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zacncheese · 16 hours

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I have feelings about Aegon and since we’re all waiting for season two I’m gonna rant for a bit.

…

I’d like to talk about Alicent in the Green trailer saying something along the lines of “do you understand how much has been sacrificed to get you on the throne?” to Aegon and how low key manipulative that line is.

She knows Aegon doesn’t care about the throne but he does care about being burdensome to his family and that’s why the line most likely weighs heavily on him, we don’t quite know how he reacts from it but from the little bit in the trailer the line does affect him.

This is Aegon having to literally be dragged to his own coronation! This is Aegon trying to flee to Essos to avoid a war over the throne he doesn’t want or feel he is worthy of and ALICENT HAS THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT TO HIM?! HE DIDNT WANT THIS! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO AVOID ALL OF IT BECAUSE HE HATED THE IDEA OF TAKING THE THRONE SO MUCH HE WAS WILLING TO GIVE UP BEING A PRINCE! HE DIDNT ASK FOR ANY OF IT AND YOU’RE GOING TO USE THAT TO EMOTIONALLY HURT HIM?! Like I’m grateful the show is showing that side of her cause that is book accurate Alicent but I hattttteeee how Aegon is treated in the show and by the fandom.

I hatttteee that certain characters are deemed sympathetic and oh no poor them (Viserys) while others are not graced with an ounce of sympathy or most importantly empathy (Aegon). Is Viserys entirely bad? No, I hate him but I do not believe he has no redeeming qualities. He loved Aemma and he unfortunately realized his greed for a son was less important far too late, after he killed his wife for a son, does he love Rhaenyra and (sometimes, it’s rare cause Viserys is a coward by nature) stand up for her? Yes, but he is far less sympathetic than CHILD (say whatever you want about adult Aegon but child Aegon deserves none of what he is given) Aegon in my mind I will take no criticism on that. Viserys actively created the toxic environment he is surrounded by, if he’s suffering it’s of his own making. Aegon was a child for a bit of this nonsense and had absolutely no control over what happened around him.

Aegon is the son VISERYS FORCED TO EXIST. He manipulated (softly which is why people like Viserys more than like Larys Strong for example) but he still MANIPULATED (show Alicent not book Alicent cause book Alicent is the one who seduces him and manipulates him) Alicent into marrying him at 15, forcing her to have his children as she can’t deny her husband AND THE LITERAL KING. He wanted a son so badly he carved his first wife up to try to save the son that was killing her, this failed and so he forced Alicent to give him that son and then ONCE AEGON IS NO LONGER CUTE OR EASY TO LOVE HE TOSSES HIM ASIDE. He becomes completely and utterly absent in Aegon’s life and that’s not even talking about how little he cares about Helaena, Aemond, or Daeron, Daeron who was literally shipped off to another part of the continent. He does not care for Aegon, he doesn’t guide him, does not instruct him and teach him the ways of the world. Instead Aegon is stuck with having to rely on Criston “I bash in people’s skulls cause I can’t control my anger and I can’t get over the girl I fucked ten years ago” Cole and Otto “I view women as literal incubators for sons” Hightower, alongside Alicent “I’m a hypocritical coward who will damn and literally terrorize any woman who tries to find a way to cheat the patriarchal society instead of using my power as Queen to make my children’s lives better than my own” Hightower. These same people teach and raise him. One, they teach him to not regulate or handle his emotions. Two, they frequently and repeatedly beat and verbally insult him for just saying I don’t want to challenge my sister for a throne that isn’t mine. Three, teaches him and enables the toxic and sexist mentality perpetrated by the society that they live in that women are things to use and abuse by men and that consent does not matter to him because he is not only a man but a prince and she has no real right to deny him.

Why do you think Aegon grows to be an abuser? Because he was never taught anything else. His bad behavior was enabled or even encouraged, with only slight punishment from the same woman who literally paid his victim hush money to not tell people that her son forced himself on her. She stands there telling the girl her son forced himself on that “I understand” and “It’s not your fault” and then LITERALLY PAYS HER HUSH MONEY TO SHUT UP ABOUT IT AND GIVES HER WESTEROSI BIRTH CONTROL! THEREFORE ENABLING AND ALLOWING THAT BEHAVIOR AND SHE ACTS LIKE SHE HAD NO PART TO PLAY IN WHY HER SON BECAME AN ABUSER!

He is exactly your son. He is the son you chose to raise. Aegon wasn’t born like this, YOU MADE HIM LIKE THIS AND THEN DESPISE AND CURSE HIM FOR IT. He never had a chance to be anything else, he was doomed from the start and that is why I empathize more with Aegon than Viserys. Do I feel bad that Aegon was slapped and called out for forcing himself on a girl? No, he should have been properly punished. He should have been punished for that kind of behavior a LONG time ago. But that’s exactly the problem, Alicent doesn’t punish him for this behavior and then gets upset when he continues doing it. You created the “monster” in front of you and then are shocked when he does monstrous things. You made your own bed and now you refuse to lie in it and instead choose to frequently and repeatedly abuse, terrorize, and antagonize those who refuse to participate (Rhaenyra) in the system that turned you into a victim and your son into an abuser.

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desi-lesbian · 1 month

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You know when you do the bare minimum in a relationship. Take the most basic efforts for someone. And it means the world to them.

Yeah, that breaks my heart. Because they never got that and now think you are swimming oceans for them when in fact you are just dipping your feet in water

You deserve to be loved so fiercely. You deserve to be respected. You deserve to be treated like human and not just an object for their pleasure

#set your standards high #easy to be stuck #easy to believe that you don’t deserve this #that you’re not worth it #it’s not true #you deserve the world #fight for it #mine

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ziracona · 2 years

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We remember how much his ‘look at what they’re doing, what they’re asking you to do,’ monologue slapped, but what Deacon doesn’t get enough credit for is that he’s right about every single faction when he cautions you too.

#I have been thinking about this a lot but his problem with the Minutemen is he doesn’t trust the power structure as not likely to corrupt &#while if you’re a good General the Minutemen stay in corrupted and are /very good/ they can also become used by a bad PC and deeply corrupt #and even convinced to sell out the commonwealth to the institute AND think they’re doing the right thing so he’s actually 4-for-4 #he’s a little harsh maybe but he’s /not/ wrong and people don’t talk about that or the monutemen’s potential for corruption either #I adore the Minutemen! they’re great. working hard RN to drag Deacon on their entire quest line so he will like them better. but this does #not change they have the potential for deep corruption as well as becoming a great group. it’s so /easy/ to tell people who to hate and why #when you’re in charge. and the difference between them and the Railroad is the Railroad knows they’re signing on to a death sentence and #everyone is there out of a personal experience and personal conviction to do what they think is right. none of them have heard these people #are heroes and think they can become heroes by signing on. they’re a bunch of traumatized - angry - hurt people desperate to not let #something that happened to them before happen again. you can’t easily corrupt viciously held personal beliefs #now it’s not necessarily bad either that the Minutemen represent hope and justice and good! hope is vital and so is potential. people have #to believe in something right? but it does introduce the easy threat of being corrupted because people are there for the idea of something #and ideas corrupt quicker in reality than action plans do. I think it’s fascinating #Anyway Preston deserves a Minutemen who live up to what he saw them as as a child and the commonwealth needs real good guys and I will /#/always/ see he and they get them. but I don’t think Deacon is given credit foe the validity of his criticism.#it happened when he was young. they sold out and power corrupted and almost all of them and a lot of civilians died. that doesn’t have to #happen again. they /can/ be different: but it’s important to remember how easily it did last time. learn from the past. move forward #fallout 4 #god I love the Minutemen though they’re very sweet. the fear in my soul when I see three people in cowboy hats with muskets and no armor #trying to take out a sentry bot in the distance let me tell you even on survival I jump into danger with a panic previously unknown #kind little fools. they’re doing great : ) 💙

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whimsyprinx · 1 year

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I so desperately want to life a ghibli-esque life where I see the wonders and joy in the mundane parts of life but that’s also impossible besties

#whimsy whispers #I do believe a big part of it is feeling both isolated and stuck #I feel so alone and like I’m never going to be anywhere other than where I am rn both like physically as in location wise and like idk #mentally and emotionally as well #like it sounds so easy to just like try and treat things as if they’re wonderful and nice but it’s just not #I can barely go anywhere there’s not really anywhere to go either nor is there anyone to see and it’s just hard to find joy in life when #you feel unwanted and like a burden #the weather is warmer the flowers are blooming and soon fireflies will be back but that’s still just not enough to make life seem worth it #it’s bleak and it’s nothing #delete later #sorry it’s been a bit since I’ve been so depressed on main but like #it all got to me again #even the things I have planned don’t feel worth it or like it’ll actually happen #sure my roommates and I agreed to see the new barbie movie and yo try and go to a ren faire #but honestly most likely neither will happen as is often the case #and so I don’t want to get my hopes up and honestly even if they do happen I don’t know if I care #I don’t know that I’ll even be happy or have fun #nothing is fun nothing is nice I just feel like every minute I spend like as a person is wasted #I feel like someone else deserves the time I have alive

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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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autball · 7 months

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We. Can. Hear. You.

It’s AAC Awareness Month! AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) is more than just high tech devices like the one depicted here. It includes picture books/cards, sign language, writing it down, Spelling to Communicate - basically anything that conveys a message that is not speech.

And anyone can use it! If you are non-speaking, unreliably speaking, not-yet speaking, or just find words hard sometimes, then AAC is for you. There is no “non-speaking enough” threshold you have to meet - if it makes your life easier, go ahead and use it.

AAC is empowering. People routinely talk about autistic kids and adults like they’re not even in the room, even when they CAN speak. (Which, if you’re someone who does this, STOP IT RIGHT NOW.) This parent could have assured this asshole professional person that her son could understand til they were blue in the face, and they wouldn’t have been believed if he hadn’t been able to communicate it for himself.

Communication is a right. Don’t let anyone try to discourage AAC on the basis of it hindering speech or “being the easy way out” or whatever other nonsense they come up with. AAC *enhances* communication, and everyone deserves the ability to communicate their needs, tell you their thoughts and feelings, share their hopes and dreams, and tell people to fuck off when needed. 😉

(Image description in Alt Text.)

#autism #autistic #actually autistic #aac #aac awareness month #nonspeaking #nonspeakingdoesnotequalnonthinking #autistic funny

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bunny584 · 2 months

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A Girl with No Name

A/N: This one shot POURED out of me. All because of this incredible art by @chu-cho Thank you for creating this masterpiece. Hope I can do your art justice.

Ok, let me set the scene. Euphoria, SKINS, and Degrassi procreated in the basement of Kappa Alpha. Keg to the right. A designer tray of substances to the left. The boys in the middle. And you…you crack the whi— what? Who said that?

CW: Frat AU, implied substance use, mature 18+, MDNI

‘Ain’t a pill that I didn’t take’

Lyrics that feel too familiar tread water between Suguru’s ears. They glide along his skin. Which feels like silk, by the way.

Silk.

Who ever made that is a Nobel laureate.

‘Cause Imma sleep when I R.I.P.’

Euphoria.

Who chose the lights?

They’re vivid. Swarming. Like the walls are a tile dance floor. Yeah. Light picker deserves a Nobel too.

“You are so fucked right now.” His best friend’s sharp ass voice dices his lucid thoughts to smithereens.

“Shut up, Satoru.” He’s not wrong.

“We took the same shit.” Suguru perches on the solo cup ridden kitchen island. Sitting is good.

“Plus, I’m bigger than you.”

“If you wanna compare dicks just say so.” Satoru sneers, he’s cockier when inebriated.

In any other instance when Suguru is of sound mind, Satoru would’ve caught a jab to the chest. But two reasons why that can’t happen.

One, he’s currently tripping balls.

Two, you just walked in.

Like you own the house.

Maneuvering your body around the active pong table. Slipping past the chatty women gawking in their direction. Gearing for attack. Shifty and nervous, but the vodka cranberry is courage elixir.

The boys have about 45 seconds to engage with said women or divert.

But you are currently leaning over the counter reaching for a shot glass well out of your zip code. A little red dress on. All curves, no brakes. With an ass that could make anyone believe in God.

Sorry, girls. Tonight, they are going to divert.

Suguru catches Satoru’s heady gaze. No words needed. They share instincts. The boys have been in stride since the day they met.

They saunter over to the counter you’re mounting. An easy reach for them both.

“Didn’t realize your name was on the lease, princess.”

Satoru plucks the double shot glass down from Mount Everest. Handing it over between two fingers.

Still propped up on the counter with one knee, you peer down at them both. Letting the white noise of utter disinhibition drape the space between you.

Suguru planned on softening Satoru’s blow, but then you smile.

Cavalier and gorgeous.

Like it’s a golden ticket into spaces you don’t belong in.

The answer to questions people don’t realize need asking.

The cure for everything.

And right now? It is. The cure.

Suguru stands stupefied as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Thank God his hands still know what to do. They snake around your tapered waist and pull you to solid ground.

Speak, dumbass.

“You didn’t? It’s in the fine print.” Your voice beats him to it. And is fucking dessert.

Bad for you. Horrible for you. But good in the way self-indulgence is.

You take your shot glass (really, anything in the house is yours if you want it). And steer away to the refrigerator.

Your absence jumpstarts Suguru’s out-of-commission brain.

“Excuse him, he was raised by monkeys. Can I help you find something?”

Suguru and Satoru reposition themselves behind you while you rummage. Bent over at the waist. Head nearly submerged in the pull out freezer.

Are you doing this on purpose?

Are you trying to be a cocktease?

Satoru isn’t even attempting to stop eye-fucking you.

Suguru pulls his tongue ring in and out of his teeth. Anything to stop ruminating on the melody of sounds that’ll fill the room when his hips slam into your ass repeatedly.

“There it is,” you stand back to your full height. Triumphant. Jack Daniels in hand.

Your eyes are pools of quicksand. Why else would Suguru’s mouth feel more stuck than his feet?

“You’re a whiskey, kind of girl?” Satoru smirks, amused at your vice choice.

Again, the boys follow your movements like two expertly trained German Shepards. Flanking you when you settle at the corner of the island. Meticulously over-pouring your first double shot.

“I’m a good time kind of girl.” The way your slender neck tilts back is immoral. Throating the dark liquid like water.

…what else can that throat handle?

“Okay, good time girl wh—“

“Listen.” You snip Satoru’s snide remark at its base. Leaving both of them silent. Watching. Waiting.

“Brad,” you pointedly look at Suguru.

“And Chad,” eyes dagger into Satoru.

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I’m not interested in talking.”

The back of your hand swipes against your full lips. And Suguru can’t seem to pull his eyes off of them.

Satoru, after a moment of stunned silence, lets out his laugh. The one that means you’ve won his undivided attention for the night.

“Close, but no cigar baby. Try again.” Satoru leans onto his forearms. Tilting his intoxicated gaze up at you.

“Right idea, though.” Suguru chimes in. Tongue finally deciding to work.

“Ahh, I hear you loud and clear.” You retort, golden-ticket smile back on your face.

Your nose wrinkles in feigned concentration and Suguru nearly passes out.

Are you really this hot? Or is he just that blasted?

“Preppy,” your hand cups Satoru’s face. And his Adam’s Apple bobs deeply.

Good, Satoru is feeling this as hard as he is.

“And Edgy.” Suguru gawks at the way your lips hang open after your snarky guess at his name leaves your mouth.

Satoru’s wolfish chuckle is what re-tethers Suguru to this dimension. How the fuck is he keeping up with you right now?

“No, no. I got it.” You pipe up.

Placing one hand over each of theirs. Suguru greedily intertwines his long fingers between your petite ones.

“Thunder.” You squeeze Suguru’s hand and his soul nearly leaks out of his dick.

“And Lightening.”

Cotton candy dusts Satoru’s nose to his ears when you look up at him. Suguru can see the vulgar scenarios on cinematic repeat in his best friend’s mind.

And it’s tame compared to the ways Suguru wants to disrespect you.

“We can work with that.” Suguru flashes a smile of his own. Purposefully keeping his tongue ring out of your view.

“And what can we call you?” Satoru probes. Zeroed in because no one else in the room exists.

Your hands return back to your side, and Suguru misses your warmth immediately.

“No name.”

Flippant. Lighthearted like what you said was normal.

“What was that?” Satoru spurts out. Saliva bubbling in his half open mouth.

You glide away from the kitchen. Into the den with bodies colliding. Walls thrumming. Lights strobing.

Delicate hands cup around your mouth. Turning back to face your new guard dogs.

“Not here to talk, boys!”

The three of you are interwined at the center of the crowded room in seconds.

But time is warped.

Because Suguru is traversing Death Zone altitude on the mountain. And Satoru is swimming at Abyssal Zone depth in the ocean.

You are the 8th cardinal sin.

You writhe and undulate your curves in and out of their grasp. Gripping onto Satoru’s neck, strumming his undercut when he’s facing you. Winding your hips against Suguru’s crotch when he’s behind you.

Suguru’s cock has never been this hard, he’s half worried it could snap in half. Hissing against your neck. Groaning behind your ear. So goddamn grateful for the music drowning out his desperation.

But his skin is on fire. He can feel every vessel pulsate.

You are not a want.

You are a need.

“Need you.” Suguru gruffs in your ear. Flickering up to Satoru, who is mirroring his hooded gaze.

Suguru watches your pretty hand trail down Satoru’s chest. Satoru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. Apt nickname you chose for him, because there are lightening bolts in his eyes.

“Take me upstairs,” you whisper back, tilting up to capture Suguru in your web.

And he is so captured. So entangled.

The boys lead you to Suguru’s bedroom in the frat house. Even though the walk felt like miles, exactly no time passes when you three close the door behind you.

Suguru’s lips magnet to yours. Insatiable in the way he sucks and pulls on your lips. Tongue tasting every corner of your sweet mouth.

Satoru drops his head to the crook of your neck. Sucking bruises. Tracing his large grasp up and underneath your dress. No time or room for manners with how his cock is tenting against its weak restraints.

“So eager, boys.” You giggle in between their hungry kisses.

And you’re right.

It’s embarrassing, their display right now.

But neither one of them have the capacity to stop.

And hold it together.

And lead. Like they both are used to.

“Sorry,” Satoru grunts into the feminine slope of your neck. You let out an airy laugh when he starts to dry hump you. Tickling both of their incapable brains.

You know Satoru is so far gone.

And Suguru is trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity but his cock simply won’t let him. Not the way it’s drenching his sweats with need.

“Take these off.” Melodic instructions fill Satoru and Suguru’s ears the minute you pull away from Suguru’s kiss. Your index finger hooked on both hems.

As if your voice is a Pavlovian trigger, the boys step out of their pants and boxers.

Rock hard. Desperate. Leaking.

Your personal drones.

Suguru can’t swallow the whimper that collides with Satoru’s whine when your hands drop to stroke both of them at the same time. Flickering your eyes between your two toys. Proud of the way their cocks are twitching and pumping beads of precum into your hands.

“God, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, princess.”

Satoru and Suguru are dizzy with heat.

Just in time for you to drop to your knees. Dragging your closed, lipsticked lips along Suguru’s up curve.

“Please,” Suguru whispers.

You’re evil.

And you ignore him. Dragging your soft, warm hand up the length of his shaft. Interjecting butterfly kisses in between. Working Satoru’s length in your other hand. Drawing punched out moans from the boys. Chests heaving. Clipped breaths. Pitiful.

“On your knees, Lightning.” You beckon Satoru, while teasing his counterpart.

Satoru doesn’t hesitate for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Propped on his knees, he stares into the side of your face. Awaiting further instruction.

“Kiss me,” you demand, circling your lips around Suguru’s sensitive tip for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss.

Satoru’s eyes widen. Your words startle the breath out of him.

The lights are dim but Suguru doesn’t miss the blossoming cherry red flush. Spreading along his toned shoulders.

Your wet lips dragging along his swollen cockhead pulls Suguru’s eyes away from his celestial best friend.

“Mmmgh f..fuck baby,” Suguru chokes out at your slow, mean ministrations.

“Don’t be shy, Lightening.” Your tongue tickles his lead pipe with every spoken word around his girth.

Suguru’s eyes fall to your hand. Now working its way up Satoru’s length. His core involuntarily curls into your sudden touch. Gossamer thin whine tumbling out of his lips. Suguru catches the way Satoru digs his fingernails into his milky skin.

And his cock twitches against your lips at the sight.

“Kiss me,” You beckon Satoru again, dragging your tongue up Suguru’s length.

“I—I…“ Satoru stammers. Hips stuttering against your fist. Static fills Suguru’s head.

He’s never seen him this docile. This pliant. It’s a mind fuck.

No, no.

The way Satoru pulls his eyes up to meet his gaze in that moment is a mind fuck.

Is he hallucinating?

It’s like Suguru is seeing Satoru for the first time.

Instead of being side by side, he’s across the street. Catching a glimpse of a God. Walking amongst men.

Satoru’s expression has earned permanence in his brain. Snowy halo of hair. Long, palatial lashes fanning the Aegean Sea in his eyes. A mosaic of lust, desire, a little shame.

Seeking permission.

Seeking approval.

He is otherworldly.

Vulnerable and soft. On his knees. Needy. It makes Suguru want to ram his cock past those pouty, swollen lips.

But..but that’s wrong. Right?

They’re best friends. Fucking soulmates. They don’t..they don’t do that.

But the way he’s pouting.

God.

Glassy eyed and helplessly turned on. Rutting his hips into your hand.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Suguru mutters. A surge of his arousal landing on your tongue. Eliciting a breathy giggle in response.

Followed by an out of body experience for the next few minutes.

Suguru’s hand wires into Satoru’s cloud soft locks. Gentle grasp between the slender webspaces.

“So pretty.” He rasps through the nails in his throat.

Satoru’s pupils blow out at the praise. All but purring into his touch. Suguru barely applies any force and Satoru crashes his lips onto yours with Suguru’s thick head in between.

Filthy.

Nasty dirty vulgar sounds fill the room. Suguru’s constant stream of precum dripping onto your tongue, Satoru’s tongue. Raining down on your puffy, full tits.

You two exploring each other’s lips.

Satoru’s angry length, squelching against your hand.

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

“Such a good boy.”

Your dulcet voice is a tornado decimating Suguru’s brain. He has to blink a few times to realize that the praise wasn’t meant for him.

It was directed at Satoru.

Who is desperately — eagerly — throating Suguru’s dick. Nose flaring. Diamond tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. Unintelligible garbles dribbling out the corners of his mouth.

“Sa—Satoru, mmgh, god shit, shit.” Suguru’s hips take a cruel pace down his Person’s throat.

“Mmm, Satoru.” You murmur into his ear. Tasting your new discovery.

“Look how much Thunder likes fucking that mouth of yours.”

Satoru’s tears splash against Suguru’s sex. But he opens his throat anyway. Swallowing his rod. Filthy bulge in the column of his throat.

“Ahh, god..baby..” Suguru huffs when your devilish little hands tug at a palm full of his hair.

When did you get next to him?

Doesn’t matter.

Yet another natural disaster destroys Suguru’s brain when you push your tongue back into his mouth. While he violates Satoru’s mouth.

The wire in Suguru’s stomach coils. Lava surges through every vessel in his body. Groin welling with a deep, carnal pressure. Everything feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, oh god fuck. I’m I—g—“

“Cum for me, baby.”

You kiss your hushed command into Suguru’s mouth. His hips come to a screeching halt. Both hands down in Satoru’s hair, grazing along his undercut.

Suguru tilts his chin to the ceiling. Thick loose mane tickling his mid back. Vision completely dark. He has no idea if he’s still in Satoru’s mouth. Or where his cum is landing. All he knows is death by pleasure right now.

You press your moist lips into Suguru’s neck.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sweet words reverberate against Suguru’s skin.

His head slowly comes back to earth. And just as his eyes pull back open — a shudder and blinding light assaults his vision. Up close.

“Woah, what the hell?”

Suguru is met with a Polaroid camera. Printing evidence of his nirvana. His brows crawl together defensively.

“What do you—“

“Relax, thunder.” You coo with that smile that’s decadent, beautiful poison.

You step over a dazed Satoru. Still on his knees. Lazily stroking up his neglected hard cock.

Suguru’s eyes track you to his bed. You place the developing film on the nightstand.

“These are for your eyes only.”

“I don’t mind.” Satoru huffs. Rising to his feet. Deep within your trance. You could’ve asked him to cut off an arm and he’d offer you both.

Satoru would follow you into Hell if you demanded it.

Suguru would too.

“Boys, come.” You curl your finger at them. And pairs of feet move.

“Thunder, why don’t you put that tongue ring to good use. While I take care of pretty little Satoru.”

His name on your lips snaps something buried in his soul. Satoru steps to the head of the bed. Leaning against the wall. Cock heavy with his seed. A string of arousal hanging low from his tip.

You make a dramatic show to catch Satoru’s leaking string of cum before it wastes on Suguru’s sheets.

“You’re fucking filthy, princess.” Satoru hisses. He can’t remember the last time he’s blinked the whole night.

You smile around his bulbous tip, then pull him into your warm heat in one go.

And fuck, Satoru can feel you sucking through to his throat.

His whimpers sound so pathetic in his ears. But he is so lust-drunk he couldn’t care less.

One look down and he sees his best friend whining underneath your precious cunt. As you circle your hips around Suguru’s metal-clad tongue. Taking your pleasure directly from his mouth.

Suguru’s half hard sex pulsates against his perfectly toned abs. Satoru has to look away. His orgasm threatening to come too soon.

“Mmmnggh, so good with your tongue, Thunder.” You gurgle around Satoru’s length.

Arousal flavored saliva driveling down your chin. The sensation drives Satoru to piston his hips until his tip abuses the limit of your dainty throat.

You shouldn’t have any space to breathe, much less talk.

“Pl-please. Suguru. Name’s Suguru.”

“Say his name baby.” Satoru’s order is low. Raptorial. Hips bucking wildly into your mouth. Heat crashing into his groin.

He’s so close. He’s—

“S-Suguru.”

And Satoru dives off your cliff edge. Hearing his Person’s name tumble out of your mouth and around his cock snapped his self-control in half.

Ropes off thick, warm heat spill out the side of your mouth. Staining your bunched up dress, the sheets and everything in between.

“S-so close,” you huff, humping Suguru’s tongue more aggressively.

A familiar camera shudder and solar bright light fans your outstretched neck. Capturing your cum-stained ascension.

You flash Satoru a knowing smirk. Another beam of light aimed in his face before he tosses your camera off to the side.

Satoru crashes his lips into yours. Eager to taste himself off your mouth.

Your bodies move in perfect tandem. Satoru kisses your peak from your lips while Suguru coaxes your wet orgasm onto his tongue. Your high drenches Suguru and the sheets around him.

The three of you piece yourselves together. Completely plaited within each other’s warm, moist limbs. Basking in the serotonin showers misting you three in post-coital bliss.

No one remembers, but you wish each other sweet dreams before the fog settles. And the night re-claims you to sleep.

——

Sunlight is downright offensive.

Suguru forces his heavy lids open.

7: 43 AM

Fucking, hell.

A freight train is currently doing laps in Suguru’s mind. He flickers around the room. Haphazard clothes. Strewn socks. Satoru in Suguru’s 06 hockey jersey. Long limbs nearly dangling off the other side of his bed.

Suguru glances down, somehow dressed only in Satoru’s black sweats

There’s a tiny sliver of space between their sodden bodies. Where you must’ve slept.

Right.

You.

Heaven’s fallen angel.

You used to be God’s favorite. No way you still are.

Not with how fucking sinful you looked in that red dress.

Snapping polaroids.

Taking their souls for play.

Then having the audacity to leave them on the nightstand when you were through.

Suguru met The Devil last night.

And she was…exquisite.

“Fuck, my head.” Satoru groans, rolling over to face his dark-haired soulmate.

Suguru watches his eyes flutter open. And something within him catches.

How has he not noticed how beautiful this boy is before?

“Here,” A glass of ice water, still sweating from condensation is waiting on Suguru’s nightstand. He takes a long sip before passing the lifeblood to Satoru.

Satoru briefly meets Suguru’s gaze. Before averting, pretty mulberry blush flooding his face.

“Was last night…real?” Satoru asks after an extended sip.

Suguru meets his question with silence. Preoccupied with picture proof.

Three polaroids neatly arranged on the nightstand.

The first one is of Suguru. Hair moused, framing his intoxicated gaze. Remnants of his orgasm oozing from the still shot. Lips puffy and abused. Cheeks flushed. Suguru can barely recognize the man in the photo.

His eyes dance to the cursive label at the bottom:

Thunder

Alias: “Suguru”

A wry chuckle escapes his lips. He passes his photo to Satoru.

The next polaroid is of his Person. Post orgasm haze heavy in his eyes. He managed to get his 10,000-kilowatt smile perfectly in the selfie. Also flushed. Also completely debauched. The blue in his eyes reflected nearly translucent.

He’s a fucking masterpiece, that boy.

Suguru knows what to expect at the bottom of Satoru’s polaroid:

Lightening

Alias: “Satoru”

“Shit man, these are amazing.” Satoru murmurs, intently studying Suguru’s polaroid. Absentmindedly accepting his.

“They are.” Suguru agrees, unknowingly holding his breath while pulling your polaroid into view.

And of course.

It’s blurry.

The only thing in focus is your graceful, arched neck, specks of Satoru’s finish glistening on your skin. Merlot red dress, pulled far below your breasts. Only thing pictured is the apex of your cleavage. Leaving Suguru’s mind to spiral into lucid memory of the rest of your silhouette.

“Who…was that?” Satoru muses. Eyes now on the ceiling. Undoubtedly having the exact same swarm of flashbacks flood his mind.

Suguru rolls your Polaroid between his index and long finger. The bottom of the photo reading:

No Name

A lazy smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

You are something else.

Supernatural, almost.

“She’s a girl with no name.”

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months

Note

Domestic fluffy things you say? I’m here to hopefully help with that!

Can we get some cuddling hcs with the Lin Kuei trio? For example are they big on cuddling, favorite cuddle position, how is it like cuddling with them, ext. Just a lil idea I had and thought was cute and simple and classic also I hope you have a better day :)

Tomas Vrbada

Is MASSIVE on cuddling.

He loves it, lives for it, craves it. Cuddling to Tomas is therapeutic and gets his mind off of things that would normally disrupt his ability to get proper sleep.

It helps ground him and redirects his mind to focus on you and how your presence gives him comfort, reassured him of his insecurities and daily stresses, bringing him into a more relaxed state.

His top 3 would have to be;

Honeymoon cuddle

Sweetheart cradle

Good old fashion spooning

They’re all very self explanatory so I ain’t going to go into details. The man just likes holding you okay?

Cuddling either Tomas is bliss. Utter bliss.

He made you forget about everything that had ever concerned you, everything that had caused you pain, fear, anger, despair. He made you believe that everything was alright because you were within his loving embrace and that nothing else should matter.

Even his evened out breathing made you feel calm as it focused your mind onto his breaths, reminding you that lying beneath you was a living, breathing man who’d do anything you could ever possibly ask for and request for nothing in return. Tomas heart was too kind for most people, even you didn’t feel deserving of something so pure and beautiful despite everything he’s seen and done in the past, you were surprised that such a man still exists in this day and age.

So as a solemn vow, you swore to have this every night, not just for you but for Tomas too, where the both of you would be able to shed the worries and daily stresses. Only to eventually forget all about them as you fortified yourselves within the comforting arms of the other; Sleeping more peacefully than either of you had in ages.

Bi-Han

Isn’t massive on cuddling, he doesn’t like anything that might portray him as weak or soft in the slightest.

A mindset he’s developed overtime, repressing any and all childish wants and desires he might’ve had at the earliest convenience. Not wanting any distractions on his road to power. Plus he’s cold in more ways than one because like Kuai Liang, due to his body temperature, it makes something seemingly easy as cuddling difficult all of a sudden.

Even if you did ask hypothetically what his favourite cuddling positions, Bi-Han would probably say ones that requires the least amount of contact on his end:

Back to back - so he can feel that you’re still there.

Back cuddles- you’re the one cuddling up against that broad back of his.

Shoulder to shoulder - same reason as back to back; knowing that you’re still with him.

Cuddling Bi-Han is…something and I don’t mean this negativity but it’s Bi-Han, what else can I say other than cold, rigid, and a little awkward? The man is on guard even in his sleep and cuddling him the way you do doesn’t necessarily help.

Besides that there’s some semblance of companionship when you press your back into his own. It felt as though you had each made a nonverbal pact to have each other’s back in your most vulnerable states; Something that naturally comes with a sense of trust being put in the other and Bi-Han isn’t one to trust blindly.

Cuddling Bi-Han maybe awkward and a little finicky due to the walls this man had put up in order to protect himself from everyone else, he oddly enough made you feel safe, he made you feel guarded and warm, which was weird considering how abnormally cold he was in every possible way. Yet you knew he held honour- or his version of it at least- highly, so you didn’t feel like you’d have to second guess his every actions because that wasn’t the type of man Bi-Han was…

Even though cuddling him was obviously something he wasn’t attuned to, he nonetheless made you feel regarded in his own special way.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang runs extremely warm, which could be considered overwhelming or perfect depending on the type of person you are, so whilst he likes contact; he likes to keep it minimal unless told otherwise.

He prioritises your comfortability over his own and understands that his abnormally body heat can be a bit too much at times. Outside of that he’s more than accepting of cuddling.

Kuai Liang’s top 3 favourite cuddling positions would have to be ones that were less on the physical context but unlike Bi-Han, it typically ends up with him cuddling you in some form of him protecting you:

Leg hug- incase you get overwhelmed by his body heat and need space but also wanting to keep touching some part him.

Face to face - this one’s a personal favourite of his because he loves waking up and falling asleep to your face.

Chest rest -the one where your heads on his chest and he’s keeping you in place with his arms.

Cuddling Kuai Liang is warm and secure because when you’re in his arms, feeling his warmth deep into you just as his arms tightened their grip, you’ve never felt more protected in your life then you did in Kuai Liang’s hold.

You never had to worry about being hurt, especially when Kuai Liang was there to shield you from all possible forms of harm; nor the way he always had his back facing towards the door so that if something were to happen then he was able to keep you safe with his body.

It was his duty to protect you, as he would often say whenever you asked him why this was.

You couldn’t act as though his declaration didn’t have your heart melting into a puddle.

So now you just allow his warmth to consume you like a thick, warm, weighted blanket that blocked out any and all cold that threatened to try and get to you; all the while you snuggled closer into him because despite every last part of you touching every last part of him wasn’t enough, you needed to be even closer to him. You wanted your souls to touch and feel the presence of the other but since you physically couldn’t do that, you settled for forehead touches instead. It was just as intimate after all.

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

i cannot stop thinking about oblivious reader and remus where she’s talking about how she’s never been with anyone before bc no one likes her so remus is like i like you!! but she’s like haha ok yeah bc we are friends!! and he has to be like no i like you but she just thinks he’s taking piss but he’s actually being real with her i’m so 🤧

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: mention of alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

“Ugh, they’re disgusting.” You take a sip of your drink, looking at James and Lily over the rim of your cup. Lily’s eating an ice cream sandwich she’d found in Sirius’ freezer, offering James bites while he traces lines between her freckles with his pinkie. “I want to be them so badly.”

Remus hums. It’s the tail end of one of Sirius’ parties (or his soirees, as he insists upon calling them), and the atmosphere is heavy with a pleasant lethargy. The music is still playing from his record player, some slowish, bass-heavy rock, but most everyone has cleared out, and Sirius himself has fallen asleep on the opposite side of the couch from Lily and James, his mouth hanging open.

“I wonder what it’s like to be in love,” you sigh. Remus turns to you, catching the longing in your look just before you hide it away.

“You’ve never been in love?” he asks you.

You give him a funny look. “No.” You shrug. “I’ve never dated anyone before.”

Remus hadn’t known that. He has to remind himself, again, that he doesn’t know all that much about you. You’re new to their little group, a coworker of Lily’s that she’d started bringing around recently. Remus doesn’t know you very well, but he’s found the learning process surprisingly enjoyable. He likes being around you.

“How’s that?” It slips out before he can think it through, brash and unlike him. He backpedals immediately. “Sorry, that was rude, I only meant that I’m a bit surprised. You don’t have to answer.”

“No, it’s okay.” You give him a smile, infinite in your benevolence. “People just don’t seem to think of me that way. No one’s ever liked me.”

You sound so casual about it, but Remus can’t help but think that must not be a nice way to think of yourself. He’s sure you’ve been considered romantically by plenty of people, even if they never had the guts to tell you about it. You’re lovely. You deserve to know it.

He musters his courage. “I like you.”

You laugh, and he thinks Sirius is going to have to mop his self-esteem up off the floor tomorrow morning as part of his party cleanup.

“Thanks,” you say, “but you don’t count.”

Why the hell not?

“I mean, I’m glad you don’t mind me,” you go on, taking another sip of your drink, “but it’s different when you’re friends. I meant that nobody’s ever liked me, like, romantically.”

You go a bit shy at the last word, self-consciousness pulling your shoulders almost imperceptibly upwards. Remus forgives your oversight instantly.

“Do you really think it’s so unlikely that anyone could like you romantically?” he asks, refusing to lower his gaze even when you shrink a bit at the question. “You’re a catch, love, trust me.”

You shake your head and smile, frustratingly good-natured. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to date me.”

“Have to?” Remus’ voice rises incredulously. He glances towards James and Lily on the couch, lowering it. “I would love to.”

“Ha ha,” you monotone, rolling your eyes and raising your cup to your lips.

He can’t believe you think he’d joke about this. He can’t figure out what’s more cruel, the way you keep inadvertently shooting him down or the fact that you seem so heart-wrenchingly prepared to be made fun of. “I mean it.” Remus lets his voice drop into a more genuine register, and something in your look softens. “I would date you. I want to, if you do. You’re far from impossible to like.”

Your lips actually part in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I…” He looks over at the couch, but James and Lily are effectively as dead to the world as Sirius, and at the volume you’re both speaking he doubts they’d be able to hear you over the music anyway. “I think you’re really lovely. I’ve been meaning to do something about it, I just…I didn’t know how. But would you want to?”

“To go on a date?” you ask, looking a bit dazed. Remus smiles, but before he can confirm you laugh at yourself, the sound rich and sweet as dark chocolate. “Sorry, that might be a stupid question. I haven’t done this before.”

“I can’t believe that.” He shakes his head, astounded. For a girl like you to never get asked out? Well, it makes things a bit easier for him, jealousy-wise, but objectively it’s criminal. Remus supposes he’ll have to make up for it himself. “But yeah, I’d like to go on a date.”

You nod, smile sticking on your face. “Me too. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, finding that your smile seems to have stuck to him too. “Tomorrow, maybe? We could go for coffee.” He looks out the window behind you, where a faint line of gold on the horizon shows promise of sunrise. “I think we’ll both be needing it.”

You laugh again. Remus decides that he likes it better than any song Sirius has played all night. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Remus.”

He’s not sure what you’re thanking him for. He’s the one who gets to take you to coffee tomorrow. He ought to be thanking you.

1K notes · View notes

bunnyhugs77 · 10 months

Text

City Seven

Pairing: Jungkook x Waitress! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: reader is kind of unfiltered, judgy! reader, quiet! jungkook, pierced! jungkook, inspired by the seven mv, judging a book by its cover, obessed! jungkook, ft jimin, reader eats her words, jungkook is a little cocky.

Other Content

Jungkook is filthy and a little mean, big dick! jungkook, dom! jungkook, strength kink, unprotected sex (don’t even), jungkook has a high sex drive, brat tamer! jungkook?, hair pulling.

»»——��—-　★　————-««

“Y/n!” Laura practically shouts your name as she walked into the bustling kitchen where you collected three main courses, balancing two on your palms and the last one on your forearm.

You’d become pretty competent as a waitress after being one for the last three years, balancing the meals and listening to Laura was an easy feat. “What?” You lean in to hear her clearly as the sound of clanging pots and yelled orders were swirling in the air.

“Let me take this table from you, serve table 4.” Your brows furrowed as you felt Laura help herself to take the plates from you. “W-what are you doing?” You stop her from taking the last plate from you, curious to know what she was up to.

“Just trust me. They ordered two old fashions, now go!” She says as if she was bursting with anticipation. You let her take the last plate from you, a little disappointed because the family you were serving seemed like they were going to leave a good tip but you trusted Laura. Sort of.

Once you got hold of the two alcoholic beverages you leaned into the swinging door with your hip and walked through heading to table 4, and once you spotted Jimin sitting there you knew something was up.

“Two old fashions.” You smile, placing them down gently while making sure nothing spilled. You put Jimin’s down first and for the first time made eye contact with the unfamiliar brunette.

He smiles at you. “Y/n, this is my friend, Jungkook.” You smile back to be polite. “It’s nice to meet you.” Your expression showed kindness but in your heart, you were more than ready to kill Laura.

She was always trying to hook you up with someone while on the job. Either way, he wasn’t really your type, he seems too quiet and soft-spoken. Your type was the kind of guy that was more outgoing and could take control.

Before you could ask the two what they wanted to order you felt a light grip on your bicep tugging you away near the bathrooms. “Laura! What are you doing? I’m trying to do my job.” You weren’t sure if you had said those words out loud based on the way she completely disregarded your words and replaced them with her own.

“He’s cute right?” She inquires and your brows furrow almost immediately at her jumpiness. “Who?” You were playing dumb and it was obvious.

Laura deadpans. “You know who I’m talking about. Jungkook, obviously. He’s cute right?” Her smile creeps its way back onto her face as she speaks but you back away from her leaning against the wall that you had no idea Jungkook was listening through.

“I mean, yeah sure but he looks too..” Jungkook’s brow raises as he waited for you to find the words. “nice.” You finish. “He looks like he’s a nice guy, y’know? The kind that holds the door and cries when he comes.” Both his and Laura’s jaws drop in astonishment. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Laura covers her mouth giggling with a snort but she soon starts to pout.

“You really don’t think he’s cute?” She asks again and you groan. Laura was insufferable, she just did not know when to give up. “I never said that. Maybe in the country, he’s a 10, but here, he’s a city 7 at best.” Jungkook had heard enough and made his way back to his seat.

Never in his entire life had he been ranked anything below a 10, he’s even scored a few 12s but a city 7? How could you? He knew he was a 10. He deserves a 10. Not to mention your little comment about him crying when he comes; he was going to make sure you ate your words.

He made sure to lay it on thick for the rest of the night. Dark stares and suggestive comments, so much so that Jimin had to excuse himself twice just to give you both privacy.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not this city 7 was starting to grow on you. He had a sarcastic sense of humour paired with an enchanting smile. You supposed you could give him a chance.

One chance was all he needed.

3 weeks and two dates later the two of you found yourselves stumbling into your apartment, with Jungkook kissing you desperately as you both kicked your shoes off and he shrugged off his jacket all while you led him to the bedroom but you paused in your steps at the revelation of his sleeve of tattoos.

you had no idea these were hiding beneath his denim jackets and turtlenecks. if you’d known about the tattoos and the bulging muscles that were covered up so well, you never would’ve called him a 7. He’s a total 10, and he was about to prove it to you.

“W-wha-” you loosely pointed your finger to his muscular physique as he worked on undoing his belt. he grins wickedly as he glances up, relishing in the victorious feeling of seeing you go awestruck at the sight of his body.

he steps towards you slowly, the branded waistband of his boxers peeking over his jeans. “what? never seen a few tattoos before?” he smiles in that same pleasing way he always does and it irks you, because you know he knows what he’s doing.

all this time you’ve been underestimating him. “what-- when, how- “ he gently cups your face and whispers against your lips, “You ask too many questions.” that was the last thing you heard before his lips were on yours again.

The kiss was unlike any of the tender and sweet ones from before. this one was hungry, messy and bordering animalistic. The way his tongue worked with yours in an erotic harmony made you forget all about your presumptions of him when you first met him. he may be quiet but he most certainly wasn’t shy, especially not now.

he laid you down on the bed and he kissed all over your body. abusing your sweet spot that was below your ear. the sounds of your heavy breathing that slowly but surely morphed into breathy moans were only inflating his ego. if he could get you this desperate just from his mouth he knew he could absolutely ruin you with his cock.

for you on the other hand the last 45 minutes seem to have been a blur. One minute you and jungkook were out at the bar listening to the jazz band fill the room with an undeniably sensual ambience. you were feeling a bit bold and let your heel run up the inseam of his pants under the table.

and he’d warned you to stop since you were in public but you were in a defiant mood and continued anyways. pressing down his cock with the tip of your stilettos watching his accessorized fist ball up the tablecloth in an attempt to bite back his groan. within seconds you felt his grip around your ankle and push your foot down before abruptly standing up.

not without discreetly adjusting himself in his slacks but of course you noticed it. “Get up. We’re leaving.” he orders but you pouted, “but I wanted to listen to the music.” The look he gave you was like none other he’d seen before. you were used to pushing his buttons, it was just in your nature to piss him off but he usually didn’t care much or if he did he didn’t show it.

“Now.” you roll your eyes and followed him out of the bar.

It's thanks to your previous behaviour that jungkook had decided to edge you twice on his fingers and tongue. you were squirming and insufferable forcing him to pin your thighs down with his arms as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.

“ju-jungkook! please-” you begged, refusing to look at the man between your legs, staring up at the tear-blurred ceiling instead. “Please what? What do you want?” He’s an evil man for asking you such a question and cutting you off with the works of his tongue once again leading you to scream out.

you sounded like sin, wrapped in a body that was clearly shaped by the gods above and gifted to him personally. “let me cum--please!” He pulls away from you right when he felt you were on the edge again, pushing down on your legs as he felt you begin to thrash around.

“stay still princess, or I won’t let you cum.” the name was doing you wonders and you swore you could see stars. “please, I’ve been good.” and jungkook just has to laugh, because what a fucking liar you are. “Really? Do you think teasing me out in public is being good? Why should I let you cum hm? Aren’t I just a City 7? Only 10′s can make you cum right?”

your eyes shot open wide and for the first time you looked down at him in shock, “y-you heard me-” he didn’t give you the chance to respond before he was abusing your clit with his tongue bringing you over the edge so quickly your body could hardly process it. you came with the scream of his name.

“Look who’s crying when they cum.” he mocks you, throwing your own words back in your face.

Without a break, you were being manhandled and flipped over onto your stomach as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. your back arching at the intrusion of the swollen head of his cock pushing between your folds. jungkook had to brace himself as he thrust inside your soaked cunt.

a deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling he’d been searching for for weeks. He’s dreamt about this moment for weeks, way before you even knew who he was. When he’d seen pictures of you and Jimin at Laura’s place he knew he had to have you.

“ooh fuck!” you moan once jungkook bottomed out, you hadn’t realized just how thick he was until you felt his cock split you open all around “yeah, you like that?” You nod repeatedly, unable to speak. Your arms were feeling weak and soon your head was flush against your pillows.

“Answer me, baby.” he grunts, punctuating his demands with a particularly powerful snap of his hips. one that sent the fat of your ass rippling with each thrust. “yes! fuck! I love it, love your cock, please don’t stop.” you whine loudly taking everything he gave you.

That only encouraged him to absolutely drill into your poor pussy, the sounds of your bare flesh slapping against one another ricocheted off the walls and back into your ears. you had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into with him. you felt yourself inching closer and closer to that ecstasy, you were so close you could taste and jungkook could most certainly feel it.

the way your walls convulsed around him nearly restricting his range of motion, “Ah shit baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groans next to your ear, the tone of his voice sending you into shock. god you were so close, but jungkook was slowing down. “why-”

“you wanna cum?” he asks you, and you nod as if you were on autopilot. “please,” you beg for the nth time. “Then take it back.” you really tried your best to understand what he was referring to. “Take back what you said about me being a city 7” you hesitated for a minute, regaining enough strength to hold yourself up again, fighting between your bratty nature and your throbbing pussy.

“Okay fine, you can get yourself off.” he shrugs, beginning to pull out but you push your hips back up against his pelvis. “No- no!” he grins at the sound of your objections, resuming his wild pace as though he had never stopped.

he pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, his erratic thrusts never faltering as he did so, “Say it.” he growls in your ear and your eyes roll back as you felt his cock rub against a certain spot within you, “I take it back! You’re a 10, everything about you is a 10, you’re a 10- fuck! please let me cum!” he smiles, satisfied with your words.

“Cum.” you didn’t hold back, you came down with a piercing moan that you’re sure your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow morning, jungkook following closely behind you.

Initially, you’d thought you and Jungkook’s little night would be a one-time thing but he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you, no matter how hard he tried.

His dick begged to see you again, and he made sure he did.

At Jimin’s birthday party, he had you bent over the bathroom counter, he would come over and fuck you against the wall, holding you up steady as ever as he pounded into you. Every second of every day he found a way to be inside you.

That’s how you found yourself tangled up in his sheets the morning after one of the filthiest nights you’d ever experienced with a guy. “Good morning,” you heard Jungkook whisper in the rasp of his morning voice as he kissed your collarbones. Slowly making his way up your neck, “Jungkook, aren’t you tired?”

He shrugs with a foolish grin, “Why would I be? I’ll never get tired of fucking your brains out.” You laugh, “Really? Never?” He shakes his head.

“Seven days a week.”

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babyleostuff · 5 months

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SAYING SOMETHING THEY DIDN'T MEAN IN A FIGHT | PERFORMANCE UNIT

𐙚 JUN

it would take a lot for jun to say something he didn’t mean, especially when it comes to you. he was always wary of what he was saying during fights or quarrels to not say something he’d regret later, but there were times where he was just too tired to think about what he was saying. i think he’d be the quickest out of all of them to apologise, like the second the hurtful words leave his mouth he’s already apologising, he just can’t stand your sad and disappointed expression.

“i’m so sorry, honey. i didn’t mean it, i truly didn’t mean it. i know i can’t make excuses now, i’m so sorry, baby.”

jun started babbling, not even letting you breathe after what he had just said. you wouldn’t lie - his words hurt, especially because jun never raised his voice at you during fights, so yes, you were sad and upset, but at the same time, a part of you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now.

jun’s eyes were wide in panic, and he was holding your hands tightly in his, as if he was scared that you’d run away, which to be honest - you’d do if he didn’t have such a strong hold on you. hearing something so hurtful from the person you loved the most wasn’t easy, you felt betrayed and disappointed by his actions, but you didn’t want him to get so worked up over this either. “jun, baby, calm down.”

“no, i won’t. you have to believe me that i didn’t mean it.” you cupped his face in your hands, so his frantic eyes would focus on you for more than a second. “let’s just talk about it, k’ay?”

jun nodded his head quickly, helping you settle on the couch next to him, where you’d calmly talk about what had just happened (he’d keep on apologising for the rest of the day, even if you said you forgave him).

𐙚 HOSHI

things could get heated with this one really quickly, especially if he was stressed because of work or his schedules. hoshi would never intentionally take out his anger on you, but at the same time i don’t think he’s the best at managing his emotions, especially anger. he’d be so disappointment in himself after, though - like, the moment he says something hurtful (that he of course didn’t mean) he’d blame himself so much, and knowing that he hurt you would break his heart.

no words could describe the disappointment and embarrassment with himself that hoshi felt then. how could he hurt his loved one in such a cruel way? you didn't do anything wrong and he let his words and anger get the best of him, leaving you sobbing quietly in the middle of the living room.

“baby…” he felt like he didn’t deserve to call you that after what he had said, and you definitely looked even more upset hearing the pet name. “why would you say that?” you asked, your voice laced with so much sadness, hoshi felt his own heart breaking. he was sure your crying face would haunt him in his dreams now, but he deserved it.

hoshi knew it’d be for the best to leave you alone for a while now, so you could calm down and collect your thoughts, but he was afraid that if you left now, you wouldn't come back. he wouldn't even realise when his own tears would start running down his cheeks too. “I’m so sorry,” he’d whisper, covering his face in shame.

“i can’t hear you, honey,” you sniffled, wiping your face dry. “i-i’m s-sorry,” he hiccuped between the sobs. at the end, you both would start crying in each other's embrace.

of course you wouldn't forgive him right away, but you didn't want him to worry that you would leave him.

𐙚 MINGHAO

i feel like making minghao mad isn’t that hard, but that doesn’t mean he’d just lash out and take all of his anger on you, especially because he is a person that is good at managing his emotions. things could get really heated because of his pettiness and passive aggressiveness, though. sometimes he wouldn’t think through what he was saying or how he was acting, and how it would affect you.

“wow, minghao,” you muttered, looking at him with disbelief. “is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

when he didn’t answer, you turned on your heel and walked out to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. minghao, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the living room trying to wrap his head around what had just happened - what he had just said to you. the guilt started to catch up to him, his chest filling with crushing pain.

what made minghao feel even worse was that he didn’t react immediately and apologised. he didn’t even realise how much his words had hurt you at that moment, which made him feel like he was the worst boyfriend ever.

he’d give you some time alone, but when bedtime came, he’d softly knock on the door, your favourite snacks on a plate, and your favourite hoodie of his in his hand, and wait for you to open up. then, he’d apologise and have a proper, calm conversation with you. it was rare that you went to bed angry, minghao always made sure you’d make up before falling asleep, because in no universe would he be able to fall asleep knowing you were angry with him.

𐙚 CHAN

chan would never intentionally say anything to hurt you, you were the love of his life and he swore to do anything to keep you happy and safe at all times, so you’d have to get in a really big fight for him to say something hurtful. and honestly it would break his heart seeing your reaction to his words, he just wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. and as much as i don’t think that chan is an insecure person, i think he’d need a lot of reassurance after a fight that you still love him and that you’re not going to leave him.

chan stared in horror as a tear ran down your cheek. “baby, i didn’t… i don’t-” he saw your eyes fill with even more tears and if he only understood what had just happened, he would have immediately hugged you, but the problem was that he himself didn't know what had just happened. how the fuck could words like those even leave his mouth?

“are u going to say anything else?” you asked, sadness filling your voice. "say something chan," but he couldn't, he stood still, he even stopped breathing. shame and embarrassment consumed him completely, he didn't know how he would ever be able to look at himself after saying such nasty words to you.

he would stand and watch as you passed by him to leave the apartment, but he still wouldn't be able to move. when he finally realised that you had left the house and left him, he would just break down and cry in the middle of the room from the feeling of being so helpless. what if you really left him?

he wouldn't try to text or call you because he’d be afraid that all he’d hear would be "we’re over chan, don't call me ever again," and he wouldn't be surprised if you did. he acted like a total jerk.

when it finally started to get dark and you managed to calm yourself down, you went back to your place to calmly talk to your boyfriend, but all you’d find would be chan sleeping on your side of the bed, cuddled into your pillow with dried tears on his cheeks. that night he would be the little spoon, cuddled in your arms.

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blkgirl-writing · 5 months

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The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons

Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)

A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!

Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll

He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him

This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him

Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen

Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his

eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you

It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away

He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."

────⊱⁜⊰────

He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him

That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way

With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace

Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you

Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast

He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you

Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you

“You’re absolutely ravishing.”

And he’d give himself fully to you

Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric

Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it

Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give

Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for

────⊱⁜⊰────

Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking

If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch

If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch

Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass

It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp

But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired

that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy

he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting

────⊱⁜⊰────

One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much

It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures

That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were

Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks

They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds

I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke

────⊱⁜⊰────

Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day

You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust

Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower

For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap

If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies

if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day

When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy

telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"

cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand

it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you

I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts

like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels

"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)

Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home

I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love

but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly

There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in

Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you

He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you

super sweet but makes games feel much longer

────⊱⁜⊰────

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

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nereidprinc3ss · 24 days

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?��

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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ryukatters · 6 months

Text

9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men

pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader

a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔

“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me," your best friend scoffs.

It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean.

"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."

"They're...nice."

He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”

You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."

"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects."

You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated.

He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right.

"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"'s fine."

"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”

You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes.

"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?"

You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance.

"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.

"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks.

"I do," he professes without missing a single beat.

"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?

"Because I've felt it," he hums.

“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?

“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.

“I…”

“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”

That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.

“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”

Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder.

There’s a pregnant pause.

When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain.

“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”

You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours.

“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?

Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.

“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”

Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#suguru at some point probably: alexa play you belong with me (taylor's version)#originally written for g*jo but suguru deserves to be in the spotlight too #kat's writing #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #geto x reader #getou x reader #getou x you #geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru fluff #geto fluff #suguru geto fluff

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