and drag it down to her hole and back up. Give her clit solid licks while gently sucking it in between. Again, pay attention to the way she moves. Are hips bucking slightly? Is she moaning at certain points. Change up the speed and pressure, softer lick harder pressure, harder licked lighter pressure. Go faster when you feel her rock against your mouth. For some added sensation, place your hand on top of her pubic bone/lower stomach. It adds a nice buildup of tension when you eat her out.
And if she likes it and she lets you, slip in a finger or two while you eat her out.
I know this can be a bit overwhelming, try not to be too in your head about it and just enjoy the process! If she feels like guiding you, let her. I hope you two have fun ☺️
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starseungs · 3 days
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a dream and a dance. hjs.
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han jisung x gn!reader — dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid. but maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.
genre/s — fluff, pinch of angst, post-grad au(?) • 2.0k words
warning/s — alcohol, setting is in a nightclub, life is hard (idk how to explain this)
note — inspired by han's new skz-record: 1,2,3,4,5 ! also i know nothing about nightclubs but this was the theme that came to mind so im just basing off vibes 😭
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Dream while you’re still young—while you still can.
Growing up, that line had always been an integral part of your life. You still remember the first time you heard it; the soft hushes of your beloved grandmother as she handed you a bowl of freshly cut fruit on a particularly hot day. The six-year-old you once were was staring at the person behind the television, starry-eyed, as you studied the figure’s actions with intent. You could faintly recall a question being asked in that hushed living room, something along the lines of whether or not you found what they were doing interesting. It was a hazy memory for detailed descriptions, but you could imagine your younger self positively replying with an excited squeal, one fit for a child of that age, which would’ve been followed by the line that you’d have kept in your heart for the rest of your life.
As one would, you’ve cycled through your fair share of these so-called dreams in the duration of your early lifetime. There was a time in third grade where you made up your mind to become a science teacher—the thought quickly being replaced just a mere two years later when you found a sudden interest in becoming a chef. Sixth grade you talked big for their age, claiming that they would open their own restaurant after graduating culinary school, despite not knowing a single thing about cooking other than all the hours spent bingeing MasterChef. You would always get a laugh out of the memory, knowing that it, too, was but a short-lived dream of a young mind still easily impressed by the world around them.
The pattern of switching life aspirations continued past elementary, and throughout your hectic high school years. With the constant new experiences you faced day to day, it was inevitable that eventually you would start seeing everything in a different light. It was part of the maturing process, you’d come to realize a few years later—getting hit by the epiphany that you no longer went through your 24-hour cycle the same way you did back when you were ten. It was a bittersweet revelation, one that ended with you looking up old shows you used to watch and playing episodes until the sunrise before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready for class. 
That wasn’t the first time you pulled an all-nighter, but it was the first one that made you feel calm throughout the day despite severely lacking sleep. 
College came around, and now you had to face yet another hurdle in your journey: admitting that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing anymore. You were attending university—check. You were in a program you personally chose—check. You had a decent social life—check; or maybe half a point, since you didn’t exactly have much time to hang out with any of them, instead opting for promises of catching up that were slowly building in number but barely decreasing. Before you knew it, the degree life was slowly eating all of the dreams that were left inside of you, leaving you with a semi-paved path completely devoid of color. What was once a garden littered with numerous flowers of the rainbow now had wilted into dehydrated brownish hues, layed lifelessly beside the narrow road.
Perhaps your grandmother was right. Dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid.
Still, you pushed through, just to see the end. There was no use turning back when you had already crawled your way up this high. All that was left for you if you did was a fall so hard that you doubt you’d even be able to recover. The image alone made you shiver, prompting you to lift the glass of liquor towards your mouth, letting the sip travel down your throat and feeling the faux warmth it provided. Your eyes shifted to the clock propped up against the bar counter’s wall, watching the hands tick at a uniform pace. It was weird knowing that time always stayed steady. These days, it seemed all over the place—sometimes slowing, sometimes speeding. At this particular moment, it was like a flowing stream. 
What kind of pace it was, you weren’t too sure. 
What you did know, though, was that the numbers on the clock were barely visible; bright neon LED lights being the only thing illuminating the dark room they called a nightclub. The speakers were blasting some upbeat pop song, entertaining the crowd trying to lose themselves on the dance floor. You could only watch from your bar stool as a girl trips over thin air, obviously a little too inebriated, before getting caught by her friend, who was now fussing over her drunken state. 
Burning liquid passed your tongue as you took another sip of your drink. Unlike that girl, you went to this place alone and on your own accord. In your mind, you contemplated why you chose to be here instead of a peaceful bar that didn’t involve a DJ and a dancefloor—but this works too. Maybe a part of you wanted to experience the thrill one last time before adult life completely takes a toll on you, so who were you to deprive yourself of the wish? Your university days had already ended just a few hours ago, with you stepping on stage to get your diploma. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself have fun after all the sacrifices you made for the sake of your damned future. 
And so you continued to watch—getting lost in the sea of bright lights and the crashing waves of your thoughts, before a familiar voice snapped you out of the trance you put yourself in.
“What are you doing here, looking all miserable like that?”
You blinked owlishly at the face that entered your line of sight. A face that was very recognizable to you, despite the undoubtedly long time you’ve gone without seeing it.
“Han Jisung?”
“The one and only,” Jisung grins. 
“Wow,” you breathed out, completely taken aback at the situation. “I haven’t seen you since our first year of uni! How have you been?”
You and Jisung used to be in the same major before he dropped out right before the start of your second year to pursue music. It would be an absolute lie if you said you didn’t miss him, especially since he was the first friend you ever made in university. You could still recall the moment he approached you in a class like it was yesterday—the Jisung of four years ago scrambling to take a seat after barely just beating the professor entering through the front door. The image of the freshly turned nineteen-year-old panting desperately evoked your concern, causing you to stare at him a little longer than necessary. But it wouldn’t be Jisung if he wasn’t observant, so he returned the stare without an ounce of shame and followed with a question if you had any spare water he could drink.
Luckily, your water bottle had just been filled a few minutes before class started, and thus a beautiful friendship was born.
Jisung took his hands out of his pockets before taking a seat at the empty bar stool to your right. “Life’s been great! Two semesters were enough for me to realize that the academic life just wasn’t for me,” he chuckles. “Oh, and congrats on graduating, by the way!”
You couldn’t help the small smile that found its way to your face at his greeting. “You knew?”
“Ah,” Jisung exclaims, leaning forward to rest his arms on the long table in front while still making eye contact to cement his presence in the conversation. “I attended the ceremony earlier, actually. You know—for Hyunjin and Seungmin. I also watched you stand on stage. That’s why I’m genuinely surprised to see you here like this.”
He looks around for a bit before returning to face you. “Where are your friends?”
You shrugged carelessly, not too bothered with the implication. “Not a clue,” you say with a light chuckle. “Probably out celebrating with their families—or maybe even with each other. Either way, I didn’t get an invite, but I already expected that.”
Jisung simply nods at your reply, and his lack of a reaction amused you more than it should. “And you? Out with Thing 1 and Thing 2?”
“Damn, they still call Seungmin and Hyunjin that? My legacy stood strong, huh?” Jisung barked out a hearty laugh before gesturing somewhere to the side of the club. “But yeah, our group’s over there in one of the sofa cubicles. You can join us if you want; it’s your day too, after all. We should be celebrating!”
You waved his offer away politely. “It’s fine, Jisung. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me crashing in. We’re not even close enough to do that.”
Jisung paused to think for a moment, his hand rising up to support his chin. Your eyes guiltily wander a bit higher, stopping at his rosy lips for a brief second before quickly going back to glare at your glass of liquor. 
Admittedly, you once had a crush on the man beside you. Han Jisung was one of the more attractive individuals on campus back then, along with the rest of his friend group. The lingering gazes of people weren’t foreign to you, as you had your fair share of experiences with them when you used to hang out with him. Jisung was simply someone who caught others’ attention, whether it was intentional or not. Of course, you weren’t exempt from that notion. The only difference was that he was a good friend you didn't want to risk losing and that you weren’t interested in dating at that moment. Romance was another dream of yours you couldn’t reach, no matter how much you yearned for it. And so you buried your feelings in a grave, eventually getting forgotten once he left your life.
You could only hope that a zombie apocalypse doesn’t start soon.
“Hm, alright,” he eventually chimes. “I’ll leave you be, soon. But, on one condition.” It was your turn to ponder over his words. 
“And what’s your condition, Han?”
Jisung attempts to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers, which you painfully caught on to too fast for your liking. He took a few more seconds to collect himself before sitting up straight and turning towards you to shyly say, “Dance with me?”
Your eyes widened into saucers, not believing what you had just heard. It was in an attempt to calm your racing heart that you accidentally froze into silence, your brain already deciding to keep 911 on standby in case you stopped breathing altogether. You internally cursed yourself for feeling a faint hope spark back in your heart, wishing for the romance you never let yourself indulge in. This wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, that you thought was appropriate to rekindle your teenage wishes. 
Unfortunately, your lack of a response made Jisung inhale audibly, seemingly preparing himself to bolt away in embarrassment—if only you hadn’t noticed his actions too, the year of friendship coming back to you to recognize his habit. You quickly willed yourself to spit out any words you could.
"Well, that’s sudden,” you shakily voiced out, but decided to lighten the awkward situation with a cough. “What, think I’m hot now after gaining a few more years?”
Jisung exhaled in relief. “Not exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, “you were already hot from the beginning.” You roll your eyes at his answer.
“Haha. You think you’re so hilarious, Jisung.”
“That, I do,” he smirks, regaining his confidence. Jisung lifts a hand towards you, opening his palm in an offering gesture. “So, what about that dance?”
You scoffed good-naturedly before taking his hand, pulling him up his seat to drag the two of you towards the center of the establishment that was still as chaotic as you left it earlier.
“Make sure you show me a good time, Jisung.”
“Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Y/N.”
Maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.
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mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶
@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix
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xzhdjsj · 1 day
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By Your Side
Isaac x Reader
Isaac comforts you
Reader is on their period and is frustrated with work.
Anyone ever had cramps so damn bad it made you throw up? Cuz that was me last week and istg i was gonna die
Also this was supposed to be entirely fluff but idk what happened and now we have this😭 It all works out in the end though!
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
It's been a day since then, and as you’d expected you feel no better. It'd take a miracle for that to happen anyways. Periods are horrible, it makes your mood sour and your body ache. Not to mention it's annoying and a hindrance to your work. That doesn't mean that Isaac lacks understanding and thinks it a hindrance too, quite the opposite actually. Isaac insists you don't lift a finger if you're not feeling well, and if you do, he's always close to keep an eye on you.
And there it is again, that discomfort in your lower abdomen and back, a tell-tale sign that your period was on its merry way to ruin your week. With a hand across your stomach, you quickly tapped your phone, checking the date. Who knew a month of cramp-free frolicking would be over that quickly. You mentally curse yourself for not keeping track again and head off to the bathroom.
Though, that doesn't always translate well in your mind.
You sat opposite him in his office, hovering over a document you've read at least 10 times but still can't seem to grasp. Each time you feel like you understood, you realise your mind had wondered off in the middle of it or you got distracted by the throbbing pain in your lower abdomen.
Isaac's gaze would find you every minute or so. He'd flip a page, then look up. Or he'd type a sentence and glace at you before continuing. It was his little system of ensuring you weren't struggling.
This time his eyes find you in a frantic state. You let out a deep sigh, flipping the page over to start reading from the top all over again. The frustration was evident, knitted in your eyebrows and the frown on your face. Your eyes were unfocused, and you kept shifting your body every few minutes.
"Are you okay?" Isaac broke the silence.
"What?" You look up at him confused by his sudden question, and a little annoyed your focus was once again broken.
"I asked if you were okay."
You rubbed the side of your neck and sigh.
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." You dismiss him, returning to the words on the page in front of you. Adamant to get it right this time.
"Are you really? You look a tired Pickle." His voice knocks your focus again.
"I'm fine Isaac." You tell him again. this time sternly.
"Are you sur-"
Your fingers massage the bridge of your nose, and your patience runs thin.
"God Isaac, I said I'm fine! I'm perfectly capable of working right now! It's literally just a period, I'm not bed ridden or something!" The words pour from your lips before you could think them through and instantly, you regret it.
"Right, I'm sorry dear. I was just worried." He's a little surprised, had you looked at him while speaking you'd see the way his eyes reflected it.
To be honest, you’re a little surprised at yourself too, but all you could think of right now was how the FUCK do you respond to that? You open your mouth to say something, anything really, but when you finally looked over at him, he's already shifted his focus to the screen in front of him. There isn't a single thing you could think of to say to him anyways.
You bend your head again, looking at the page you deemed so important earlier. Now it was just insignificant, and part of the reason for your outburst.
'How foolish' you thought to yourself, getting upset at him for showing concern over a matter he had little experience with. And despite his inexperience, he was only trying to help. It wasn't like you got any work done in the 30? 45 minutes? an hour? you were sat here. That only meant that he was right, you were clearly having a difficult time and he was observant enough to had noticed it.
The regret crashes into your chest like a tsunami. You wondered how he was feeling right now. You were considerably rude, surely that would hurt him. What if that gave him the impression that he was annoying? Because he most certainly was not! What have you done?
The thoughts swirled around your head like a brewing storm, threatening to explode at any moment. It didn't help that various parts of your body were still in pain and the only sound in the room was papers being shuffled and the clicking sounds of his keyboard. The pain gnawed at your flesh and the silence burgeoned your thoughts. There’s a lump in your throat and you’re not quite sure if you need to throw up from the pain or cry your eyes out. It was only when a single teardrop dripped onto the page below you that you realised you didn't want to be in the room anymore. You swiftly lifted your body from the chair and Isaac looked over at you right away. You couldn't return the notion; the bubbling pot of shame and regret wouldn’t let you.
"I uh,” your voice cracked and you're still unsure of what to say. "Excuse me."
You quickly push past the desk, rushing out the door. You were able to hold yourself together in front of him, but once outside, your emotions came tumbling over. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks, and you ran up the stairs to your room.
You threw yourself onto the sheets, your face buried into a pillow as your body folded into itself like an armadillo. It hurts so much. Your body, your mind, it all hurts. You sobbed into the pillow, squeezing it tightly against your chest for what felt like an eternity.
Eventually, there was a gentle knock on the door, then a soft call of your name as the door slowly swung open. You didn't hesitate, discarding the pillow quickly to sit up and voice your scrabbled thoughts.
"Isaac I'm so sorry! I- I didn't mean to yell at you- I know you were just concerned and I should’ve listened to you when you said I could rest for today-"
He takes big steps towards the bed, immediately taking you in his arms.
"Shhhhh, calm down my love. It's okay."
You're gripping onto his shirt for dear life, sobbing into his chest but he doesn't care, he pulls you even closer engulfing you fully into his body. His arms were secure and protective around you as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. His voice is so gentle and soothing, and when combined with his hand caressing up and down your back, your choked sobs were simmered down to deep breathing in no time.
"Are you feeling better?" He asks and you nod.
"I'm sorry I was so rude to you." You were barely able to murmur.
"Are you still worried about that? I won't lie, I was taken by surprise but only because this has never happened to me before. I know you aren't feeling your best today, so I understand why it happened." He explained, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. "Now, are you in any pain?"
You sigh, "Yeah, I think my cramps are extra bad this time."
"Do you want me to get you something to eat? Maybe I could make you some tea and I'll get you some painkillers."
"No!" You suddenly move and the pain stabs you sharply in your side. "Ah shit!"
"Careful, Pickle" Isaac helps you, guiding your body down onto the bed. "I'll go get you those pills, hold on for me okay?"
"Isaac, can't you just stay? Please?"
"I'll be back before you know it, just stay here for a couple minutes. You’re very strong, I’m sure you can handle just that right?"
He disappears out the door, but as promised, returns after a few minutes.
"This is all I could find." He presented a single pill to you with a glass of water. "I'll need to make sure we get some more and find other alternatives to help you. I've read that heating pads are very common, so I ordered you one."
You take the pill from his hand, washing it down with some water.
"When did you do all that?"
"Just now, before I came up here."
"So, I yelled at you and you were researching and ordering a heating pad for me? Now, I feel even more awful!" You body falls back down onto the bed.
"Don't. It happens to the best of us, I'm well aware frustration isn't easy to handle." He casually spoke while getting into bed next to you. He reached for the blanket while you nuzzled closer to him, pulling it over your bodies.
“Am I disturbing your work?” You ask.
“No, it can wait.” He was quick to dismiss the idea of work. “I was thinking, what should I make you for dinner?”
He rubs circles in your back, from top to bottom. The warmth from his hands and the effects on the painkillers relaxed your body and made your eyelids heavy.
“You’re gonna cook for me?” You yawn.
“What? Is my cooking not good?” He teased playfully.
You giggle at his response. “Hmm of course not, I love your food. But I don’t know, hmmm how about mashed potatoes?”
“Just mashed potatoes?”
“Yeah, that’s all I want.”
“Sounds easy enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “You should get some rest now.”
“You’ll stay with me, right?” You yawn again.
“Of course my love, and when you open your eyes again, I promise I’ll still be here.”
His gentle hand against your back, and comforting scent made your body heavy and lulled you to sleep in no time. You dreamt of him, and when you woke up again, he was still there with you, eyes closed and mellow breathing as he slept.
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terras-domain · 2 days
Note
Hey man good day 👍🏻
I read you take requests? I have something in mind since I read that Karina × Chaehyun lesbian fic I thought of requesting a lesbian smut but this time it's StayC's J & Isa where J is purely obsessed with Isa and she will be the dom one. Besides, we rarely see StayC smuts and them two are just perfect. ❤️
Anywayz that was it. Thanks very much 👌
Pushing Limits
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Lee Chaeyoung (Isa) x Jang Yeeun (J) - Stayc
Tags: Teasing, Lesbian sex, tribbing (scissoring idk what you guys call it), invasion of privacy
words: 3309
terra's note: helloo @unspoken-rage04 I know this took you quite a while. It's been like what, two weeks? I started this around Saturday March the 27th so yeah it is taking me quite some time. I hope you (and other people who's reading this enjoys. Love you all <33
"Unnie! What kind of question are you even asking?" J's oval face blushed, turning blush red as the game of truth or dare between the girls got heated up. It was mostly pure silliness and everything you would expect from the Stayc girls to do, but Sumin's question of truth was too hard to answer, especially with the whole group around the living room of the dorm. "What? It wasn't all that serious. It's just a simple question of who's your crush?" Well, it was kind of a lie. Sumin oversimplified J's truth question that she gave. She asked if she was given a chance to have sex with one idol, who would it be?
"Well why not? It's not like we're strangers. Felix from Straykids is known for being so kinky, there's guys like Joshua from Seventeen who's more softer and gentle. All rumours of course hahaha!" Yoon giggled, looking at her blushing maknae, who's now the spotlight of their little game. Her cute flustered expressions just radiates a wide smile in the room, enjoying the adorable sight of Stayc's babygirl. "Well it's not that I don't want to say it-" J flicks her hair back, the brunette trying to recover her cool by scrunching her lips to the side. "-I just so happen to not have anybody in mind yet. I'm not horny like you perverts" J pointed her nose to the ceiling, acting cocky and trying to cover up her messy and heart racing self, trying her best to run away from the question. "Oh, you sure J? Not even women? Not even your cute little unnie~?" Isa, the woman sitting next to her in the imaginary circle they made by sitting next to each other finally let out some words. She loved watching her little maknae looking so helpless and shy, it's so adorable.
Isa's face now inches closes to J, only a pinky finger away from each other. The girls laugh it off, having their little entertainment fulfilled by their maknae's reaction, filled with heat and oxytocin radiating through her face, showing how she's a bit turned on by Isa's little tease. "Unnie....are you drunk again?" J asked, her unnie does smell of booze. Must be related to the dozen of cans stashed in the dumpster just now, must be Isa's doing since she drinks a lot. "I'm not drunk~ *hic* this is totally me normally" despite being drunk, Isa's words weren't wrong. No matter what state she's in, she always finds away to flirt and tease the members, J being her prime target. Something about J just made her want to tease the cutie brunette everyday, whether it is by treating her like a baby and feed her food out in the open, or something like this; having her face as close to each other as possible. It works of course, evident by J's heart pounding hard, trying to control her emotions and not immediately just pounce on her unnie. After all, Isa has always been the one teasing her. Of course at some point J will slowly develop feelings for her cutesy unnie. How she occasionally teases her everyday, her friendly and teasy nature, and her curvy body to top it all off just drives J crazy.
"Ummm- I really don't have an answer for this guys.." J flusters, hiding her face behind the palm of her hands, cupping her flushed red face from her unnies. Her unnies, looking at their shy maknae, reacted with a teasing giggle. Although it answering the truth question is part of the game, they didn't wanna bully their maknae any further. "Okay okay okay let's just get to bed girls. We're all looking pretty dead tired." Sumin gives a beaming smile, ending their little game to calm down J. Her eyes shift to Isa, who chugged one too many beers that makes her look dead drunk at the living room. "You go to sleep Isa. You're getting too drunk haha." The leader looked at the intoxicated kitty, barely awake and thinking straight with the amount of alcohol in her body. "Whaaat? *hic* I'm completely fine!" She argued, but her breath reeks of booze. Sumin could only shake her head with a smirk on her face, and shifting her attention to J. "Can you help guide Isa to to her room J?" she asked, asking the maknae for a favour. Their rooms are next to each other so it was pretty convenient for J to carry Isa to her room.
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J tried to refuse, pushing the responsibility of taking care of her kitty unnie to someone else but Sumin didn't budge, this is her job now. With Isa's right arm around her shoulder, guiding Isa to her room. The intoxicated Isa was getting in heat, trying to get the maknae's reaction, her cherry red lips puckered up to kiss J's cheeks. "Unnie....you're so drunk" J grunted, trying to avoid to fall deeper in the rabbit hole, being indulged in Isa's teasing would just make her emotions run wild. Isa kept pulling the maknae's face, eventually her lips do reach J's smooth cheeks. "U-unnie! You really are drunk!" J exclaimed, her red as tomato face looks straight into Isa's eyes, her face looking half awake and seconds away from passing out. As soon they reached the teasy kitty's room, J helped Isa to lay down, resting on her bed. "Are you not gonna join me in bed, J-baby?" Isa asked, her adorable face pouting into J's soul, making her heart skips two beats. How is it possible for her to resist such a beauty that Isa is gifted with? J tried to shook off her thoughts of being in bed with her, turning away from her teasy unnie, running away from her teases. In an act of last resort, Isa grabbed her dongsaeng, causing J to turn back to Isa as Isa planted her lipson J's. The sudden kiss made J almost melt in Isa's arm, replying the kiss as they took a good 10 seconds enjoying each other's lips, making out before J pulled away, her shyness took over her mind and avoided the situation to get any more heated. "I'm sorry unnie, I can't-" the conflicted J could do nothing but run away, storming to her room as she leaves the half aware Chaeyoung in her room who right after getting rejected fell into her bed, passing out from the aftereffect of alcohol in her body.
It was a restless night for J, for the better or worse. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her unnie. Even as she rests asleep in her room, Isa still roams rent free in her mind, popping in her dream. Her curves, her teasy words, her body boldly inching closer to her. Despite being a figment of her imaginations, J's dream felt surreal. The heat from Isa felt like the same heat it radiates every time the two are close to each other. Her words were the same cheesy lines Isa throws to her, seducing the toyish maknae. As soon she woke up, J felt a little heavy, as if her mind had something to tell her, something to deal with. As she was massaging her scalp, looking to ease the pain from last night's roller coaster of emotions, she noticed a notification coming from her text messages. She wasn't in a rush to reply just yet, as her mind is still fixated on one thing. "I should go and apologised to Isa." She monologued, finally reaching her senses. She got up and got herself presentable, despite still in her pajamas, and head towards her neighbouring room, Isa's. "Unnie, are you in there?" J's voiced came followed with a few knocks on her door. No answer.
Curiosity filled the maknae's mind, so she opened the door to check on her senior. She was very drunk last night so she might be still asleep. But to her surprise, she was greeted with a room with no one inside. What was left was the clothes Isa wore last night left on the bed. Puzzled, she resorted in checking her phone to find some clues. And that's when the text message gave her answers.
"@ j (baby yeeun) we're out shopping for a while today. we wanted to bring you along but you were asleep. soz >.<" a text message came from Sumin, which made nod her head, grasping the situation a bit more.
So it turns out she was alone in the dorm, and it's only her at the moment. J looked around, the room flashing the incident of last night, but this time her feelings for Isa were too strong to make her too shy to run away again. She sat down and sat on Isa's bed, her eyes roaming around the nicely yet plain looking room before her eyes stared at the garments stashed on the bed. She was only catching a few glances, but her pupils were fixated on one thing for some reason, Isa's panties. She knows she wants to, and knows damn well she shouldn't. "I can't, but-" J's mind was all over the place. Her heart beating as if she ran a marathon, her mind contemplating the consequences of her actions that she may or may not do in the next seconds. Lust overcame logic, and so did J's heart overcoming her brain, her hand now grasp Isa's used panty, now in her possession. She was hesitant, but the more she overthinked it, the more she wants it. J lifted the underwear near her face, closing in the cloth towards her nose to take a sniff. "Oh gosh, fuck." J groaned, her mind knows this is wrong, especially in Isa's room, but at this point she can't turn back. All that teasing, all the built up emotion, all those sinful lust inside her, it has to be let out. J continued her pursuit on Isa's unintended panty, taking a deeper sniff while her fingers reach lower down her body and underneath her pants. Her fingers reaching her own cunt, touching it as her index finger ran fingers around her clitoris, fully submerged in her own lust for her unnie, until she was completely oblivious of the audience in front of her. "Well, well, well. Enjoying yourself J?" A giggled followed the question, a soft and familiar voice for J that made her body jolt from the shock.
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" Wait unnie- I, I can explain!" she definitely can't. Her mind races for an excuse, but before she can come up with a witty answer, Isa is already on top of her, pinning the panicking J to the soft mattress. "I-I thought you were out with the others." J finally had a her mouth speak a sensible sentence, which only replied with a sweet grin from Isa's face. "I didn't I was up when they were leaving so they didn't have to text me to let me know. I was just down stairs eating breakfast~" Isa explained, but her arms firmly grab hold onto J's wrists, forebiddening her from moving an inch. "And you seem to be having a lot of fun here, aren't you J-baby?" she snickered, her lips letting out a small laugh as J looked up, helpless. Her little sin caught red handed, and seems like Isa is here to punish her. "Don't worry cutie, I won't hurt you. We both know we wanted this, right?" Isa led the way this time, her words can only be responded by J's nodding head. Her mouth is sealed tight, unable to form a single word to reply. It wasn't really necessary for J to speak anyways since short after Isa got her face close to J again, giving her a deep kiss. This time J didn't run away, instead embracing her unnies soft lips on hers, taking each other while Isa rested her weight on top of J.
"nghh...unnie~" J's lips slipped out words, causing Isa to stop her barrages of kisses on her maknae's lips. She didn't say a word, instead her eyes stare deep into J's letting her know she can speak. "I'm sorry, for yesterday." It was all her mind could think of. It was her initial plan to come and apologize anyways so she got what she needed to do crossed. "Hehehe oh Yeeun~ it's okay. I loved teasing you anyways." The older Stayc member giggled before her lips got back on her maknae, she doesn't want to waste this chance. She wants all of her. "Although if you wanna apologize you gotta do it properly~" she grinned, adjusting herself so that her thick body is kneeling directly above J's gorgeous face. "I saw you enjoying my panties Yeeun~ why not have a taste at here?" She looked down, noticing J being a bit hesitant about it. Isa didn't want to force her any further, instead she just let her do her thing, she knows J wants it as much as she does. J, still staring at Isa's bare pussy after she slid her panties to the side, is still dumbfounded. Her heart debating with itself if she wants to or not, but she knows the answer deep down already. It was always gonna be a the same answer. Every, damn, time. The urges took over her, her tongue sticking out as she starts to lick up Isa's tight cunt, making Isa let out a satisfactory moan, feeling her maknae lick it slowly but passionately. Her hand moves towards her own two chests, groping them gently while J continues to give her unnie pleasure. Her tongue moving up and down, licking by the entrance of her pussy making Isa groan in pleasure, relieved to finally get her hands on her lovable maknae. "Oh fuuck yes baby, you're better than I thought you were~" Isa grunted, her hands holding on to the bedframe now as she grinded on J's ecstatic face, enjoying the pleasure of finally being free to do what she wants to, to finally be able to let out her lust for Isa.
With Isa taking the lead now, her hips grinding on the younger member's face, J got the freedom to plant her hands on her pussy. Sliding down her pants and panties off, she managed to let her tight cunt out for her to touch, rubbing the entrance of her private temple feel the fresh air in Isa's room. Rubbing it gently while her mouth pleasures Isa's, J was occupied. Her body is drugged in sex, loving it and needing even more. She wants Isa, she wants her unnie. With Isa keeping her hips moving front and back, her face is nothing more of a seat for J, letting her tongue be the point of pleasure to Isa's cravings. "Nghhhh- you're amazing Yeeun baby~" Isa grinned as she stops, letting J take her much needed breath. She helped her to sit up, taking a quick break while Isa helps her calm down and fixing her maknae's messy hair, probably from the amount of riding Isa did to her face. "Unnie...." J breathed out her call, getting herself a bit more clingy, the opposite of her usual reaction towards Isa's teasing. "I want more" J continued, her face reflecting a cute pout, almost as if she's begging for Isa to do more to her.
"Oh my little J baby~ Finally being honest huh?" She giggled, her lips planting kisses on both sides of J's cheeks, slowly kissing her before her hand rubs on J's pussy. "I'll give you lots of love baby~" She giggled before she spreads her fellow member's legs wide, showing off J's wet pussy. Loving the sight she smiles at J as they both go in for another kiss, making out deeply once more, this time with both of them being naked in Isa's bed. Isa leans her body closer, her cunt now touching J's as they start to rub their private parts together. J was sensitive, she arched her body away from Isa, shocked by the new sensation that Isa gave her from their clitorises touching each other. "It's okay Yeeun~ it'll feel good, trust me" Isa whispered into her ears after pulling out from their kiss, reassuring the anxiety maknae. The truth or dare game was already clear evidence of her virginity, and the fact Isa was her first, she has to go slow but also strong enough to please her. Her hips hump back and forth slowly, riding on J's lower half, making the maknae moan loudly from the ecstasy of pleasure Isa is giving her. "Nghhhh aaaah unnie...it feels so good" J voiced out her moans, lifting on of her legs up, making it easier for Isa to move. "Mmmmh oh yeah? I love it too baby. My little baby J feels so good." Isa replied, her body increasing the pace of her grinding, feeling the folds of their pussies clashing together as they scissor, grinding on each other. J made sue to move too, she doesn't want her unnie to do all the work. Their bodies now getting tensed up, edging towards their climax. Their hips couldn't stop moving, clashing their pussies together while Isa's bedroom turns into that of a moaning mess. "Aaaah~ fuck yeah J move your body just like that. Such a quick learner you are huh?" Isa made a quick remark on J's quick adaptability to Isa's pace, enjoying both of their bodies together as they hugged, making sure the other doesn't move away.
"unnie....I can't hold it much longer~" J whined, the tension on her lower end is piling up, she couldn't wait no further. She wants this. She wants to cum for her adorable unnie. "You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum with your unnie~?" Isa's voice starts to get breathy, her hands clenching into fists as she held her dongsaeng tight, her pussy almost at her limit. "Unnie... I-I can't hold it anymore-!" Their tension got louder, their moans escalate higher and higher as the movement from their hips progressively got faster too. "Mmmh~ cum with me Yeeun, cum with me baby." The two Stayc girls moaned out loud, finally giving in as they held each other, J digging her nails slightly into Isa's skin as she lets out her streams of cum, squirting together with her unnie as they both cum and yelp from the pleasure.
It all felt like a blank space after. Both Isa and J were left quiet. Laying down in bed, staring into each other, reality kicking into their minds for what just happened. "Hehe, how was it baby? It was pretty fun huh?" Isa squeezed closer towards her panting maknae, trying to gain her breathe, and also process the whole thing. Seeing her senior smiling again, a sincere angelic smile she always puts on, brings sparkles in J's heart. She was joyful. It was a crazy ride, and she was doing it fully scared of what might happen. J reached her arm to cuddle in with Isa, smiling with her as they both grinned and laughed at each other, both of them surprised to see the outcome of all of Isa's teasing actually lead to them having sex. "I love you unnie" J, now confident and thinks less of her decision, tightly wrap her unnie around her arms, hugging tight after planting a kiss on her unnie's lips. "Aww~ I love you too my little J-baby" Isa replied, resting with her, both cuddling up closely and resting with each other's heat present.
"The others won't get mad over this, right unnie?"
"Naaaah don't worry J, they probably knew we'd fuck sooner or later hehe~" Isa's words turn back to teasing mode, making J reset her mind to the usual shy and easily flustered self from the flirtatious Isa. "UNNIE!"
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anime-dreams · 3 days
Text
Idk man pt 2??? Jjk season 2 was traumatising (gege 😡) but sukuna was really hot
Anyways heres Shokos pov after ✨Gojoe✨ and 🗣️Geetoes🦶breakup (i love shoko omg shes so hot and shes savage)
I could barely recognise you after he left. Those blue eyes no longer held the familiar warmth and glow. Your mood swings were so sudden, your silence was so loud, i could not stand to be around you for too long anymore. But you know what i could not stand most? Seeing you, the supposed “strongest” wasting away, like a dimming star. What have you became? Unrecongisable. 
I still keep in touch with Geto. I receive his letters twice a week, and the way he talked about you, it was like you hung stars in the sky. Each one of those letters never failed to mention your name, never failed to ask me to check up on you. And that day, i knocked softly on your door, with a bag full of your favourite snacks. You were crying. I heard it. You never cried, at least, not in front of me. But when you opened the door, you greeted me with a smile that did not reach your eyes. Why are you hiding your feelings from me? Have i also not been with you for the past 2 years? I reached out my hand to pat your back, to try to comfort you, and you flinched, taking a step back, as my hand came into contact with seemingly nothing. Oh yeah, i forgot. Your infinity has been on ever since he left. You took one more step back awkwardly, not meeting my eyes. I know that i can never replace him, but for you to act like im a complete stranger… was i not there? Your actions following his disappearance… it made me question myself if my place in your lives have ever been as meaningful as i had thought. Was i merely an afterthought in the story of our friendship? I didnt even remember how i felt, but i heard myself yell: “Can you suck it up and get the hell over him already?” and the already flickering light in your eyes went out, completely. Before i knew it, your amplification blue took away the whole ceiling and turned it into shambles. Those chipped pieces of wood and shattered pieces of glass held my gaze, as i saw, reflected in them, an image of us. Once strong, now cracked and split. It hurts, you know. Is this how it’s going to end? 
We still talked, but every word you said, every smile you flashed at me, your eyes remained void. Every joke you cracked, every prank you pulled, hollowness echoed after them. I could do nothing but leave you to wallow in your misery. After all, im not him. I cant get you to open up to me like you do with him. You need to know when it’s necessary to let things go, simply for the reason that they are heavy. Deep down, i believe that you havent lost who you are, you’re just different, and that’s okay. But it was painful, to see you like that. 
I stared at the image of you crouching over him, debating if i should disturb the moment. You said something, and he smiled, holding tightly onto his still bleeding shoulder. His lips moved, conveyed his last thoughts to you, then his arms slackened, and his head drooped. You remained there, saying nothing. Your blindfold was off, your shoulders were hunched, your jaw was clenched, and in those swirling shades of blue in your eyes, i could somehow only see emptiness. It wasent long before i had to step in. i was supposed to take care of his body’s disposal, after all. And before i could even touch him, you pushed me aside, with so much force that i almost fell. Your head turned, your eyes cast a piercing gaze at me, and those blue were no longer empty. In them, a whirlwind of emotions swirled, some of which i could not comprehend. How can i, anyway? When you never told me anything. I took that as my cue to leave. 
You and him fit each other perfectly, like yin and yang. Then… where am I? To you and him, what have i been this whole time? In some other life, we are standing side by side, and laughing at the fact that in some other life, we are apart. Gojo, Geto, i really hope that we will meet again, that in another life, our paths will cross again, not as Gojo, Geto, or Shoko, but 3 strangers that become the best of friends. Maybe in another life, our fates won’t be sealed and our destinies won’t be so complicated. Maybe in that other life, I will no longer feel invisible.
(😭😭😭its so sad that shoko stuck by toru and sugu all those times and shes like, so damn invisible. 'theres always a duo in a trio' 😢 i love her so much)
Anyways thanks for making it here!! Im the type that only writes when i feel really emo or when im free (student life's really busy :() so im not really active here BUT i appreciate any constructive feedback/criticism if any so pls do comment and TYSMMM FOR MAKING IT HERE 😍
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gutterfuuck · 20 hours
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you have literally infiltrated my brain with bff mark it’s not even funny 😭😭 where tf is my childhood best friend who is literally obsessed with me, thinks we’re soulmates, will scare off anybody who gets too close to me, and thinks he absolutely knows what’s best for me?? like??? helloooo??
-🎀
bowtiful anon!! i see your ask and i raise you this:
“KNEESOCKS”
“when you know who’s calling even though the number is blocked—!”
mark finds out you have found out that you have a creepy stalker.
cw: MDNI!!!, more bff!mark, somno (making out), religious themes(?), worship, short drabble, reader knows mark is invincible but not essential to story.
side note that has nothing to do with this story whatsoever: mark would most definitely pick out your outfit for the day and look over at you with lovey eyes as he lets you try his ice cream, feeding you with the spoon… idk just an idea haha
you had a stalker.
you knew you had a stalker, there was no way you were going crazy. messages would flood your phone at night time, every time you would block one number another would pop up. this was getting scary.
3am, saturday morning. your messenger app started to blow up.
ding.
— you’re like a god to me, you’re my saviour.
ding.
— i need you so bad it’s driving me insane.
ding. ding, ding, ding-
you had enough. you put your phone on do not disturb, going straight to your phone book app and flicking through your recently called until you saw mark’s name, pressing the screen and listening to the dialling sounds of your phone, waiting for the ‘calling…’ under his name to turn into ‘0:00’ to signify that he had picked up.
“y/n..?”
yes.
“mark? oh- mark it’s horrible i’m- please can you just come over..! i’ll tell you when im-“
tick, tick, tick.
your head shot over to your window, getting up off of your bed and opening your curtains to see your best friend floating outside the glass, concern plastered on his face as you quickly scrambled to open the latch, pulling open the window and grabbing onto his hand to bring him inside. you threw your arms around his shoulders and planted your face in his chest with a sob, his arms wrapping around you like a safe cocoon, stroking the back of your head and shushing you.
“what’s wrong? jesus christ, you’re not hurt are you?” he asks, pulling away from you for a minute to observe your shaking figure. you shook your head, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your pajama top. “i think- i think i have a s-..stalker-!” you squeaked out, struggling to admit your fear to him. his face contorted in anger, jaw clenched and teeth gritting, “what? wait, who, do you know who!?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowing when you shook your head. “i’ll find them, y/n. i promise- i’ll get on it first thing in the morning.” he reassured you, guiding you over to sit on your bed and swiping his thumbs under your eyes, wiping away your tears.
“please stay with me…” you said in between little sobs, getting back under your covers and resting your head on your pillow. mark nodded, of course he would, leaving you was out of the question. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll kill whoever they are.” he laid next to you on top of the covers, eyes fixed on you as you thanked him, wished him a good night and slowly slipped back into sleep, smiling before you lost yourself in dreams again.
4:30am.
mark never took his eyes off of you, watching as your chest raised up and down as you lightly snored, cutely even. you looked so peaceful like this, you had yourself out with your little sobs. he placed his hand on your cheek, leaning in to plant a kiss on your open mouth. “i’ll keep you safe forever,” he whispered, head pressed against yours. “you don’t ever have to be scared, not when i’m here.” he continued, tongue sliding between and past your lips. you mewled in your sleep, tongue moving involuntarily against his own. mark pulled away, tugging down the covers and observing your thin pajama jumper, your nipples hardening underneath the material. he wanted to suck on them, leave wet patches on your shirt from wetting them through the material. you were a heavy sleeper, mark knew that all too well.
“you’re my muse,” he breathed, hands tracing over your sleeping body with messy desperation, “you saved me, so i’ll save you… saved me like-… a god..” he finished, looking down on you beneath him.
“i’ll keep you safe from everything apart from me.”
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justallihere · 2 days
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The way I was grinning ear to ear reading this chapter (EXCEPT FOR THE SOBBING PART HOW DARE YOU)
This chapter was very Violet (black cat gf) x Xaden(doberman bf) coded, sleepy cat gf being guarded by her scary dog boyfriend
X will shirk their duties for as long as he needs to, who cares if they have a country to run, his wife needs good food and sleep!!!!
 "Xaden loomed over her shoulder" I can tell I'm already going to love reading this bit OVER and OVER again
“You go or I go.”  “You fight dirty,” he murmured.  I already know this is going to be a repeat offense between V and X -- consequences of your actions indeed Xaden
Liam held her even tighter. “It’s my honor,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “To be your friend. To be your guard. To know you. I would do it all over again, Vi.” 
absolutely sobbed when Liam started to cry bc Vi was crying 😭 (be ready to hear from my therapist). In this house, men cry and its healthy!!!!
Platonic squad naps/cuddling 😭 😭 😭 someone give Ridoc and Rhi an award bc I love them so much (sawyer too but he was w/ jesnia sooo)
THE HUG!! THE HUG!!!! and Xaden's hand always going to her hair
I swear Alli, if Xaden gets tortured... idk what I'd do. I'd probably eat it up bc Violet would literally rip ppl in half to get to her husband
Xaden feels so much more open with his emotions (smiling and laughing 😭) around violet and im here for it
“It’s an unlocking rune I'm so glad he tells her these things instead of leaving her in the dark like in canon (looking at you RY)
The potential and TENSION between Felix and Devera 👀👀👀
questions:
Why hasn't Mira slept 😭 also when/will we see Mira vs Brennan?
OMG WAIT - if the trade deal is off with Navarre... does that mean they have to make a deal with Teacurus??? Or does Mama Sorrengail come in clutch
Xaden literally does not CARE. Violet needs a nap so Violet gets a nap. End of story.
Their height difference makes his looming so much funnier because I imagine she maybe reaches his shoulder so he doesn’t even have to try to move or do anything out of the ordinary to glare at people over the top of her head. And Violet will absolutely be using his overprotectiveness to her advantage. Xaden needs to do something but won’t? Oh well she’s queen, she can just go! (Or not.)
The platonic nap!! I’ve had that scene in my head for so long 😭
It took 200k words but they HUGGED. Everyone clap. Also yeah Xaden takes every excuse he can get to touch Violet’s hair and she will have to call him out on that eventually.
Idk I can’t remember if Felix and Devera even so much as looked at each other in canon but I don’t care there’s potential. They would be so badass together.
Mira’s stressed as fuck and having a lot of emotions about life so sleep is evading her. Mira/Brennan showdown hopefully next chapter?? I promise you she’s not calm, she is vibrating with rage but holding it in for Violet’s sake.
Re: trade deals will be answered soon!!!
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grindingsugar · 18 days
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its dangerous to go alone! take thisヾ(≧▽≦*)o
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the PNGs 🥺🤲💕
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bluerosefox · 4 months
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Mysterious Relations AU
Group Chat: [TwoHalfasMakeaWholeNERD]:
The(Better)Remix:
[Sent Imagine: it was a picture of a painting of two very wealthy adults stood with smiles as their hands were placed on a smiling child, with black hair and blue eyes, between them]
Lol, hey Template we sure you're a Fenton by blood? Cause you're looking very much like a Wayne clone tbh or something!
--
TheOriginal: Firstly WTH THAT'S SO WEIRD. Secondly ELLIE did you sneak into the Wayne's place?! GET OUT BEFORE THEY SEE YOU! We don't need another Fruitloop on our case!
-x-x-
An AU where Ellie travels to Gotham and is just hanging around in human form, got stared at by a lot of the older Gothamites, many of them commenting that she looks like a young female version of Bruce Wayne but with Martha Wayne favoring over Thomas, so being the curious gremlin she is she sneaks into the Wayne Manor (What, like it was hard?) and finds the Wayne family painting.
Ellie being Ellie snaps a picture with her phone and sends it to Danny, jokingly questioning his parentage.
She's so distracted by her messages to Danny she never noticed the elder gentleman standing behind her, ready to ask the young miss if she needed anything.
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exdeputysonso · 5 months
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Brad Dourif as Hemmingway | London Kills Me (1991)
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deathbypufferfish · 5 months
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I created some art today to visualize how my functional seizure auras feel to me. For those who don't know, some people (not all), get a feeling before they have a seizure.
If you look it up on Google one of the descriptions is "indescribable feeling". So I thought I'd visualize this. I started it while I was still in an aura as well. It's a very distressing feeling, so it felt good to paint it out.
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featherymainffins · 30 days
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if you have further inquiries you can reach me in hell
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bumblingbabooshka · 6 months
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Odd and Recent Planets
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kaiser is in such a terrible state of mind that even the other players are like girl 😭
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crystalcanis · 19 days
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I want to talk about my ocs publicly more like I used to years so... so freakin BAD!!!
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