#aside from that i am really proud of how this turned out it was a lot of new things for me. so yay!

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

[nesaluvstherecoms]

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Extreme mental strain, mentions of male masturbation.

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐒𝐒𝐃𝐃

The sound of light solid taps is the only thing that can be heard through the dark office. Y/N’s breathing is soft, steady, calm, as it accompanies the sounds of the electronic pen writing on the screen of her touchpad. The lights of her spacious office are off, letting only the dim light from outside penetrate through the large glass-panel windows behind her and illuminate her surroundings. It’s almost eclipse.

Y/N’s sharp eyes follow the tip of her pen as she writes, summarizing her team’s new report for General Ardmore. The tip of her tail sways softly at her side, draped over the right arm of her expensive, cushioned desk chair. It’s the end of the week and she has been in her office all day, reviewing reports. It has been a good week overall. Her team have been able to eliminate multiple Na’vi groups and take over their territories, allowing the troops to start treating the land to set new grounds for the RDA. Captain Keller, Lieutenant Álvarez and Lieutenant Jones have led multiple units to success, almost flawlessly even in this new environment, Sergeant Davis has adapted his ability to plan attacks in said environment perfectly, and the rest of her team have been outstanding as well. Ardmore is happy, the contractors are happy, and most importantly, her team seems to be happy. She should be proud of them, she really should, and she is. But since day one, she can’t help but feel a weird weight in the bottom of her gut. She tells herself it’s just because she isn’t used to this, and she agrees. It will take some time to adapt, but she’ll get there.

With a final tap, she finishes the report and quickly puts her elegant signature at the bottom. Putting the electronic pen aside, she lets its magnetic side stick to the right side of her touchpad. Y/N pushes her desk chair slightly back and reaches upwards, stretching her elegant body and cracking her spine and tail. With a sigh of relief, she turns her chair around and leans back, resting her body comfortably on the thick cushioned lining. Her eyes immediately fall on the landscape outside, well not much of a landscape but it’s still better than looking at reports for hours. The dull colors outside don’t do much for the eye but Y/N doesn’t mind. Her eyes move to the sky, watching aimlessly as her mind continues its train of thought again. One report however, had not been to her liking. Three high-value prisoners free, a high-value target on the run and five Recombinants dead.

Y/N clenches her jaw. It’s been only two months and already five Recoms have been KIAd. A shiver runs down her spine. Recoms. Just like her. Just like her squad. How? How could this have happened? She watches as the eclipse happens in the sky, blocking the rest of the light rays, plunging the world outside into darkness. Bridgehead turns on its night lights, illuminating the city as some vehicles stop moving, the workers wrapping up their workdays as others come out to start their night shifts.

A knock on her office door brings her out of her thoughts. She turns around to press a button from the control panel on her desk and the door slides open. The comforting figure of her Captain steps into her office, stopping a few steps away from her desk and saluting her.

“General.” John acknowledges softly but firmly. Y/N nods, smiling softly.

“John.” She greets. “At ease.”

Captain Keller lowers his arm, giving her a friendly smile as he shuffles once on his feet.

“I apologize if I am disturbing ma’am, but General Ardmore requests your presence in the Neurolab.”

Y/N raises her brows. The Neurolab? That’s a bit of an odd location for Ardmore to be in.

“I see. Is there a problem?” She asks, as she stands up from her desk. John looks at her, as she makes her way around her desk to stand in front of him, looking up at him from her side. He purses his lips slightly before responding in his deep and raspy tone.

“Turns out Colonel Quaritch did not lose all of his captives after all.”

Y/N has gotten used to the eyes following her everywhere she walks by now. Her high rank, her demeanor and her intimidating size attract attention everywhere she goes. But this kind of attention has been following her her whole life, even before waking up as a Recom, with people staring at her; some in admiration, some in judgement, some in curiosity and some in just lust. By now, it doesn’t bother her, and if it wasn’t for the way she has been conditioned to pay attention to everything around her, she wouldn’t even notice. So now, as she walks through the corridors of the Ops center, with John following behind her and towering over the humans walking around, she ignores the multiple pairs of eyes that follow their moving figures. They turn a corner to a corridor with less people and Y/N turns her head towards her team Captain.

“So, about this prisoner. Tell me more.” She says as they keep on walking together towards the designated place. John takes a sip of carbon dioxide, letting his lungs fill up nicely, before responding to his General.

“It’s a human boy. Raised mostly in the wild by the resistance and the natives. Deceased Colonel Quaritch’s son.” He replies, watching as Y/N raises a brow disapprovingly.

“Son? He had a child?” She asks, her cropped ears folding back slightly. John nods.

“Yes ma’am. He got one of his scorpion pilots pregnant when he was still alive, resulting in the boy. The mother died in the war and the kid was left with the resistance.” He informs her. Y/N scoffs in amusement, shaking her head, and her tail swings a couple of times behind her.

“So not only did he give leverage to the traitor for months, but he was fraternizing with his own pilots too? Talk about populating Pandora.” She comments and John chuckles, shaking his head. Y/N brings the mask of her Recom Breather up to her face and takes a filling sip of carbon dioxide, before lowering it and talking to John again.

“How come the boy was not sent back to Earth, like everyone else?”

John takes a sip from his mask as well before speaking.

“He was too young. Babies cannot be put in cryo sleep.”

Y/N hums, turning her line of vision away for a moment before looking back at him.

“And he is important to us how exactly?”

“He’s been with Sully’s family for years, grown up with the kids. He knows every single Na’vi operation, the location of their main base, everything. If the science department manage to force this information out of him then we have hit the jackpot.” John replies. Y/N nods slowly, grabbing her mask again and moving it up to her face. New thoughts start roaming her mind, processing the new information.

“I see.”

。。。

Miles’ head is in multiple places at once. Firstly, his team’s encounter in the forest still has him and his troopers shaken. Five of their own are dead, gone in a matter of seconds. He believes his team will get over their deaths soon, they are soldiers after all, they have lost people before. But what bothers him the most is the human boy he never thought he would see again. Young Miles. Quaritch’s steps are firm as he walks through the corridors of the Ops center, with Wainfleet following close behind. Miles’ tail moves slowly behind him, as him and his Lieutenant move towards the Neurolab, both Recoms silent. Lyle’s eyes remain on the back of Miles’ head, trying to figure out the current mood of his Colonel. After all, they have just found his predecessor’s son. That must be shocking even to Miles himself. But up until now, the Colonel has shown no emotions towards the situation. As soon as they returned to base, he handed the boy in Ardmore’s troops’ hands like he was as valuable as any other prisoner. But a few moments ago, as soon as he had heard that the boy would be strapped to the DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner, he was immediately on his feet and out the door, with Lyle following behind. So Wainfleet cannot make out exactly what the Colonel is feeling. He tries to read his body language, watching his tail and his ears but they do not show any sign of his emotions either. With his eyes still on his Colonel, Lyle brings the Recom Breather mask up to his face and takes a sip of carbon dioxide. Well, he’s about to figure out what Miles is thinking, as they are now heading straight for the Neurolab down the corridor.

。。。

As Y/N and John turn the corner to finally be in front of the Neurolab, he is suddenly pulled back and pressed against the wall, put out of sight from the entrance. His first instinct is to fight and then react but the one who has pulled him back is Y/N.

“General?” He questions as Y/N presses herself against the wall as well. She shushes him, her eyes carefully inspecting the front of the Neurolab. John follows her line of vision and a few moments later, two pairs of heavy combat boots echo through the corridor. What he can only assume is Colonel Quaritch and his Lieutenant, as far as John remembers from the holograms shown to him and Y/N in the Holofloor the first day they arrived, pass through and wait for the door of the Neurolab to open. The metal doors slide open and Wainfleet is the first to move a step inside, but Quaritch doesn’t move. Instead his head is raised slightly up and he’s looking around, his tail now swinging faster behind him. His brows furrow in concentration as he seems to be searching around for something. Wainfleet, who has now stepped a foot in the lab, turns to his commander with a raised eyebrow.

“Colonel?”

Quaritch looks around for a bit more, amber eyes searching for whatever has suddenly caught his attention, but when he doesn’t find it, he shakes his head with a displeased expression on his face and heads inside the Neurolab. The doors slide closed after him and Wainfleet walk in, and Y/N removes herself from the wall. John turns his head towards her, giving her a questioning look.

“What was that for?” He asks. Y/N doesn’t answer, instead she looks thoughtfully at a blank spot on the floor for a moment, before she raises her head again and turns to him.

“We best not make our presence known. I want to see how this unfolds.”

“Where is Jake Sully?”

“I don’t know!” Screams the boy in fear, his voice cracking from the strain he puts on his exhausted throat. The DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner where he is strapped on, spins in flashing green lights, with a whirring sound that fills the Neurolab.

“We know that you know.” Ardmore presses.

Quaritch watches intently, leaning with one arm on the glass panel of the Neurolab’s brain imaging booth.

“I don’t know!” The boy screams again.

“Just form a picture in your mind.” Ardmore says nonchalantly, lowering her head briefly to check the screen of the scanner. “Is it one of the floating mountains?”

“Let me out of here!” He replies back.

Inside the brain imaging booth, Wainfleet bends down to check the holo display of the boy’s brain, watching as different colors highlight the different brain states that he is going through, with the scanner feeding it visual memories in real time. The corporate man next to Quaritch turns around towards one of the scientists analyzing the hologram.

“Hey, he’s fighting this.” He states as Quaritch turns around as well, grabbing the mask of his Recom Breather and bringing it up to his face.

“Give us a minute.” The scientist replies, walking closer to the woman scientist analyzing the brain with him. Meanwhile, the boy continues to scream in the background.

“I don’t know!”

Ardmore purses her lips, slowly starting to get annoyed as she stares him down.

“Just form a thought.” She says while shaking her head, her voice starting to get laced in irritation. “And we will see it.”

“I don’t know!”

Quaritch slowly moves behind the holo display of the boy’s brain. His cropped ears raise up as he stares at it in curiosity. He shifts in place, brows slowly furrowing the more he looks at it.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do!” Ardmore says, finally raising her voice and showing her frustration. It’s been forty minutes, she has shit to do, but instead she’s stuck here interrogating this filthy kid who somehow isn’t budging. And where is L/N, she asked for her fifty minutes ago! The boy screams in pain as a sharp throb stabs down the center of his brain.

“Which clans would be harboring him?” Ardmore presses.

“I don’t know!” He screams yet again in pain, this time faster. “You’re gonna have to kill me!”

At that last sentence Miles’ eyes narrow down dangerously. His ears fold back and he glares at the hologram, before a displeased expression plasters on his face, his upper lip twitching upwards once. He bends down just like Wainfleet did, to get a closer look at the pulsing electric waves that run through the neurons of the hologram brain in a neon orange color. The boy’s screams continue in the background.

“Watch this, you’re peaking all over the prefrontal.” The male scientist who spoke earlier tells the female scientist as she scrambles with a datapad that analyzes the boy’s brain further.

“It’s not gonna stop until you give us something. Where is he?!” Ardmore continues, this time irritation showing fully through the tone of her voice. The boy screams more, his body now starting to shake against the scanner.

“I don’t know you assholes, okay?! I don’t know!” He screams harder, his voice cracking again through the sentence. Quaritch has had enough.

With fast, heavy steps he moves swiftly to the control panel outside of the brain imaging booth, pressing his palm down on the red shut off button. The whirring sound of the scanner slowls down and the spinning panels slow down with it until they stop moving completely and the sound that has been filling the Neurolab for almost fifty minutes stops, plunging the room in silence. Ardmore turns around, snapping her head back to get a look of the person who just shut off the scanner. Miles removes his massive hand from the control panel and straightens his posture, looking back at the General with the tip of his tail slightly raised while Wainfleet walks out of the booth and stands a few feet away from his Colonel. The boy pants heavily, eyes now half lidded and blood leaking out of his left nostril. With slow and soft strides, trying to approach the situation carefully, Quaritch gets closer to the General. His vision falls on the boy for a bit before he turns his back to him and moves his head closer to Ardmore. Maintaining reassuring eye contact with her, he speaks.

“General, let me… try the personal angle.” He says with a nod and ears folded back, voice raspy and firm. Ardmore stares intensively into his eyes, disbelief plastered on her face. She snaps her head towards the boy before turning to look at Quaritch with her mouth slightly agape in irritation.

“He’s not your son.” She tells him, glaring into his eyes warningly. Quaritch knows that there’s a hint of threat in her tone, and he doesn’t say anything but maintain the eye contact. Ardmore purses her lips and gives him one last stare before turning her head forward and walking down the steps of the scanner. Quaritch’s eyes follow her, turning his head towards her form until she steps on the floor of the Neurolab. Without any more words she strides off. Wainfleet steps out of her way and gives her a respectful head nod as she leaves and Quaritch turns his head towards the boy still strapped on the scanner. He reaches in and unstraps him, yanking the leads off of him. Two strong, muscled arms reach towards the boy’s figure and pull him out of the scanner. With exhausted and half lidded eyes he stares up at the Recombinant that is now carrying his weak body in his arms. Quaritch chuckles.

“Tough guy, huh? How’s that workin’ out for you?” He says softly to the kid before wiping his bloody nose with his thumb. He turns around and with heavy strides, starts making his way towards the door. Wainfleet watches him before following behind, as scientists and personnel watch them with wide eyes. Right as the two Recoms are about to exit, yet again Quaritch stops. With a curious stare he turns around, eyes frantically searching again for something that has caught his attention. Wainfleet raises a brow again, trying to figure out what is up with his Colonel today, but before he can start thinking too much of it, Quaritch has turned back towards the exit and has now stepped out. Wainfleet follows, the two pairs of combat boots thudding heavily on the metal floors, before the doors slide closed behind them.

。。。

Miles clenches his jaw as they walk through the hallway. That scent. That mind numbing scent. That scent that he smelled again. Just like the one that was lingering around the entrance of the Neurolab when he arrived. Similar to the one he fisted his cock to in the ISV Vindicator. She’s around here somewhere. He knows it.

。。。

In the second story of the Neurolab, Y/N and Captain Keller slowly get closer to the rail that lets them look down upon the brain imaging booth and the scanner. Y/N brings her Recom Breather mask up to her face and takes a deep sip, filling her lungs with the much needed carbon dioxide. John chuckles in disbelief, his amber eyes staring at the now empty scanner, before he turns his head towards her.

“Did you see that, General?” He asks, his raspy voice clearly displaying disapproval. Y/N’s stare onto the scanner is hard and filled with distaste. She removes the mask from her face and her cropped ears fold back slightly before speaking in a serious tone.

“Damn right I saw.”

After attending some important matters, Ardmore heads towards her office to review a few reports and then finish work for the day. After all, eclipse has fallen long ago and everyone has already wrapped up their shifts. But being the RDA’s Expeditionary Force Commander, she cannot rest so easily like the rest of the people on base, as the future of humanity is ultimately upon her shoulders. These thoughts roam her mind as she walks through the now dead and quiet corridors, her footsteps echoing through the hallways. After a few seconds, she arrives in front of her office door, pressing her keycard to the scanner on the right side. The door slides open and she takes a step inside before her senses heighten alarmingly as her eyes fall on the large blue figure in her office. Instinctively, her hand flies to her handgun but a further look at the Na’vi and she sighs, releasing her grip on the firearm.

“For fucks sake, L/N.”

Y/N gives her a grin, sat on one of the couches in Ardmore’s office with her legs one over the other on top of the coffee table in front of the piece of furniture.

“Apologies for my unannounced presence, General.” She replies, fidgeting with a combat knife as she continues sitting comfortably on the couch. Ardmore frowns at her once before stepping into the office, the door sliding closed behind her. She walks to her desk and takes off the holster along with the gun, placing it on top of the surface before turning away.

“Not only did you not attend to my side when I asked you to today, but you also made yourself comfortable in my office without my permission, after the work day nonetheless. Care to explain yourself?” She asks coldly, walking to the coffee machine in the corner of her office and turning it on.

“Ah, apologies, I plead guilty for the second charge. Not for the first one though.” Y/N says with a chuckle, running her elegant blue fingers over the black blade. “Coffee at night, General? I thought you were the healthy type.”

Ardmore huffs once in amusement, grabbing a standard-issue RDA coffee mug from a cupboard nearby and putting it under the coffee dispenser.

“When the fate of humanity is on your shoulders, you’ve thrown health out the window a long time ago.” She replies, turning around to lean against the table that the coffee machine and a few other assortments are on, and facing Y/N. Ardmore crosses her arms over her chest as the machine starts buzzing.

“So, why are you here?” She presses. Y/N’s eyes fall on her before she lowers her feet from the coffee table and sits up on the couch. She tucks the knife into its sheath on her gear and places her elbows on top of her knees, leaning forward.

“I was there today. In the Neurolab. Captain Keller informed me as you requested and I complied. However, as I was about to enter the lab, Colonel Quaritch and his Lieutenant approached the lab as well. I did not want to make my presence known so I stayed out of sight. But I was there. I attempted to catch up to you after but your assistant informed me that you were occupied with some important matters. So I came over here and waited.”

Ardmore raises a brow, looking back at Y/N, expecting something more. Y/N catches on to her expression and sighs, reaching into one of the pockets of her tactical pants to pull out a small metal card with a magnetic strip. She puts it on top of the coffee table like she’s making a peace offering and places her elbow on top of her knee again.

“Yes, I did steal the keycard that unlocks the door to your office from your assistant. But to my defense, I did not know when you’d be returning. Besides, I don’t think he has noticed yet.” Y/N says, giving Ardmore a mischievous smile. Ardmore sighs heavily, turning around to press a button on the coffee machine and with a whirring buzz, it starts dispensing the hot drink into the mug below.

“Get to the point.” She says shortly, the tiredness from the day’s events catching up to her as she reaches for a packet of sugar on the table. Y/N nods slowly and looks away briefly. Her eyes fall on Ardmore’s pistol on top of the desk and she runs her vision over it for a while.

“What do you think of Quaritch’s actions today?” She asks after a brief moment of silence. Ardmore stops her movements for a few seconds, before pouring the contents of the packet into the coffee and grabbing a small spoon from a container next to the sugar packets.

“Are you trying to hint at something?” She responds, not replying to Y/N’s question. Y/N’s ears fold back and she shifts briefly in place.

“Come on, General. I saw your suspicion and disapproval as he shut off the scanner and asked to interrogate the boy himself. You can’t tell me you don’t think that he’s onto something.” Y/N finally presses, watching the back of Ardmore’s head carefully. Ardmore stirs her coffee slowly, grabbing the mug by the handle and turning towards Y/N again. She continues stirring her drink as she looks over at the Recom whose eyes are now flashing in a dangerous glint.

“I know what you’re trying to say. Yes, his actions seemed questionable to me because of the link the boy holds to the original Miles Quaritch. However, I don’t think anything is going on. If the scanner can’t get the information out of the prisoner then the personal approach that Quaritch will be attempting tomorrow might lead us to something.” She replies. Y/N clenches her jaw, swallowing down the saliva in her mouth before trying again.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I think you’re overlooking something that can turn into a problem later on. He’s clearly fond of the kid. He did not turn the scanner off to try and suggest interrogating the boy, he did it to save his life. I know desperation when I see it. A few more minutes in the scanner and the kid’s brain would have been leaking out of his ears. No commanding officer saves a prisoner of war like that just for the purpose of an interrogation. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to risk having an officer in my ranks who has a soft spot for a prisoner who serves our enemy.” Y/N says, looking carefully at Ardmore who has now stopped stirring and is looking back at her with a thoughtful expression. She then inhales deeply and looks away for a brief moment, before raising the mug up to her lips and taking a sip.

“I appreciate your concern, L/N. But for now, I think you’re being a bit too paranoid. However, I will be watching Quaritch more carefully, if that puts your mind at ease. For now, focus on your own team and your missions, and let me do my job and deal with my own personnel.”

Y/N clenches her jaw again, clearly disappointed at the reply she received. She thinks about it but she does not argue. Instead, with a deep sigh, she leans back onto the couch, defeated.

“As you wish, ma’am.” She replies with a bored tone, turning her vision to the handgun on the desk again.

Ardmore walks to her desk and sits down, putting the coffee mug on top of the wood surface. Y/N slowly reaches forward for the pistol, her size allowing her to do so and she takes the firearm into her hands. With a pleased expression, she starts inspecting it while Ardmore turns on her personal datapad to take a look at some reports.

“A .40 caliber United Ballistics Zarkov-33, huh. Not bad, some of my troopers use the Recom version of this too. Powerful firearm. I see why it’s our standard. Though, I’d expect you to have something more personalized, General.” Y/N comments, inspecting the tactical light-laser and rangefinder on top of the muzzle of the gun.

“Yeah? Like this?” Ardmore replies nonchalantly, her eyes still on the datapad as she reaches down and pulls out her high magazine MIL-SPEC 502. Y/N’s eyes sparkle like a kid as she sees the sidearm being put on top of the desk and she puts the Z-33 Pistol next to the keycard on top of the coffee table and immediately reaches for the new gun. She inspects it carefully from the harness system to the grip and the 16 round magazine, muttering a little “damn” under her breath as she admires the weapon with her tail swinging side to side behind her. Ardmore slowly takes another sip of her coffee, before putting the mug down and speaking to her with her eyes still on the report.

“Now please get out of my office.”

Y/N’s ears fold back as she realizes that she’s been playing with a gun like a cat with a yarn ball while occupying her commander’s office.

“Right.” She replies, putting the second gun down on the coffee table as well and standing up.

“Good night, General.” She says in a firm tone, saluting Ardmore respectfully before turning around and heading out. As the door slides closed behind her, Ardmore sighs and takes another sip of her coffee. This is going to be a long night.

“Can you believe this? They’re helpless. Absolutely fuckin’ helpless.” Riley huffs out, raspy voice laced with irritation as he moves with his usual heavy steps and hands clasped behind his back. Y/N stands between him and Scott, the three of them walking through the training fields as soldiers run around under the sun, doing their daily drills. A bit further away, aircrafts take off and land, trains and vehicles move relentlessly, creating a noisy and busy atmosphere around them as Bridgehead city buzzes in activity as always.

“I’ve seen fuckin’ pigs more coordinated than this.”

Scott hums, raising a brow at Riley’s last comment.

“Oh com’ on LT. They jus’ stepped foot hier. Give ‘em a break, will ya?” He replies, looking at Riley who in return turns to stare at him.

“A fuckin’ break?! What do you think we’re doing here, playing nanny? We’re at war for fuck’s sake. Pull your head out of your arse.”

Y/N sighs, as Scott and Riley start going at it once again. Riley has recently been put in charge of training new recruits into enforcing the protection of Bridgehead city, seeing that Y/N and ALPHA have now taken over a good amount of Na’vi land territories, putting Bridgehead into the center of the natives’ attention. And as you might imagine, the man is not happy with his new troops’ level of skills. Not in the slightest bit. He’s been training them relentlessly, to the point that multiple recruits have passed out or thrown their guts up on the training field, for which in both cases they have gotten harsh punishment. Scott has disagreed to this for weeks now, arguing that these are the only soldiers they have available at the moment and if Riley continues like this he’ll kill them in no time, besides, the recruits that arrive on Bridgehead are already trained and what Riley is doing is unnecessary. He persistently repeats that they cannot afford to loose troops, skilled or not, because human capital is sacred on Pandora.

Y/N raises a gloved hand, stopping their argument on the spot, as they both give each other one last glare and fall quiet, turning to look at their commander.

“Riley is correct. We cannot have recruits this undertrained, especially during a time of uprising tensions. I’ll have a chat with General Ardmore about this. It seems that we need to establish new requirements for who can board on Pandora as a trooper.”

And with that both men nod and the argument is wrapped up.

“Hahaha she still pacifies you both. Better start calling her mommy.”

The three of them turn towards Lieutenant Álvarez and Captain Keller who are walking towards them, with John chuckling at Fernando’s comment. Riley scowls and Scott grins as the two higher ranking officers approach with lazy, heavy strides, hands clasped behind their carrier plates.

“I’m not listening to the comments of a man who got shot on his ass by the cartel.” Riley replies which makes Scott burst in laughter.

“Oh I forgot ‘bout tha’.” He says in between laughs as Fernando and John are now standing with them on the training ground. “Ye literally ran around the battlefield with a bullet up yer ass.”

Y/N hides a smile at Scott’s last comment as Riley and John laugh, with Fernando cracking a smile as well. After they all finish laughing he turns his head towards the recruits training some meters away from them. His tail flicks behind him in curiosity and he speaks to Riley without moving his eyes from the soldiers.

“I see you’re still not going easy on them.” He says as he watches the exhausted men and women try to not break down in the middle of the exercises.

“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ embarrassing. These are the people we’re supposed to colonize with. Pathetic.” Riley replies as all five of them are now watching the recruits. A few seconds later one of the men stops running, absolutely exhausted to the point that his body cannot move anymore and he remains behind while the group that is running laps continues. This only feeds into Riley’s irritation and with a booming voice, he yells.

“AY PRIVATE! WHAT THE FUCK?! SO WE JUST STANDING AROUND PLAYING WITH COCKS NOW?!”

His voice booms throughout the training field and multiple recruits flinch at the sound, staring up at the Recom in horror for a brief second before continuing their exercises. The poor recruit, a young man, flinches at the yelling, and stares at Riley in shock and fear.

“MOVE YER FUCKIN’ ARSE! STOP STARING AT ME LIKE YER WAITING FOR ME TO BLOW A DAMN LOAD ON YOUR FACE!” The Recombinant yells again. The terrified recruit gathers all of the strength he has left and scrams away, trying to hide in the line of the group running laps. Riley sighs in frustration, bringing his gloved hand up to rub the flat bridge of his nose as the rest of the Recoms chuckle.

“This looks like fun. I might be the one training them one of these days.” Y/N comments, crossing her arms as she watches the recruits in amusement and Riley scoffs in reply.

“Be my guest, General.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The Recoms turn around to see Sergeant Herrera approaching them, walking with her usual swaying hips and cocky demeanor, tail moving slowly behind her. The rest give her a friendly nod as they see her walk closer and she smiles.

“General. Captain. Lieutenants. Sergeant.” She greets them all accordingly before turning to Y/N.

“General, Sergeant Davis has made another strategic plan for taking over the west forest area above the border, and he wants you to go over it. He’s currently with the science department, in the main labs, consulting them on a few details. When you have the time, your presence would be appreciated.”

Y/N hums, uncrossing her arms and turning to her.

“Thank you, Maria. Well, I’ll see you later then gentlemen. I hope the training goes well, Lieutenant Jones. I’ll speak to Ardmore tomorrow about the whole thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” They reply in unison.

The men nod, saluting her respectfully and without further ado, Y/N turns and walks away, leaving them and Maria alone on the training field. As she moves away, they all turn towards watching the recruits again, with Riley’s irritation back in check.

“NOW DROP DOWN AND GIVE ME FIFTY, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Y/N doesn’t particularly hate the science department. But she doesn’t like them either. They’re just there, existing in the same space as her and her troops, and she pays them no mind. The only person from her team that interacts with them on a regular is Henry Davis. Being the Master Gunnery Sergeant, he is the one responsible for coming up with new strategies, tactics and plans. That includes constantly consulting the science department on Pandora’s flora and fauna, so every possibility in a mission can be accounted for. And up until now, he has done amazing. Not only have his strategies never failed once, but he has managed to learn a vast amount of information about Pandora in an incredibly short time. To say that Y/N is very proud would be an understatement.

This is what she’s thinking as she walks through the corridors to get to the science department building. Her steps are lazy as she is in no rush, taking her time and looking around here and there. She takes a turn to a larger corridor that connects the main labs to the headquarters of the department, a spacious tunnel that also connects other parts of the building to each other. As she sets her eyes on the doors of the labs, something pounces at the corner of her vision. In a flash, Y/N has already drawn out her most powerful handgun, pointing the muzzle at the thing that now looks up at her with its yellow eyes. A viperwolf. Y/N’s senses are now fully alarmed and locked in on the creature that has stopped moving and lowered its body closer to the floor in caution, with its six limbs bent. Creatures like this have attacked her forces before. They are extremely hostile and lethal to humans. So how the fuck did an animal like this get in here? Breathing getting faster, she keeps the gun pointed at it and sensing the danger, the viperwolf clenches its snake like jaw and bares its obsidian teeth at her, growling warningly at the Recom. Y/N pulls back the slide of her gun, ready to shoot the thing dead if it tries anything. The animal growls harder, moving one clawed hand forward, and just as Y/N is about to pull the trigger-

“DON’T SHOOT HIM!”

At the sound of the feminine voice, the viperwolf runs away towards it. Y/N scowls, snapping back towards the voice to try and get a peak of the person who has let this thing loose. Her breath catches right in her throat.

Standing a few feet away from her, is the most beautiful woman that Y/N has ever laid eyes on. Flowing long locks of black hair with a few interlocked braids fall on her shoulders, bringing forth her gorgeous, beautiful face with big amber eyes that look at Y/N carefully. She is dressed in a dark blue and black uniform that Y/N has never seen before, but it has the RDA’s logo. It’s tight fitting to her thin, elegant Na’vi body, the top cropped right above her cleavage, showing a pair of firm collarbones. Her tail moves slowly behind her, still cautious at the possibility that Y/N might shoot the animal which is now hiding behind her long, elegant legs. Are all Na’vi women so breathtaking beautiful? Realizing that she’s ogling, Y/N clears her throat and relaxes her posture, putting the handgun back in its holster.

“Care to explain why you have a wild animal, nevertheless a viperwolf, running around base?” She speaks, regaining her commander voice as her ears fold back and she pins the woman with a stare. The girl’s eyes take in Y/N from head to toe, before they fall on her tail which is moving side to side behind her, betraying her hardened soldier composure. A playful smile falls on her lips and she turns her doe eyes to Y/N’s face.

“He is not a wild animal, ma’am. He is my friend. I raised him since he was a tiny cub. You’re the one who drew her weapon at an unprovoked animal.” She replies, crossing her toned arms over her chest. The woman’s soothing voice prickles goosebumps on Y/N’s skin, soft and tranquil to the ear. But Y/N is a master at hiding emotions. She scowls at the girl, raising a brow disapprovingly as she stares her judgmentally up and down.

“I’m sorry, did you say “friend”? I knew you science department chicks had a few screws loose but I didn’t think it was this bad.” She replies with a condescending tone. But instead of getting offended, the girl chuckles. That catches Y/N off guard briefly, and she looks at her with a questioning expression. The woman turns her eyes to Y/N’s, looking into them through her long lashes with an amused smile and she starts walking towards the General. Y/N can’t help but stare as even her walk is attention catching, so elegant yet humble, her long tail swinging playfully side to side. The viperwolf follows behind her, staying close to her long and toned legs and rubbing its body on her calves. She stops in front of Y/N, careful to not get into her personal space, and brings her right hand forward for a handshake.

“Name’s Toddy. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, General. You have a feared reputation ‘round ‘ere. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” She says with a smile, waiting for Y/N to engage in the handshake. Y/N can’t help but notice a faint southern drawl in her way of speaking, and she looks down at her hand, admiring the elegant veins on it for a second, before clasping it with her own. Five fingers. Thankfully not a native.

“Recombinant?” Y/N asks as they shake hands, noticing how her palm is pleasantly warm. Toddy shakes her head.

“Avatar.” She replies as they end the handshake. “Though I wish I could maintain a Na’vi body permanently.”

Y/N chuckles, crossing her arms.

“It’s not a blessing. Trust me. Try sleeping with a tail and a neural whip. Nine times out of ten you’ll crush them with your body or an elbow and you’ll wake up hissing in pain.” She replies and Toddy giggles, her tail moving behind her in delight.

“If I could have this body forever, I’d take my chances. So, what brings you to these parts of base, General? Here for Sergeant Davis I assume?”

Y/N nods once as she lightly shifts in place, with her cropped ears slightly folding back in approval. Toddy notices them and her eyes narrow for a split second, before she gives Y/N a smile.

“Well then, follow me.”

。。。

Toddy brings Y/N to one of the main labs, probably the biggest one. The viperwolf follows behind them, staying close to Toddy and occasionally looking around. The lab is noisy and filled with personnel, people running around with datapads, samples and lab equipment, some of them in white coats some others in corporate attire. Everyone seems to be deep in work, not lifting their heads from what they’re doing and deep in conversations with each other. Y/N turns to Toddy as they both walk amongst them.

“It’s quite busy in here. The scientists who we see in our parts of base aren’t usually this erratic in work. Is everyday like this?” She asks, looking at the woman next to her. Toddy shakes her head.

“Not usually. It’s often quite chill in here, people mind their own research in their labs. But since that prisoner that Colonel Quaritch brought in resisted the DPF’s NeuroSect E7.2T scanner yesterday, everyone has been scrambling to figure out a way for it to not happen again. No one has been able to understand what went wrong until now, and that’s a big problem.” She explains, looking back at Y/N. “The scanner is an extremely important tool not only for the department, but for the entire mission. It is the primary way of how we figure out different things about Pandora from the memories of the native’s, avatar’s and our own people, without having to go outside and risk our lives to gain information. If a human boy can fight it then it raises a huge uncertainty if we can use it again in the future.”

Y/N looks away in thought, watching the people around them as they make way for the two larger women and the animal to pass through the human sized facility. She then turns back to Toddy.

“So, what’s your specialization? Some fancy zoology shit?” She asks as she gives the viperwolf a glance at that last sentence and Toddy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Oh? Is the General interested in me?” She says, tilting her head teasingly with a smile and Y/N scoffs, furrowing her brows like a nine year old who has been told that her playground buddy has a crush on her. That makes Toddy chuckle.

“I’m not a scientist. I’m a scout.” She then replies, turning her head to look forward as to not bump into any humans.

“A scout? What’s that? Like the rangers we have in our department?” Y/N asks with a raised brow, moving away a female scientist that nearly walks into her.

“No, not really. Your rangers are responsible for surprise raids on the Na’vi in the forest. My job on the other hand is to go into the wild to gather the samples that the scientists and the medics require for their research or other uses.” Toddy replies, turning her hips slightly to show Y/N the sample storing bag secured on her belt. “I wouldn’t be considered a scientist since I don’t do research, but I am very well informed about the ecosystems of Pandora, as well as all of its species. At least the ones humanity has been able to discover and research up until now.”

Y/N nods once, looking slightly intrigued.

“So I’m assuming you know your way around the forest then.” She says, tilting her head slightly. Toddy grins.

“Like the back of my hand.”

They have now arrived to a spacious lab room where a bunch of specialists in white coats are talking to the large male Recom amongst them, wearing ALPHA’s casual uniform. Y/N watches momentarily as Henry continues to converse with them, before turning to the beautiful woman next to her who has been eyeing Y/N’s pretty face for a few seconds now.

“This is where we part then.”

Toddy smiles, watching Y/N through her lashes with her doe eyes before reaching for a final handshake.

“Maybe I could show you ‘round the forest sometime, General. Without the uniform and the high caliber destructive weapons.” She replies, her long ears slightly raising up as she says the last sentence to Y/N. The General grasps her hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go.

“I’ll think about it, Toddy.”

“Well alright then.”

And with that, Toddy gives Y/N one final beautiful smile before turning around and walking away. Her steps are calm and her posture is relaxed as she walks, taking her time to move her hips to her own rhythm and leisure while her tail moves side to side behind her. The viperwolf follows behind, with the paddled end of its tail wagging behind it. Y/N now notices the collar on its neck, dark blue and black that match its owner’s uniform, the dark colors almost making it blend completely to the black skin of its neck. She shakes her head and turns towards the room where Henry has now noticed his General, before walking inside.

Title explanation:

SSDD - Same Shit, Different Day.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow fanfiction #miles quaritch #avatar fanfiction #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #atwow recoms #atwow oc recoms #avatar recoms #recombinant #recom lyle wainfleet #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #recom oc #avatar rda #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch x y/n #miles quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch fanfiction

[duckshuffled]

⚠️ severe weather! ⚠️

bonus worth 100 dollar

#ttcc #toontown corporate clash #corporate clash #rainmaker #misty monsoon #hi. pretend it didn't take me 4 months to post anything ok? #i finally got around to making a design for misty (challenge because i never draw humans) and wanted something to show for it #and then i spent way too many hours staring at this canvas. free me #aside from that i am really proud of how this turned out it was a lot of new things for me. so yay! #i am also happy with their design in a full piece. it's not very different but i liked looking up weather-related instruments anyway #umm go see pearl squidslugs for more of this design bug beat me to it. ok smile #my art

[supercantaloupe]

ao3 stats game

tagged by @malcolm-f-tucker, ty!!

Rules: Give us the links to your wonderful words with the most hits, most kudos, most comments, most bookmarks, most words, and fewest words.

expect this to be skewed towards d20 bc while i haven't written much for that in a while it is easily the biggest fandom i've written anything for

Most hits: The Disappearance of Adaine Abernant - dimension 20 (fantasy high), 2,637 hits

Most kudos: ^, 193 kudos

Most comments: Extra Credit - dimension 20 (fantasy high), 73 comments

Most bookmarks: ^, 54 bookmarks

Most words: Starlight - oklahoma!, currently sitting at 34,091 words.

Fewest words: The Symphony of Hadestown - hadesotwn, 191 words. my first posted fic ever! look at her, she's so tiny, lol. my next shortest clocks in at exactly 400 words longer; even when i'm trying to be brief i tend to go on a bit, haha

i shall tag @tragedyposting @theresa-of-liechtenstein @kingfisherkink @grasslandgirl and @druid-for-hire! idk who else of my mutuals really uses ao3 at all so i'll just leave it there lol

#sasha speaks #let the poet bless this round #tag game #tagged for me #malcolm-f-tucker #ty! #starlight. man #i stubbornly refuse to abandon this one despite not updating it in over a year #i think it somehow has even less of an audience than any of my niche ass opera shit but i don't even care #it is my pet project and i have the whole thing planned out meticulously still #just gotta actually write it someday. i would estimate its current length is about a third of the hypothetical final thing #making it easily my longest and most ambitious work ever. extra credit is my next longest which sits completed at about 31k #my current don g wip. well i am hoping it won't get that long but who knows. i'm just at the start of it all still #also. man remember when i wrote for an Actual Fandom? lol #i still really like my fantasy high fics tbh i'm really proud of how they turned out and how much people have responded to them #even if i've more or less moved on from d20 at this point #if junior year ever drops i will be all over that shit once again but until then i've mostly set it aside #maybe i'll get back to spelling bee though. bugs me that it's unfinished and i know it still has some kind of audience that wants to see

[eggluverz]

LIKE ME BETTER?

PAIRING. il!dan heng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 615

SUMMARY. you want to braid dan heng's hair and he wonders if you like him better in this form.

SOF'S NOTE. just a short and sweet drabble!! <3 i just had thoughts of wanting to play with dan heng's long hair and this came out heh ;p hope u enjoy!!

“Can I braid your hair?”

Dan Heng looked up from the pages of his book, startled at the sudden request. He had just returned to the Astral Express after his long journey at the Xianzhou and was settling back into life as a proud Nameless. 

While the reconciliation with his past was settled, he still hasn’t reverted back to his human form. Not yet, at least. 

And with the interest you’ve taken to his long hair and pointed horns, Dan Heng was wondering if he should keep this appearance just for a little longer. 

You sat up next to him on his bed, leaning your back against the wall. He smiled at your comfortable stance, setting his book aside. As he turned his face away from you, he offered the back of his head and said, “Here you go.” 

With a cheer of happiness, you excitedly straightened up. You turned so you were facing Dan Heng’s back as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. It was soft and smooth to the touch, and it made you want to twirl a strand around your finger. 

“You’re hair is so pretty like this,” you said with a sigh, a dreamy look on your face. 

He chuckled softly, leaning into your hands as you massaged the base of his scalp. 

You began separating his hair into three sections and weaving one over the other. Back and forth, back and forth, you continued down the length of his hair. The reds and greens mixed in with the black and you wondered how much the colors would shine in the sunlight. With a content smile, you let yourself bask in this intimate moment with Dan Heng. 

After a few moments passed, Dan Heng spoke up, almost cautiously. “Do you…like me better in my Vidyadhara form?”

Your eyes snapped wide open and you quickly let go of the hair you just finished braiding. “No! Of course not.” 

He let out a short hum. 

Pursing your lips you moved around on his bed so you were face to face with Dan Heng. You placed your hand on his cheek softly and examined him; he had the same nose, the same mouth, the same jaw. His eyes may have been a different color, but the expressions and depth they held were the same. 

No matter the appearance, he was still your Dan Heng. And you only wanted him to present himself in a way he was most comfortable with. 

“You look so handsome like this,” you stated, feeling the warmth from his cheek emanate onto your palm. “And you look just as handsome without the Vidyadhara features— The way I first saw you on the Express.”

The worried crease between his brows lifted as he listened to your words. He rested his idle hands on your legs and gave them a brief squeeze. You smiled. 

“You aren’t able to braid my hair like this if I take on my preferred human form, though.” 

You giggled and ruffled the top of his head. “Do you think that really matters to me? It’s pretty and it’s fun, yes, but I get plenty of enjoyment putting March 7th’s hair clips all over your hair as it is.” 

Now it was Dan Heng’s turn to crack a grin. “My hair certainly looks great whenever you do such things.” He leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss atop your head. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Always accepting me for who I am.”

“I always will!” you said, reaching out to hold him in your embrace. You gazed at him fondly and he returned the look with upturned lips. “I’ll forever be your biggest supporter.”

“And I, yours.”

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanfiction #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #dan heng #dan heng imagines #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr drabbles

[gimmeurtmi]

stray kids and… things they only share with you.

tags: ot8, established relationships, fluff

warnings: swearing, lowkey angst for han, i don’t actually know the gender of min’s cats okay, idk if there’s anything else?

notes: this is my first time doing an ot8 thing so feedback is appreciated <3 also idk if they’re the same length i just wrote lol

chan… headphones

you’re on chan’s bed, a book in hand as you read while chan works. quality time is very important to you, even if he is observed in his work and doesn’t say much while you’re reading.

every now and again he’ll get up for a drink and silently put one by your side, too. when he’s done something he’s specifically proud of he’ll let out a giggle and maybe clap his hands, instinctively turning to you with a smile even if he doesn’t stop to explain what made him happy.

if you’re feeling a little more touchy that day, he’ll happily let you wrap your arms around his shoulder as his focus remains on his work. he’ll let you pepper kisses on his cheek, blushing lightly, before you get bored and go back to your own work.

when he’s done making something he really likes he turns to you with a grin.

“mate,” he says, face beaming. “mate!”

“come on,” you say, marking your place in your book before putting it aside. you extended your hand to him, and he grabs the headphones he’s been using and hands them to you.

you place them securely on your head and nod at him, ready to listen. chan plays the track for you, finally resting his head on your shoulder.

he wraps his hand around your bicep, closing his eyes softly as he picks up the very faint sound of the track playing through the headphones.

when it’s done you smile down at him, ready to praise him, but his mouth is open—soft breathes leaving his lips, and so you know he’s asleep.

instead you connect the headphones to your spotify and listen to a podcast while you rest your eyes. you don’t dare move, just in case chan might wake up from the disruption.

you know he might scold you for not waking him up, but it’s almost three am—and by what you’ve just listened to it’s safe to say he finished the track, so there’s no reason he shouldn’t be allowed to sleep after his hard work.

you let yourself fall asleep as well once the podcast you’ve been listening to is over, carefully putting the headphones to the side as you know how important they are to chan.

the first time he let you use them you gasped, but he insisted since you left your pair at home and wanted to listen to music while studying without bothering chan’s concentration.

“i have a lot of pairs anyway,” he said calmly, “borrow them whenever you need.”

minho… cat snacks

you both sit on the floor of his parents’ house, full from the dinner minho cooked for you and his family. you were talking about your new neighbour who you swore had a pet wolf. minho kept saying it isn’t a wolf, that he even spoke to the man and it’s just a cross breed.

you insist it’s a wolf.

his father sides with him, saying that would have to be illegal, but before you can offer your argumatives points, dori walks over to you, sits in your lap, and starts meowing loudly.

“he really is just like you,” you say to minho. he cocks his head to the side. “he wants something so he comes to me and starts making noise.”

“he’s hungry,” minho explains, rolling his eyes at your comment.

he gets up and grabs three snack packs, handing you one before he calls the other two over for some dinner.

from the corner of your eye you can see minho’s mum staring at you, in complete shock—but you try not to get too paranoid about it. you know she likes you, minho promised she likes you.

you instead focus on the cat in your lap, now meowing even louder once the snack came into view. you quickly open it and offer it up, giggling at the way he eagerly starts licking at the food.

when you glance over at minho you freeze, noticing the tension in the air.

“am i doing it wrong?” you whisper, as if dori might judge you for that question.

he shakes his head slowly but doesn’t say anything else. his mum quickly brings up another subject, asking you all about that incident at work you mentioned on your last visit.

minho helps them clear the last of the plates and cups that are left, insisting you sit down even after you offered to help three times.

soonie approaches you slowly before sitting down right on top of your phone.

you start talking to her, explaining the logic behind her actions, and she then shows you her stomach. you instantly start scratching it, knowing if she’s anything like her big brother she’ll start rioting if she doesn’t get the attention she wants.

after a few minutes of cooing at the cat you feel someone sitting down next to you, a pair of big hands wrapping around your waist, minho placing his chin on your shoulder.

“my mum just told me off,” he says, and you can hear the grin on his face.

“what did you do?”

“apparently i have never in all my life let anyone else feed the cats with me.”

“she was looking at me weird,” you mumble, “didn’t think it would be over something so simple.”

“you know the cats mean the world to me, right?” he looks at you, brows knitted together. now he’s looking at you weird—and it doesn’t help that they have the same confused face.

“yes, they’re your lockscreen and i’m not.”

“not this again,” minho sighs, but you simply grin at him.

“what’s your point?”

“i didn’t notice i do that, nor did i notice i gave you one of the snacks to feed them with,” is all his explanation. you manage to fill in the blanks yourself—knowing minho would never say it if it’s as painfully honest as you think it is.

you kiss his lips softly. “thank you for trusting me with your world.”

he nods, satisfied you understood him. like you always do.

changbin… phone

“hey, can you text the boys for me? tell felix we’ll be there in a second,” changbin says, handing you his phone as he keeps his eyes focused on the road.

“password?” you ask, trying to angle the phone towards his face until you remember it’s an android and it doesn’t even have face recognition.

“your birthday,” he says simply.

“simp,” you giggle, trying and failing to bite back your smile. changbin pays no mind to your comment, deciding being a simp for you is much better than ever letting you down—so he’ll accept that name proudly.

you text felix the details and put the phone back in the cup holder, focusing instead on the next song on changbin’s playlist.

“hey, can you order the food? i’m just gonna shower,” changbin asks as you enter the dorm. he came to pick you up right after his gym session, and while he didn’t want to see you while he was all sweaty he also didn’t want to make you wait any longer, so he still needs a shower.

you don’t have to ask for the passcode this time, easily keying in your birthday before ordering the food you talked about on your way home.

you notice he has solitaire on his phone, and while that might not be the most appealing game in the world you’re also extremely bored. you know you shouldn’t use his phone for anything other than what he’s asked you to, so you knock on the shower door quickly.

“binnie, can i play on your phone until the food’s ready?”

“of course, sweetheart!” he yells back.

you smile to yourself before plopping down on the couch and starting a new game.

the boys spent approximately forty five minutes taking pictures while all of you went to the han river for a picnic. it’s alright though, because they also took pictures of you with your boyfriend, and of you alone, so it’s not like you were excluded from the vanity game.

once the sun disappeared and the weather turned cooler you went back to the dorm to finish the rest of the food.

they were all looking over the pictures, deciding which was the best one to upload.

“who took the picture of me with the watermelon?” minho asks enthusiastically.

“binnie did,” you respond, as you spend your time focusing on the delicious cake felix made.

minho whines, considering changbin was taking one of his food naps at the moment and couldn’t show him the pictures.

you grab his phone from where he placed it down on the table and enter his gallery—handing the phone over to minho so he can look over the pictures.

he simply gasps at you.

“you know his passcode?”

you lock the phone again, showing minho that it was your thumb print that can unlock it.

“wow,” chan chuckles.

you don’t pay much attention to them though, far more invested in the cake, and so you get back to eating it while minho sends himself all the pictures off changbin’s phone.

hyunjin… jewellery

it starts flirtatious, like most things are with you and hyunjin. you’re playing with his hand, fiddling with his fingers, drawing circles on his wrist. you grab the ring on his finger and pull it off before placing it on the finger next to it. and then the finger next to it. you play this game for a few more minutes, hyunjin’s eyes practically turned into two hearts as he took in the amusement on your face. as he giggles, he grabs the ring from you and you pout—sad for the game to be over. but it isn’t, as the roles are now reversed, hyunjin moving the ring from finger to finger.

it’s then the waitress approaches your table, albeit hestitanly, and asks for your orders.

the ring stays on your hand all night.

“it suits you,” hyunjin says when you try and give it back.

“beautiful, can i have my ring?” he asks as he steps out of the shower a few days later. he has an event tonight, some important people he needs to meet, and he wants to look his best. jewellery is important for that.

“yeah, of course,” you don’t even hesitate. it was his ring to begin with, and he never officially gifted it as yours to keep. you were just looking after it for a bit.

when hyunjin gets back from paris he has a lot of gifts with him—all ysl branded and expensive. he shows off the clothes and the perfume and tells you all about the luxurious evenings him and felix enjoyed. of course, he sent you pictures as most of the events were taking place in front of him, but you enjoy his story telling even more when he’s right in front of you.

when he shows you the necklace he got you gasp, turning it over in your hand.

“it’s so pretty!” you gush. “that’ll look beautiful with a low neckline dress.”

“never wore a dress before,” his eyes twinkle at you.

you laugh at him and roll your eyes before handing the necklace back to him.

“you can wear it for that fancy meal we’re going to next week?” he offers simply.

you shake your head; not wanting to come off greedy. it was beautiful, and it must’ve been extremely expensive, and you already felt guilty for that comment you made. as if you’d just be allowed to wear it.

“i can’t take that, it was a gift from a brand partner. what will they say?”

“you’re not taking it,” hyunjin says simply, and you’re surprised by how quickly he’s giving up. “it’s a lend. you’ll wear it for that night and then give it back. and when you wanna wear it again just ask.”

“but i—“

he places his finger on your lips before pecking them softly, concluding the conversation for now.

jisung… demos

“baby! baby! baby! baby!” your boyfriend jumps in his seat as you answer the facetime call. sometimes you wonder where his energy supply comes from because it can’t possibly be natural.

it’s ten at night.

“hey, ji,” you smile at him. his energy is infectious, and the best thing to see after a long day of work.

“baby! i wrote the best song!” he smiles at you, his cheeks scrunched together as his face shines proudly.

“let’s hear it,” you ask, quickly grabbing your headphones so you could listen carefully.

he places the phone down against his water bottle, changing the view slightly.

his hair is hiding beneath a beanie, probably because he couldn’t be bothered to tame it, and his laptop is right in front of him.

other than that you can’t see much considering there’s only a small lamp illuminating the room, pointing only at the desk. there’s pieces of paper crumbled by the laptop—unwanted lyrics, you suppose.

“it doesn’t have a name yet,” he introduces, “and i might give it to the company because i’m not sure if the vibe is right for us. i think it could be right maybe if chan rearranges it a bit, but i don’t think it needs any change at all. maybe? maybe if felix sings the bridge then—“

“—hey! j.one!” he looks over at you, eyes wide and mouth in a small circle. “just play the song and then we can discuss it?”

he nods at you, sitting back in his chair and pressing play on his program.

the track starts playing loudly on the speakers around him. it’s slightly choppy, not the best quality to hear a song for the first time through a phone like this, but jisung is extremely impatient. he wanted you to hear the song right away, quite literally as soon as he finished recording the last part of it. so you didn’t mind straining slightly to try and catch all the lyrics.

jisung bops his head along to the beat, his face extremely serious as he listens back carefully.

you assume it’s only his second or third time hearing it back in completion since he doesn’t even monitor your reactions like he sometimes does—instead he’s taking notes.

you know his favourite part is coming up when his hand lifts into the air, dropping in time with the beat before the chorus plays again.

his eyebrows are scrunched together as a much faster rap verse starts, and you can tell he’s monitoring the cadence, even if it is just a demo track and he will most definitely re-record the vocals once he decides what to do with the track.

only when the song ends does he look back at you, expectedly, eyebrows high on his nervous face.

you clap your hands, nodding at him.

“nah, say what you actually think!” he all but scolds you.

“i think it deserved applause!”

he sends you a look before you go into more detail. what you thought of the beat, and the pace, and the sound, and the vibe. you aren’t professionally involved in music, you only know the words jisung taught you, but he still insists your opinion is more important than chan’s to him. you tell him that flattery isn’t useful in this situation, nor do you believe its true, but he stands by it.

“but the lyrics,” you start, and jisung’s eyes frown at your tone. “they’re incredibly moving, ji, but they’re so sad.”

“yeah,” he just nods, no longer looking at you.

“the beat doesn’t match how sad it is,” you comment, trying to disguise your worries as a simple criticism of the work.

“that’s on purpose though,” he says quickly, “i think it’s so sad that if the music matched it would be too much. plus, the feeling i’m talking about is acting like everything is normal, so a quick beat matches perfectly.”

you nod. “and why are you acting like everything is normal?”

jisung sighs, before he answers your question with a completely different one. “do you think i should give the song to someone else?”

“no,” you say, “felix would suit the bridge. and an emotional song is always best when it’s sang by someone that can relate.”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he says, knowing where you’re trying to take the conversation.

“and yet you called me to listen to it,” you cock your eyebrows up.

jisung rests his head against the chair for a moment, looking up as he thinks over his next words carefully. then he tells you all about it—the inspiration behind another one of his sad songs. you listen carefully, humming and nodding and offering your support and your words when he asks for them.

after about an hour on the phone a warning comes up to tell you you only have 20% left.

you go to grab your charger, and the pause in conversation causes the subject to move to your day and your plans for the weekend before they circle back to the song.

you do really like it, and tell him as such, encouraging him to show it to chan and the others soon.

after you say your goodbyes, and you reassure jisung of how much you love him, you go to sleep with the beat still stuck in your head.

when you tell jisung that the next morning he decides he can’t possibly give that track to anyone else—not even his band.

the company like it so much they let him release it as one of his solo tracks—his face beaming when he tells you the news two weeks later. right before playing another new song for you.

felix… games

“no way!” you gasp as you look around felix’s room for the very first time. he has all sorts of trinkets and fairy lights and even a beautiful piece of artwork on the wall. and then there’s his computer with the huge double monitor—which looks more expensive than anything else you’ve seen in the house so far.

but by the monitor there is a glass case, and inside it is an original gameboy.

“does it still work?” you ask enthusiastically.

“of course it does,” he scoffs, “i play it all the time.”

“you play your switch all the time,” you correct him.

“and then i play a little bit of that one,” he says, “it has the first ever pokémon on it.”

“what other games do you have for it?” you ask, eyes sparkling at him.

felix pulls out a box from the shelves above his monitor and hands it to you.

you opened it quickly, picking up all the different games inside it. all the popular ones are there, as well as ones you’ve never even heard of before. you can count at least three dozen in there. there’s also games for a nintendo ds (you spot a pink one on the shelf where the box once was), at least another dozen. you sigh and hand the box back to him.

“you really are a nerd, yeah?”

felix grins at you before giving you a sloppy kiss and carefully placing the box back on the shelf.

the tour continues as felix shows you his collection of twice albums and mangas and his deadpool mask he used for a performance once.

he further proves your point when he starts telling you just how rare one of his comic books are, but you indulge him. you think nothing is more rare than the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about his nerdy stuff—as if he brought down the whole galaxy into this very room—so you give him your full attention as he speaks.

later that night, when you’re both fed and dressed in comfier clothes, him and his younger roommates start playing a game. felix only said yes because you were showering (and you said it’ll take a while because you wanted to do a hair mask) but now that you’re back he asks the boys to pause it.

“no, no, it’s fine!” you say, not wanting to get on their bad side on your first night staying over. “maybe i can play on your ds in the meantime?”

seungmin snickers to himself, but he’s so focused on the game you’re not sure it was in response to what you said.

“i saw that you had nintendogs and i can definitely entertain myself with that while you guys finish your… mission or whatever it is.”

“y/n, let me stop you right there,” jeongin smirks, eyes still focused on the screen. “no one is allowed to touch hyung’s games so—“ felix elbows his friend, but that doesn’t stop him from talking, “—we’re only allowed to use the xbox when he’s with us and because we have our own controllers.”

“i almost died once before i was made aware of that rule,” seungmin adds.

you notice felix’s cheeks have gone red, his freckles dusting over the new colour. he’s always been extremely generous to you—if it was gifts or his time or his things. but if his games were a line for him you didn’t want to cross it, nor did you mean to.

“oh, of course!” you say quickly, “i can just do something else. you guys enjoy the game!”

you move to get up but felix stops you, placing a hand on your knee before he pauses the game. luckily they weren’t in the middle of a fight or anything, so the boys don’t protest too much.

felix places a kiss on your cheek before he gets up, walks to his room, and comes back with the console in his hand.

you can see seungmin’s jaw drop.

“what?” you blink up at felix as he places the game in your hand.

“you can start a new game and name it so i’ll know it’s yours for whenever you come over,” he smiles simply, nodding at you.

“unbelievable,” jeongin mumbles.

“i guess there really is such a thing as girlfriend privilege,” seungmin shakes his head.

felix smiles at you when you power up the console, kissing your temple when you shuffle closer to him. then he gets back to the game—not letting either of his roommates comment on the situation further.

seungmin… hoodies

“no,” seungmin says simply.

jisung was stood in your hotel room, begging seungmin to let him borrow that hoodie of his, the one with the red heart on the front. according to jisung, it’s exactly what his outfit is missing.

“what about that hoodie you wore yesterday?”

“no, the heart is what makes it because i’m gonna wear a red bandana and—“

“—so you’re stealing minnie’s whole fashion sense?” you chime in. seungmin smirks proudly at his friend as he raises his eyebrows.

“no, uh, i just wanna try something different,” jisung defends.

“if i may,” you try, offering your own fashion advice. jisung had a very nice cardigan with a hint of red in it, and you reminded him of that. he thought it over.

“a hoodie would be warmer though,” he tries again, flashing your boyfriend the best puppy eyes he could master.

“sorry, hyung,” seungmin shakes his head, “y/n already called that hoodie for tonight.”

jisung looks over at you, eyes wide.

“you couldn’t have said that earlier? i’ve been stood here wasting my time!” he rants some more as he leaves the room, letting the whole floor know about his inconsiderate friend that won’t let him live his fashion life to the fullest.

you laugh as his voice dies down slowly.

“so now i gotta find an outfit that works with that hoodie i guess?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

you did not call that hoodie for tonight at all actually, but if that was seungmin’s only excuse, you didn’t want to contradict him in front of his extremely stubborn friend.

“you could’ve just let him borrow it for tonight,” you try reasoning.

“nope,” seungmin pouts, “you’re the only one that should be wearing my hoodies.”

you laugh at him, wrapping your arms around him as you kiss his jaw softly.

“now i feel bad,” you tease, “i get bestowed with such an honour and i don’t even want your hoodie.”

he gasps. “you steal them all the time!”

“yeah,” you scrunch your face as you chuckle, “but now that you gave me permission i don’t want them anymore.”

“you’re so annoying,” he groans, pinching your sides. you yelp, jumping at the sensation before slapping his shoulder.

“i will wear it,” you say simply, “but only so ji doesn’t think you’re a liar.”

you walk towards the closet, where seungmin unloaded his whole suitcase into, and pick out the now infamous hoodie. you smile softly to yourself—it really is your favourite of his.

seungmin chuckles at your reaction, before sucking his teeth. “we’ll be late for dinner, come on.”

jeongin… personal space

jeongin does not like physical affection. he doesn’t do hugs or kisses or cuddles. that’s his rule.

but every rule has an exception and you’re the living proof.

when anyone else tries to touch him he squirms away, usually making a comment suitable for a spoiled child. but whenever you’re near him he does everything in his power to be closer to you.

if you’re walking down the street he’ll wrap his pinky around yours or sometimes he’ll fully grab your hand and sway your arms as you two walk.

he’ll play with your hair a lot too, always making sure to move it out the way before you start digging into your meal so it doesn’t get in your food.

if you’re watching a movie his thighs are in your lap and his arms around you. maybe he’ll even put his head on your shoulder if he’s a little sleepy that night.

and he refuses to fall asleep without his hand lazily sprawled across your body in some way or another.

the boys are definitely jealous, so they try their luck with jeongin after they see the physical affection between you two.

he still pushes them away with disproportionate disgust.

one time you were there to witness it and he fully grabbed you—using your body as a shield between him and chan’s attempted cuddles.

“no touchy!” he reminds him, grabbing onto your arms as he makes himself as small as possible to avoid chan reaching him.

“it’s not fair,” chan whines, “you let her touch you all the time!”

“channie-hyung,” jeongin pokes his head around your shoulder, ready to push you between him and his attacker at any moment if needed. “you realise it’s different when it’s you.”

“why?”

“because i love her,” he says it so simply, as if chan is silly for even needing that explanation. as if that isn’t the first time he’s said that out loud.

chan raises his eyebrows in surprise and you’re sure he’s just mirroring your shocked facial expression.

“you don’t love me?” chan reacts quickly, letting the tension die in the air as he insists he must hug jeongin now. ducking behind you, he grabs onto him and pulls him away from you. jeongin escapes from chan’s grip and they both start running around the room like absolute children until chan tackles him into a bear hug.

later that night you’re in jeongin’s bed, his hands locked behind your back as he pulls you fully on top of him.

“innie,” you start, as casually as you can, “you know if you don’t like them in your personal space you can just say that.”

“yes, i tell them all the time. no touchy.”

“i meant, you didn’t have to say that to chan just as an excuse,” you say, your finger wrapping around the string of his hoodie.

jeongin knits his brows as he looks at you.

“huh?”

“just… don’t feel like you have to lie.”

“lie? what are you talking about?”

he really doesn’t seem to remember what he said, so you swallow down the awkwardness and take a breath.

“you shouldn’t have told chan you lov—“ but before you can repeat what he said, jeongin’s eyes grow wide and his palm lands on your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else.

“i remember what i said now!” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “no, uh, no need to repeat it!”

you bite down on his palm gently, enough to get him to yelp and retreat his hand away so you can speak your mind.

“so you meant it?”

the redness on his cheek is enough of an answer, but jeongin decides to verbalise it, too. “no.”

“innie, don’t lie to me!”

he grabs you closer, practically shoving your head into his neck so you don’t see his warm face. he grunts.

“i, i didn’t, well, it’s just—“

“i love you, too.”

the grip on your waist loosens for only a moment before he squeezes you even closer to him, regardless of how your airways are coping.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x y/n #all.works #stray kids x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fics #bang chan x reader #bang chan x yn #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #ot8 x reader #stray kids ot8

[bigfatbimbo]

Hi, I just want to say your writing is amazing! Like I myself personally am a switch but your Dom fics fill me up with so much goodness it keeps me existing. (Also you've now converted me to a Vox simo as well how dare)

I do have a small request if you don't mind ofc. I'd love to see some sub!Lucifer and with one of the ideas with his shapeshifting boy cunt.

Perhaps he off handedly mentions he can change his sex if he wants and reader takes him up on the offer?

No pressure if you don't do this request! Please take care of yourself first and all the wonderful things

a/n — I love your profile pic! Also this shit is so hot to me but… unless you frequent this blog. I genuinely don’t know who this is for. Lowkey in my flop era.

warnings — boycunt, dom reader, sub Lucifer, oral sex, implied afab reader, use of a strap, aggressive fingering

summary — Lucifer alerts the reader that with his shapeshifting powers, he can also shapeshift his sex. This leads to the reader suggesting a fun night of toying with his pussy.

“I’m sorry, you can what?” You had asked in utter disbelief. 

“Change sex,” Lucifer said, far too nonchalantly, “Wait, you didn’t pick up on that? With the whole shapeshifting thing—”

He waves his hand around as if to jog your memory. 

“I mean, no, I did not pick up on that. It’s not exactly a common practice, Luci,” You laugh in genuine shock, and utter arousal at the idea.

“Well, what can I say?” Lucifer rubbed his chin as if he was thinking, before turning to you with a proud smile, “I’m a man of many talents.”

“You got that right,” You say, “So, we’re trying this out then tonight, right?”

He pauses, rubbing his neck, “I don’t know, it’s really been a minute since—“

“Come on, Luci, it’ll be fun,” you smile, “And very interesting. Oh, and hot, by the way.”

He pauses, considering the idea.

“You know, what the hell? Only if you really want to test it out, sweetie,” he chirps.

Oh, you really did. 

Later that night, after what felt like an agonizingly long day, it doesn’t take long for you to pull him aside from the hotel, into your shared bedroom. You kiss each other hungrily, not tearing into his clothes yet, but instead giving your attention to his lips and jawline.

He wraps his arms around your neck as you hoist him up and sit him down on the bed. Finally, then you start to unbutton his shirt.

He scoots back further on the bed, unclothed on the top half of his body and legs slightly open, inviting you.

You don’t hesitate to crawl towards him, fingers lightly grazing the area on his thighs closest to his crotch, before finally unbuttoning his pants.

You’re slow with your movements though, taking it one moment at a time, kissing him gently as you pull his pants down.

He catches your hand right before you tug down his boxer, “Oh, and darling. Don’t hold back.”

You smile slightly before feeling down the crotch of his underwear, making him suck in breath, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The bottom of his boxers are damp, you rub your fingers against the patch, “Wet already? I haven’t even done anything.” He hissed slightly at your teasing.

“A-ah, hurry up then,” he adds quickly, “Please.” 

You pull the waistband down, and sit back to look at what you’re dealing with.

You can’t help but gasp when you see his wet pussy, open and waiting for you. 

“Something wrong?” Lucifer sits up slightly, brows furrowing.

“You’re beautiful,” you say softly, meeting his eyes only for him to turn away.

Before he could give you a response, your fingers tease the outside of his cunt, making him softly whine in anticipation.

You make a show of bringing your fingers up to your lips and licking them slowly. Finally, bringing one down and easing it into Lucifer’s already glistening pussy.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, squirming slightly. You shush him and move your hand gently, swirling it around and relaxing him into it.

It doesn’t take long for you to tease his entrance with a second finger, looking at him first for reassurance.

When you get a shaky nod, you plunge your second finger in, stretching him out and making him whine.

Another finger is added, and Lucifer squirms restlessly, letting out breathy whines and you work your fingers in him, moving faster and faster than before.

“Oh fuck,” He moans, squeezing his eyes shut, “More, dammit, I need more. Please.”

He wasn’t fully gone, but if you kept going at the pace you were going at he would be soon. Unfortunately, you were running out of fingers.

You kept going for another few more moments, movements becoming more and more aggressive because, Lucifer couldn’t help but beg for it to be ‘harder’ or ‘faster.’

“Deeper, oh my god. Deeper, please,” he pleads, voice getting louder, surely carrying over from a few hallways.

Instead of immediately obliging, you pull your hand out of his pussy completely. He whines and practically tears up at the emptiness. 

“Patience, Luci. I won’t just leave you high and dry, don’t worry.” Well, maybe high and dry wasn’t the best analogy. 

You quickly reach over to the bedside table and open a drawer, pulling out your strap and getting situated.

Lucifer watches and whines with every movement you make, becoming more desperate the more he waits.

Finally you lean down to his legs, and kiss up his thighs. You suck at the soft skin on the upper hidden parts, drawing out whimpers from him.

“Please,” he whispers.

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me,” he whimpers and throws his head back into the pillow, arching his back when you lick up his hickeys, and almost make it to his cunt, before pulling away.

“All in good time, sweetheart,” you abruptly throw his legs over your shoulders and plunge into his tight cunt.

He lets out a loud moan and arches his back, hands coming up to his hair. You lap up his pussy hungrily and it doesn’t take long for him to fully wrap his legs around your head, pushing you in deeper.

You suck his swollen, soaking clit, eliciting excited whines from the other side of the bed. Subconsciously, your nails dig into to skin of his already bruised thighs while you eagerly eat him out.

He was babbling anything he could think of, and loudly at that, “More, more, darling. Don’t stop!”

You wouldn’t dare. Or at least not right now, your tongue buried deeply in him, sucking at his puffy clit, soaking him up completely.

Lucifer writhes beneath you, moaning and thrashing around rapidly. Although you don’t notice, his wings sprout out, making terribly flapping motions and causing a large breeze of him in the room.

You’re aware of this, and yet, you don’t pull away, yet. You wanted to keep tasting him, lick him dry, milk him for all he’s worth. 

He moaned wildly, practically wailing from the way your tongue continuously slammed against his clit.

“Close. Fuck, honey, i’m so close,” He cries, tearing boiling over his eyes and spilling through his fluttering lashes.

Finally, you pull away from him. He looks up at you in disbelief. He was Absolutely horrified at your neglect towards his pussy, if only for seconds. 

You only smile and lick your lips, positioning yourself to finally use the strap Lucifer had long forgotten about.

“Oh my god, finally. Yes please—“ 

You cut him off by thrusting into him in one slick motion, the cum coating his pulsing pussy making it easy. 

He yelps and whines, leaning up to you and wrapping his arms around your neck once again. You position him on your lap momentarily, letting his legs wrap around your torso.

Then you lean him back on the mattress, legs still slinked around your middle. You lean into his neck while you thrust into him at a rough pace. 

“Oh my, nngh, deeper. God, deeper,” Lucifer babbled incoherently.

You respond in gently shushes and praise, “That’s right sweetie, taking it so well. Your pretty pussy’s taking me so well, baby.” 

He whines, growling loudly, wings once again flapping rapidly and tossing objects every way off of nightstands. His eyes are bright red, but not noticeable when paired with how close his eyelids are to fluttering shut. 

Tears stain his pretty cheeks and he cries out for more, and you deliver. You go thrust quickly and aggressively, just as requested.

“My pretty boy. My princess. My sweet baby,” you coo sweet nothings into his ear while you fuck him roughly, breath becoming ragged from the friction and the restless motions.

His claws dig into your back and carve down it, “Oh, ‘m so close, so close. Nngh—“ 

You slam yourself further into his pussy, almost animalistically, evoking demonic and wild noises from Lucifer. You were sure people from down the street of the hotel could hear him, and you were glad.

Finally, he let out one final, deafeningly loud moan and released all over your strap. He clung onto you for long moments, catching his breath.

At last, he pulled back, looking at you starry eyed and lying back down on the mattress.

“We should…” he sighs dreamily, “…do that more often.

“Oh, honey,” you pull out but then drag your hand from his stomach to his hips, nearing his crotch. “What makes you think we’re done?”

He hisses in a breath, “Oh, wait too— too much. I can’t—“ 

“What is it you said to me earlier?” You tease his clit softly with your pointer finger, “You remember don’t you?”

He hesitates, blush rising as he looks at you.

“Don’t hold back.” 

a/n — I really hope this doesn’t flop guys 😰 lately I haven’t been doing as swell as usual, I dunno. 🤷‍♀️

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

[clockwayswrites]

I didn’t write two parts this week or anything. Nope.

But apparently you all have been very good/bad/tired/enby and deserve to be spoiled. Who am I to deny that?

Master List: Start of ‘Thirst Trap Lessons‘ wc 1220

Danny jolted up, going out of frame on the video call. "I have to seduce Red Hood."

"...dude," Tucker said after a moment. "He already likes you."

"As Jason."

"You just said they're the same person," Sam pointed out.

"That’s not important, not if they're pretending they're not. He's not, I mean. If I want to date Jason I have to convince Red Hood to let me and the easiest way to do that is to get with Red Hood too."

"Just pointing out that, again, he already likes you, my dude."

"As Jason. How is this confusing you?"

Sam sighed in that soul weary way that only someone who had been friends with Danny for years could sigh. "You're the one being weird. They're one person."

"With totally different lives.” How were they not getting this. They had been friends with him during his Phantom era. They had to understand the vigi life a little. Just because Jason and Red Hood were the ‘same person’ it didn’t mean they had the same needs or wants or even personality. “Nope. Need to seduce Red Hood."

"Danny, no." Two voices chimed back at the same time.

"Danny yes," he said, his smirk visible for a moment as he ducked down and ended the call.

He set his laptop aside and dug out his phone from between the couch cushions. It took him a moment to find the right number in his contact list.

"Danny?" The confusion in the voice was warranted. While they had all left Amity Park on surprisingly good terms, it was weird for him to outright call someone who wasn’t Sam or Tucker. Still, she was his best bet.

"Paulina,”Danny said. He knew that his grin was obvious in his voice and didn’t try to hold it back. “I need you to teach me how to be a lowkey thirst trap so I can seduce my accidental sugar daddy's boyfriend and date them both."

Silence hung heavy on the line. And then Paulina answered, "...oh we are so going shopping."

-

After some back and forth, Danny ended up going to Paulina in Metropolis. Paulina did demand to visit Gotham sometime, but pointed out she knew the stores in Metropolis already so shopping there would be way easier. This was especially true since she was in Metropolis to go to school for Fashion Merchandising.

Danny was pretty proud of her for that.

It was the two of them who had scattered to the East coast after graduation. A few had made it to the West coast, one down to somewhere in Texas, and the bulk had stayed in the Midwest. They weren’t all close, not by any means, but they tended to check in with each other in a sporadic group chat. Mostly it was talking about how freakishly normal everywhere else was.

Not that Danny could claim that about Gotham. (He thought the others might be sorta jealous of that.)

Still, even if it wasn’t a busy chat, it was a nice tether to have. It was a reminder that the insanity of their childhood had been real, but that they had made it out (mostly) alive despite it all. It was also a way to check in if they were being a little too weird— if the rest of the world really was that dulled.

“So,” Paulina started, smacking Danny’s hand away from where he was poking at his face mask again.

Apparently Thirst Trap Lessons started with a spa day.

“So?” Danny repeated, just to be an ass.

Paulina didn’t disappoint him and rolled her eyes. “So, now that we’re settled and soaking and alone, tell me about these people you’re trying to seduce.”

“Okay, well. Right. So this is a secret, which I won’t ask if you can keep because we’re Amity Parkers.” Danny said. He gave her the obligatory fist bump at that.

They had really come together as a class once the fact he was Phantom had become an open secret among the other students. None of them ever turned him in to the GIW or his parents. He liked to think it was more care than the fact that he had been revealed saving them all from being pulled into a realm of unending torture along with the school.

Amity Parkers knew how to keep secrets, they had proven that.

“They’re both the same person? Secret identity stuff. Just no one seems to know that.”

Paulina hummed. “Any people think they’re dating?”

“Apparently. One of them is Jason—”

“Sugar Daddy or boyfriend?”

“Sugar Daddy. Jason is… well, I’m pretty sure he’s rich? Even if he lives in Crime Alley.”

“Oh, so really a Sugar Daddy.”

Danny blushed red under his face mask. “I guess? Except I don’t think he knows he’s doing it! I sure didn’t. He just likes to help. He’s involved in a lot of charity stuff. But I’m pretty sure the money is his? Or his family’s? I don’t think it’s Red Hood’s.”

Paulina’s head let her head fall to the side so she could give Danny A Look at that. “Red Hood.”

“His other side. Sorta, um… anti-hero, vigilante, crime lord?” Danny said quickly in a squeak.

“Danny Fenton! What are you doing getting mixed up with vigilantism again!” She shouted, leaning over the edge of her tub to slap at his arm. “You were supposed to be—” Slap. “—done—” Slap. “—with—” Slap. “—that!”

“I am! Stop slapping me! I am done with it. I don’t help out or anything! I didn’t even know about the Red Hood part until Jason insisted I get some self-defense training because he was worried about me. And then I show up and bam— he’s also Red Hood!”

“And no one knows?”

“Not that I’ve met.”

Paulina was glaring at him again. “And just how did you notice?”

“He, um, might sorta be a Revenant?”

Slap. “Danny!”

“Come on Paulina, he’s amazing! He’s kind and confident and you should see his thighs,” Danny defended himself. “And… and since he’s died before maybe if this actually goes somewhere it means that he won’t…”

“Oh Danny,” Paulina said in a much softer tone.

Danny smiled a sad, lopsided little thing. “Don’t say my name like that. It’s something I have to think about. That’s just being realistic.”

Danny squirmed under Paulina’s gaze for a long minute before she finally looked away. “So one persona is a rich do gooder and the other a vigilante and everyone thinks they’re dating.”

“I know, wild how everyone just assumes that. They’re never even in the same room!”

“Not really,” Paulina said with a shrug. “Before we knew you were, you know, you, the whole school totally thought that Danny-you and Phantom-you were dating.”

Danny chocked on air. “What?!?”

“Like, I mean, so, you were always defending his name and Sam and Tucker would ask you if he was alright after ghost attacks and you got, like, all protective whenever the GIW was in town,” Paulina said. “So we thought you were dating you. I was totally jealous too.”

“Oh Ancients. Is that why everyone was asking me things like if Phantom felt cold to the touch?” Danny squeaked.

Paulina just laughed at him as Danny slid further down into his mud bath.

-----

AN: Ailithnight’s reply here was spot on that Danny was treating Jason and Red Hood like they had two separate needs even knowing they were one person, so I felt motivated to go off and finish up this scene that goes into his thought process for it. Please ignore that it really doesn’t have a start. I just really like the idea of Danny getting that it’s different in and out of the suit and while it’s not like it’s actually two personalities, there still are two very different needs and he has to step up and date both. It’s also nice that he can be more Phantom around Red Hood (Danny misses him a little).

I don’t know if I got Paulina’s Voice right, but I tried! I just find this concept hilarious, and I also think she’d understand masking, from a social side, maybe too well. Hope you all enjoyed being spoiled today and say delightful, darlings!

Good Squad, as you’ve named yourselves:

@addie-lover-of-stories​ @bathildaburp​ @d4ydr34min9​ @sometimesthingsfallapart​  @vythika96​ @worthlesswall​ @aroranorth-west​ @chrysanthemum9484​ @ver-444​ @impulsiveasshole​ @meira-3919​ @lazy-bouqet​ @cryinginthevoid​ @thegatorsgoose​ @cutelittlebeanie​ @blankliferain​ @ramblingkat​ @screamingtofillthevoid​ @themirrorghost​ @skulld3mort-1fan​ @may-rbi​ @nixthenerd​ @moonlupine​ @olivethetreebitch​ @overtherose​ @roseinbloom02​ @v-inari​ @nappinginhell​ @imchildish8775​ @leftmiraclechaos​ @mimilikey​ @mygood-bitch99​ @ailithnight​ @busterkeel​ @avelnfear​ @ravenshadow17​ @demigraceling-blog​ @maskygirl55​ @sroomheaddoc​ @undead-essence​ @desertbogwitch​ @addie-lover-of-stories​ @magic-pincushion​ @phantom-dc​ @lazy-bouqet​ @gin2212​ @meira-3919​ @apointlessbox​  @hollowgast1​ @cutelittlebeanie​ @friends-fam-fiends-hellothere​ @serasvictoria02​ @dulceringo​ @moonlupine​ @mushroom-jack​ @icedbluesoul​ @lumosfeather18581​ @impulsiveasshole​ @coruscateselene​ @escelia​ @firegirl108​ @roseinbloom02​ @crystalqueertea​ @booberrylizard​ @phoenixdemonqueen​ @shorterthanadverage​ @pyramaniac​ @seraphinedemort​ @fallenangle67​ @chaoticchange​ @soren1830​ @trippingovermyfeet​ @nutcase8691​ @themirrorghost​ @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff​ @a-salty-sal​ @guardianrex​ @dsabian​ @crystalqueertea​ @v-inari​ @8-29pm​ @consouling​ @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair​​

#dp x dc #dead on main #danny fenton/jason todd #just no jason this scene #the fic that I'm not writing

[ichorai]

amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)

track two of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader

synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

words ; 4.7k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him

main masterlist.

The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout. 

“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.

Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle. 

Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready. 

“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.

The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through. 

“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him. 

And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips. 

The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie. 

Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were. 

The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach. 

“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”

Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes. 

His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.

“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”

Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong. 

Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.

The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.

“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”

The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath. 

“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically. 

The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep. 

“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”

Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”

Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude. 

“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”

Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale. 

“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”

“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.

Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.

“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”

Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince. 

“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him. 

Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic. 

“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”

“Jace,” he softly said.

You blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”

A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet. 

“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”

You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself. 

Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing. 

Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you. 

“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.

Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”

Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”

To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”

“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame. 

Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room. 

You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.

The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.

“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”

Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”

“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”

Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”

You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”

“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”

“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. “That would mean the world to me, it really would.”

The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread. 

“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”

At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened. 

He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”

You nodded, eyes wide. 

“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you. 

“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…” 

Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours. 

The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift. 

Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.

And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you. 

It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else. 

Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.

“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall. 

With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.

Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner. 

The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.

“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”

His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.

“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.

The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent. 

You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.

And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.

“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed. 

Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”

A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck. 

His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.

A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.

“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted. 

Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need. 

His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.

“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit. 

Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.

Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”

Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure. 

“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure. 

He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.

Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.

“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.” 

Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.

“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”

“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock. 

He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust. 

You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit. 

The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream. 

Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.

Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses. 

He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.

Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.

You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids. 

“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”

You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.

The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone. 

Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?

Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before. 

Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.

My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven.  Yours, Jace

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon fluff #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #jace velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagines #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut

[iovetecchou]

That Funny Feeling ⧸ Dazai Osamu

༞ Contains...! !TW! this fic contains heavy topics such as: suicide, depression, anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. hurt/comfort type beat, hugging, gentle touches, hand holding, swearing, suggestive implications but NOTHING actually happened! kunikida is just silly, dazai really is a sweetheart in this ):

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,494 words.

a/n: if you have struggled with your own mental health past or present, just know that you are not alone. i love you and am so proud of you for still being here and pushing through each day, no matter how difficult that can be. never be afraid to rely on someone close to you when things become too much to bear, you are worthy of living and deserve to be loved.

Some people just aren't cut out for life. We are all dealt a hand, some cards interchangeable. But for the most part, they mold us; and make us who we are. They map out the rest of our lives. So what are you supposed to do when all the cards you've been handed don't play in your favor?

Even the interchangeable cards; you discard them only to pick up more rotten ones. Your judgment is poor, and your decision-making only gets you stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

You envy the people who were gifted better cards. People who were not condemned from the start. Those are the people who make something out of their lives, the ones who are deserving of taking up space.

You know this sounds self-deprecating, and yeah, it is. But to you, it's also logic. You think that's why you dislike Dazai Osamu.

When he talks so freely about death, his desire for a perfect suicide. It makes your stomach turn, not for obvious reasons, but for selfish ones. He plays off his pain as a joke so no one thinks twice about it when he asks a pretty stranger to "commit a double suicide" with him.

You try so hard to conceal your suicidal thoughts, hiding your depression behind a pretty mask. Showing up to work each day with a smile on your face and a "can do!" attitude. 

You and Dazai really are the same in that aspect, masking your pain so it's less noticeable to others around you. 

Your abdomen twists into knots when he talks so freely about suicide because it causes your mind to wander and your mask to slip. Dazai always seems to pick up on that slight change in you when it happens, too. His chestnut eyes bore holes into your profile from where he sits beside you. You can feel his eyes on you as you try to smile brighter, putting on a chipper face as Kenji updates you on how the cows on his farm are doing.

You hate it. It feels like he's reading your mind; retaining all your deepest darkest secrets. Does your face really give you away so easily? No... It can't be that. You've been working at the Detective Agency for a long while now, and since then, no one else has ever assumed something was wrong with you. 

If they only knew how pitiful your life really was. As much as you love all your colleagues at the Agency, you hate working. Waking up is exhausting, and you dread the repetitive daily routines you're forced to accomplish. On your off days, you sit at home alone- by choice. Interacting with others is draining, and when you're urged to participate in social activities, the anticipation and anxiety eat away at you until the day finally comes. 

Much like today, the day you've been letting eat away at you since the mention of a work party was brought to your attention. You practiced different smiles and laughs in the mirror, shaking your head and trying again when your "act" seemed too unnatural. You probably changed your outfit ten times before ultimately deciding on the same old thing you usually wore. 

Your hands were coated in perspiration as you balled your fingers, making a fist. You took in a shaky breath as you brought yourself to finally knock on Chief Fukuzawa's door. He welcomed you with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head, stepping aside to let you through. Immediately, you felt his eyes on you. Dazai watched your little performance as you greeted everyone, and when it was finally his turn to watch your act up close and personal- you froze. 

His eyes were too intimidating. You felt exposed in front of him. It irked you that he had such an effect on you. Why was it so easy to pretend with everyone else but him?

"Aww, where's my greeting?" Dazai smirked devilishly at you, raising his eyebrows slightly as he leaned in close. All-encompassing, invading your personal space. 

You remained quiet. You were on the outside looking in, screaming to yourself to say something- anything. Your gaze shifted to the floor as your hands came up to bunch up the hem of your shirt, rolling it between your fingers; an attempt to self-soothe. 

"I..."

"Oi! Stop teasing them, Dazai," Yosano shouted from the kitchen, plum-colored eyes still fixated on the fizzy concoction she began making for herself.

The sound of Yosano's strong voice ripped you from your stupor. Your head shot up, only to notice Dazai was still gazing at you- studying you. 

"I would do no such thing! I'm hurt that you think so low of me, Yosano!" Dazai's intense gaze finally eased up on you as he whipped his head around to face Yosano. The tall brunette man clutched a hand over his heart in feigned affliction. 

You took that as your opening to slip away, excusing yourself to the restroom. You hardly noticed the way Dazai's attention was drawn back to you at the sound of your hurried footsteps. "Hey- wait up!" 

You quickly pulled the bathroom door shut behind you. You could hardly look at yourself in the mirror, too ashamed of yourself for freezing up back there. The cool tile floor welcomed you as you sunk, curling into yourself. You hugged your knees as they drew closely into your chest. You could feel your rapid heartbeat in your throat, anxiety rising by the second.

"You know, I wouldn't be sitting on the floor if I were you. Let's get you up." Nothing registered until you felt firm hands grasp your biceps. A strong force drawing you up to rely upon your shaky legs. 

"Why- what are you..?" Your sentence fell off. You weren't entirely sure what you were trying to ask. Your mind was too convoluted with disappointment; shame for yourself. 

"The door was unlocked so I figured I'd let myself in! You weren't looking too hot out there, and I wanted to check up on you." Dazai's warm hands still cradled your biceps, untrusting the support your trembling legs half-heartedly gave you in your current state. 

"I'm fine," You chuckled out of nervousness before continuing, "I'll be out in a minute, so you can just go." You could tell by how Dazai looked at you that he didn't buy your lie, not even for a second. 

He let out a deep sigh, large palms moving up to your shoulders before he blurted out, "Stop, just- just stop. You're not fooling me, so quit it with the peachy-keen act. Why do you insist on hiding behind a facade?"

"Why do you?!" You shouted back. You brought your hands up to swat his hands off your shoulders. The shift between distress and rage made your legs feel more grounded. 

Dazai gaped at you for a moment. He genuinely looked taken aback before his face shifted into a tepid expression. He let his arms settle against his sides, his demeanor appearing more taut than usual.

"This isn't about me. Stop deflecting." His voice was eerily calm, making you feel unsettled. Seeing a more serious side to Dazai was far and few between for you. 

"But it is! I hate you... I hate you so much. You- you..." Your vision began to blur as tears spilled past your lashline and down your sullen cheeks. How embarrassing, you thought. Crying in front of the man that made your stomach turn. 

Dazai brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing away the onslaught of tears with the pad of his thumb. "I believe that hatred is displaced. You just don't want to acknowledge that."

Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as you drew your hand to grasp his wrist. You tugged with all your might to pull him from your cheek, but no give. Dazai stubbornly kept his large palm on your face. The warmth from his hand seared your skin. It was neither comforting nor unpleasant. Just... unfamiliar.

"You're wrong, I hate you-"

"No, you hate that you see yourself in me."

Your hand fell from his wrist. He was right, and deep down, you knew that. But you refused to admit it. It was shameful. You liked to hate Dazai because it took attention away from the real problem at hand, yourself. 

Dazai let out a sigh as he continued to wipe away your tears. "Tell me to stop if you hate it, but I'm going to hug you now." Before you could process, Dazai embraced you. His hand that was caressing your face only moments ago now cradled your neck. His other arm wrapped around your frame, enveloping you.

"I understand your pain well... I can see myself in you too. But I don't despise you, you know. I actually... worry for you. You try so hard to pretend that everything is fine. It must be exhausting."

It felt like your heart was being squeezed, as if your ribcage was collapsing in on itself. His words shot right through you, as did the guilt. You had been so unfair toward Dazai up until now. Using your displaced disdain for him as a distraction because you were too much of a coward to hold yourself accountable.

It ached so much to come to terms with. Your arms felt heavy as you pulled them up to wrap around Dazai's lanky frame. You quietly sobbed into his chest, grasping your hands into the back of his shirt desperately; as a small child would cling to their mother. 

Dazai hummed softly into your hair, welcoming the silence with open arms; as he did you. You were sure all your colleagues were wondering why Dazai and yourself had been in the restroom for so long, but you hardly cared at this very moment. 

For the first time, in a long time, you felt seen. Like you didn't need to hide when Dazai was in your presence... because even if you did- he would know. Being vulnerable felt similar to what you imagined walking a tightrope hung across two tall skyscrapers entailed. So, to say you were apprehensive about this was an understatement. 

However, in the same breath, it felt freeing. It took a little bit of weight off your shoulders to share your burdens with another person. But never in a million years did you think the person who brought you solace would end up being Dazai Osamu. 

"I'm sorry, Dazai- I'm so fucking sorry. I-"

"It's okay. Believe me, I treated people a lot worse than this from my own displaced hatred," Dazai interrupted. Caressing your hair softly, hyperaware of the wet feeling seeping through his shirt and smearing over his skin from your tears before he continued, 

"Just... just promise me you'll talk to me if it ever becomes too unbearable to handle on your own. I know how it sounds coming from me, I'm a hypocrite- huh? But trust me when I tell you… you are deserving of this thing we call living. Even if you can't see it yourself, I can... and I will remind you of that fact until I'm blue in the face if I have to." 

You pulled back from Dazai's chest as you sniffled, eyes scanning his stoic face. He smiled at you softly, rubbing up and down the sides of your arms in a comforting way. "There you are. I was beginning to think you cried your face off!" You chuckled at his dumb quip, letting your fingers untangle from the cloth adorning Dazai's back.

"Well, this is embarrassing... and I'm sure at this point all the others think were up to no good in here." It was Dazai's turn to laugh as his hands drifted lower, grasping yours softly. Your fingers intertwined as a lopsided grin painted your face.

"So let 'em! Who cares? The only thing that matters is that your heart is beating and you're here. Still standing in front of me." Your smile dropped slightly, the urge to cry bubbling back up, making your throat tighten.

"Dazai," You tightly squeezed his hands within your grasp. Scared that if you loosened your grip for even a second, this moment would be gone before you could say everything you needed to. "I'm really glad you're still here, too."

Dazai closed his eyes for a moment, his smile wavering. "There's so much pain in the world... sometimes it's hard not to notice it. I couldn't shut it out every time I felt your distress. That's why I kept a close eye on you all this time. I'm not just some creep with a staring problem,"

You both laughed at that sentiment before he continued, "I know with each day those painful thoughts are waiting for you. But it's not only that, there's also possibilities. Possibilities you can only discover as long as you're alive."

Your hands still clutched his with great force. His words caused you to cry once more as Dazai's eyes softened. He quietly cooed at you, whispering "don't cry," so gently, it was almost inaudible.  

"Dazai... I hope you know the same can be said for you, and your life," You paused, trying to swallow that lump in your throat before you continued. "I... want to help you- help you live. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but as long as you're still here I will do whatever I can to help you. I swear it."

Your tear-filled eyes bored into his chestnut ones. Desperately hoping your words got through to him. Dazai inhaled a shaky breath, eyebrows raising slightly. His lips curved into a tight-lipped smile before he let out a small chuckle. "You're really something else, you know that? Not even ten minutes ago you were shouting about how much you hate me. Now we're best buds... how cute!"

You knew he was deflecting, you guessed being vulnerable was just as daunting to him as it was for you. Before you could say anything more, the door flung open. Both Dazai and yourself whipped your heads in the direction of Kunikida shouting. 

"Dazai! Just what do you think you're doing- wait a damn minute! What did you do to Y/N to make them cry?! Get away from them this instant you damn pervert!"

Kunikida gripped Dazai by the collar, dragging him out of the restroom. When your hands untangled from his, you felt uneasy. There was so much more you wanted to say, but it would just have to wait... for now. 

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at the sound of Dazai shouting for you to help prove his innocence from presumably the living room. For the first time since you stepped into the bathroom, you looked at yourself. Taking in your disheveled state.

Ah, there it is again. That funny feeling. 

don't accuse me of making this a self-insert, i will cry!

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai x reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #dazai angst #dazai osamu angst #dazai osamu bsd #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you

[sarawritestories]

Starfall With The General Pt 2.

CassianX F Female

A/N: I am going to go ahead and let you know this is my first time writing smut. I fully anticipate this being bad but I tried my best, but that aside I am really proud with how this part came out! Also thank you for sending all the love on my first Cassian story! As always feedback is welcomed!

Find Part 1 Here

Summary: Finding out Cassian, the Lord of Bloodshed, your best friend is your mate, the two of you spend the evening embracing the bond.

Warnings: SMUT NSFW (Minors DNI), teasing, (Fem Oral sex and m/f sex), disgustingly cute fluff, Brief mentions of grief

Word Count: 3.3K

Cassian’s gave you a full smile that made you grateful he had a toned arm wrapped around your waist as your legs began to quiver. “I have been waiting for you to say those words for so long, Princess.” He gives your nose a light kiss, “That’s the other reason, I waited, I was hoping it would be a mating gift not a Starfall gift.” Cassian separated from you getting a better look at your face tucking stray lock of hair behind your ear. “If you wanted to accept the bond that is –“

You reach up on your tiptoes and silence him with a kiss of your own. He wrapped his other arm around your waist and squeezed. You pulled away, “I’ve loved you for so long Cassian,” the confession caused the Illyrian to blush, and you placed a hand on his cheek that he leaned into, his eyes shutting. “My Mate.” Cassian groaned at the words, you kissed his cheek and whispered, “My mate,” a kiss on the forehead, “My Mate,” he growled his nails clawing at your back, the sound rumbling against your check. Kissing his other check, “My handsome,” Kiss on his nose, “Kind,” peck on his eyelid, “Strong,” then the other eyelid lowering yourself, feeling how your words were affecting him. Your mouth hovering over his, gripping the nape of his neck, “Mate.” You mold your lips to his and there is another growl reverberating from Cassian’s chest.

The General lowers his hands and grips the globes of your ass giving it a squeeze, and lifting from the ground you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. His growing arousal rubbing against your center causing you to moan in his mouth as he makes his way back into the bedroom.  He lays you gently on the bed and grazes his one hand up to your breast and squeezed sending you into state of bliss and his other hand lowers and grips your thigh exposed from the slit of the dress and he pulls away from you. His gaze primal no hint of hazel in his eyes, “This dress is downright sinful, Sweetheart.”  He slides the hand that gripped your breast grazed upward, past your locket and his eyes drifted to the red jewel on your choker his fingers gripping the gem his siphons singing in response, “Was your goal to let all of Velaris know you’re mine by wearing this?” Your eyes fluttered shut as the hand on your thigh rose nearing the apex of your legs, your hips lifting in hopes he would move them closer.

He chuckled and removed his hand from your leg and your eyes flashed open and gave him a pout. He winked at you and you thought that your heart was going to give out as he wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed lightly, “I asked you a question, Sweetheart.”

Your hand went up to wrap around his wrist your thumb drawing circles on his pulse. “Mor picked this outfit, “She waited a beat and gave him a playful smirk, “Though Azriel did say I could have the Lord of Bloodshed on his knees worshipping me tonight.”

He squeezed your neck slightly his eyes darkening, “Did he now?” you nodded, he smirked his eyes glinting. The General released her grip and helped her stand from the bed, spun you around and unzipped the dress and dragged it over your hips and let it fall to the floor, your black laced panties the only thing covering you. “Turn around, Y/N,” on instinct you faced him you’re his nostrils flaring as he takes in your bare breast, and he hooks his fingers on the elastic of your panties.

He hummed as his wings flared out the moonlight highlighting the membrane of his wings and entranced you, “Y/N,” Cassian’s gruff voice brought your gaze back to his. He smiled a primal smile that caused heat to reach down to your core as he closed the distance and pressed his lips to your ear, “Never say another male’s name in bed again,” The sound of fabric ripping causing your heart rate to spike as Cassian ripped your underwear in half “Unless you want your panties in your mouth.”

“Yes, General.” You purred giving a playful smirk.

Cassian darkened stare lightened for a moment, and he flicked your nose, “Smart ass. Lay on the edge of the bed for me.”

You do as you’re told and lay on your back your elbows holding your weight to keep you up to watch him, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Cassian took a step back and took off his shirt exposing his toned tan muscles glistening in the moonlight the silver scars glittering his skin, each one. He threw it over on the chair in the corner and slowly turned back to you and caused your breath to hitch. You almost passed out as he got on his knees and began to crawl to her. The tattoos across his chest resembling flames rising with his slow languid movements. “Cassian,” You whispered in an exhale.

He reached the bed, and his calloused hands gripped your ankle and peppers kisses up your leg and you moaned, the Lord of Bloodshed paused at your thigh and his hazel eyes met yours, “Say my name again, Princess,” and he held your gaze as he grazed his tongue up her thigh.

You toss your head back and whimpered, “Cassian,” he hummed against your skin as his breath hovered over your folds. “Please, Cassian.”

Cassian gave a long languid lick against your folds, “Hmm I like the way you beg,” you mewled as he began to devour you. Your clit was met with licks and nips causing your back to arch. Cassian presses his forearm against your torso and presses you down to the bed.  He as he sucks your clit, he slips a finger in your folds and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Cassian began to slowly move his finger pumping and you clutched the sheets. Cassian inserted a second finger, and his movements became in sync with his tongue. Sweat began to form on your brow and completely unraveled as he curled his fingers hitting that sweet spot just right.

You tried wiggling your hips to move faster but the arm on your hips wouldn’t budge, and as stars sparked in your eyes you screamed out your mate’s name as pleasure washed over you. Cassian removed his fingers and replaced it with his tongue as you rode out your orgasm. When your body relaxed Cassian rose again and kissed up your torso and up until he reached your lips once more. You could taste yourself on his mouth and bucked your hips and he huffed, “You are insatiable,” He whispered his hazel eyes meeting yours, “my beautiful girl.”

You rolled your hips again, at him calling you his girl, and you grazed your nails down his torso and grip the edge of his pants. He lightly grips your wrist and kisses the inside of your palm maintaining eye contact with you. His gaze causes you to writhe, “Cassian, please.” He releases your hand and removes his pants, and he crawls back onto the bed, his hands finding yours, interlacing his fingers to yours. “Cass,” you pant, as he teases at your entrance.

“I love you, Sweetheart.” He says before thrusting into you, giving you little time to adjust to him. Cassian began leaving open mouth kisses against your neck as he pulls out and slams back and your head falls back in a silent scream. He released your hands, and you wrapped your arms around his back avoiding, your nails clawing at his back trying to bring him closer to you. Cassian flared his wings in response.  Cassian’s lips trail down, and his teeth grazed over your nipple before taking it in his mouth. His fingers pinching and groping your other breast.

Pleasure was building as Cassian’s thrust moves in tandem with his tongue against your breast, and your hands move to the General’s hair and gripped it tight, and he moaned against your nipple, releasing it with a pop, he picks up the pace as he grips the back of your thigh and wraps it around his waist. His hair still in your grip you pull his face toward yours and pecked his lips, “I love you, Cassian.” You whispered over his lips.

Cassian’s face gleams with sweat as he smiles and his thrust becoming erratic, “Say that again, Princess.”

“I love you,” you moaned as his hand slides down and his thumb begins to rub against your clit and your eyes shut as your back arches as pleasure takes over. Cassian at the same time moans as his release fills your pussy.  His wings are trembling as he rides out both of your orgasms.

Cassian nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, and you wrapped your hand around the nape of his neck and rubs circles with her thumb. Cassian hums in contentment as the two of you lay entwined for a while. The Lord of Bloodshed snakes an arm around your shoulders, and he slowly pull out of you, protesting with a whine at the emptiness you were feeling.  Silently, slid an arm behind your knees and hoisted you up. Laying your head on his shoulder you let your eyes droop as he makes his way to the bathroom where the house has already had a bath ready.

He lowers you in the tub and the warm water hits your skin and you sigh. You open your eyes and see that he is getting soap and oils prepared, “Are you not joining?”

He looked over at you and the love in his features made you grateful you were sitting. Your heart was racing, the gold bond between the two of you shining. He cups your cheek, and his thumb strokes your cheek. “Another time, Sweetheart,” you nodded as he removed his hand, “wet your hair for me?” You adjust until you can tip your head back to get your hair submerged underwater.

Cassian rubs the soap in between his hands, he pats the edge of the tub, and she leans your head back and he begins to lather the soap in your hair, and you groaned as he continues washing your hair. You open your eyes the warm glow of the fae lights casting shadows on the ceiling thoughts of the events of the night swirling in quick images. “Cass?”

“Hm?” he responded as he massages your scalp.

You bit your lip debating asking the question lurking on your mind, “When did you know?”

You didn’t need to elaborate when he began rinsing your hair. “The day Rhys was taken,” He stated matter of factly as he ran his fingers through your hair gently pulling the tangles bunching at the ends.  You tried to level your breathing as he continued, “Az had just told you what happened and you locked your eyes with mine, tears beginning to gather there, and it snapped, and you barreled into my arms and sobbed.” You remained silent.  “I was so angry with the Cauldron and the mother. Why would they have the bond snap at this point when we lost Rhys? You didn’t need the pressure of accepting a mating bond and mourning the loss of a friend. I also wanted you to come to terms with this bond on your own.”

 He pressed his palm against her back, a silent request for you to sit up and you move your hair swiping it over your shoulder. A warm rag reached her back as he began washing her body, “This explains why I was always aware of you following me on my walks.” He chuckled as he grazed the rag across your arm. Your brows furrowed in thought, “Was that the reason you were following me, because of the bond?”

Cassian’s hand paused at the question, he hooked a finger under your chin forcing you to look at him, “Absolutely not. Do you honestly believe I would have just let you cope with Rhys being taken alone? Or did you not know that I was in love with you well before Amarantha?”

Your eyes widen slightly, “You were?”

Cassian winced, “I guess I wasn’t as obvious about it as I hoped.” He resumes washing your body, “I thought you were beautiful when we met you in the forest that day. The fierce determination in your eyes, but then we brought you back to Velaris and you had asked me to train you, and we had grown close, and I got you to laugh for the first time since you escaped your former lover.” You heard him drop the rag and he held out a hand for you to grab. You take it and he helps you up. Cassian wraps a soft towel around your torso and stole a kiss his hands gripping your arms. He pulls away and says, “that gorgeous laugh was when I knew that my heart was yours and would forever be yours.”

Your breaths were shallow, at the confession, you watched as your mate grabbed a bottle of oil and led you back to the bedroom where a pair of sleeping pants and a nightgown appeared on the bed. Cassian chuckled and placed the oil on the bed and put on the sweatpants as you slip off the towel and put on the nightgown it accentuated your breast and fell to the middle of your thighs. You grab the oil and stare at your shirtless mate tying his hair up in a bun causing you to bite your lip. You gaze down to the oil and grab it “On the bed, General, my turn.”

Cassian winks at you as he finishes tying his bun, “As you say, Princess.” He moves to lay on his stomach and lets his wings sprawl out. You get on the bed and kneel beside him. You put some of the oil on your hand and warm before you rub his shoulders and begin kneading out the knots there.

A few breaths go by before you say, “That day in the forest,” you felt Cassian still as you proceeded to massage his back the raised skin of scars, he has earned in battle kissing the pads of your finger, “I felt like I was at my breaking point when you three found me, I never thought I would be able to love or be loved. I thought I was broken. The way you held out your hand and gave me a warm smile, I knew I was in danger.” You could hear him snort and you pinched his back, “I was in danger of finding hope in that smile, ass.” The chuckling stopped as you moved to massage the patch of skin between his wings careful not to touch the sensitive membrane. “Though you never looked at me like I was someone who needed fixing, someone who needed to be put back together.”

Another low moan as you eased the tension in his back though Cassian adjusted his head only, so his words were clear for you to hear, “You were never broken, Y/N. You never needed to be fixed.”

You lean down and kiss between his wings in appreciation, “I know that now, I didn’t at the time. Though I did know I wanted to be closer to you. So, would you believe me if I told you that was my whole motivation in asking you to train me.” You move to his lower back, and you saw there was a shit-eating grin on his face at the confession, “I never wanted to risk the friendship we made and the strong bond we already had.” A pause. “I couldn’t handle the idea that you would reject me, and the gnawing thought that I was not worthy of your love.” Your hands laid idle at the confession; Cassian shifted to a sitting position his hazel eyes meeting yours and his face fell. “Rhys, told me I needed to be brave, and tell you how I feel.” A tear fell on your cheek and your mate was quick to swipe it away as you gave a pathetic chuckle, “He said if you returned my feelings we would celebrate with a drink and if you rejected me, that there was a 2000-year-old aged wine that had our name on it in his office.” You averted your gaze, finding your hands interesting. You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose, “So I did, I entered the library of the townhouse,” you winced at how unsteady your voice sounded as more tears threatened to fall, “You and Az had solemn look on your faces, and I knew something was wrong.”  Cassian scooped you in his arms and you laid your head on his shoulder breathing in his scent. His wings cocooned us providing an extra level of warmth and comfort. “You told me Rhys was taken and all those feelings of helplessness rushed back to the surface like the day in the forest.” Soothing circles were rubbed against your back as your mate pressed his cheek against the top of your head. “Though this time, I made sure that despite my feelings, I would make sure that those around me would not feel the way I was feeling. Pushed my feelings toward you aside, to help our people, to do something Rhys would be proud of. So I did.”

At the end of the day that is what kept you getting out of bed those 50 years. Putting in the work to help the people that Rhys loved dearly, that had welcomed you with open arms. In hopes that he would come home one day and be proud of you for all the work you did.

You must have left your shields down as a familiar voice filtered in your head, “I am so proud of you, Y/N.”

“Busy body,” you retorted as you could hear his laughter.  “Love you, Rhys.”

“Love you too, Darling,” There was pause, “Try not to keep my general up all night, will you.”

You rolled your eyes and sent him an image of you flipping him off, “You’re Insufferable, Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” There was one more pause, “I am happy for both of you, you two bring out the best in each other.” And with that your Highlord, Brother, best friend left your mind, and you were quick to put your shields up.

A kiss was planted on the top of your head, “Where did you go?” Cassian’s voice grumbled a look of concern in his eyes.

You leaned in to kiss him and he didn’t protest you could feel the bond thrumming as you pulled back, “Oh just dealing with a busy body Highlord.” Cassian growled and placed a hand over his beating heart and how it raced at her touch. “Relax, my thoughts were just loud, and my shields were down, he told me not to keep you up all night.”

Mischief was in your handsome mate’s eyes, “He’s an idiot if he thinks I’m leaving your side tomorrow anyway.” Butterflies trembled in your stomach at the commitment, “I mean by the sound of it, we have well over 50 years of time to make up.

You smirk, “Should we start now?” You question, quirking a brow. Cassian’s smile is perfectly primal as he cups your cheek and crashes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss and places you on the bed, clawing off your nightgown and the room is filled with the sounds of moans and proclamations of love.

Later that Night

Cassian was watching as your chest rose and fell as you were asleep, unable to prevent himself he let his knuckles graze your cheek. You stir slightly only to nudge closer against his bare chest searching for warmth. His arm wrapped around your waist tucking you closer to him along with his wing. He took in your beauty, how he longed for this night, to have you in his arms and finding comfort in his embrace. He smiled and kissed your sleeping forehead. His mate. His beautiful, selfless, kind mate was in his arms, his brother was finally home and for the first time in 50 years the General drifted into a peaceful dreamless sleep.

Bonus Part

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #acotar

[kissitbttr]

omg can i ask for reader and miguel’s baby turning 1, and they celebrate the birthday, like how kylie jenner did for her precious babygirl stormi🥹 like miguel getting his precious daughter large toys, lots of performers, large bouncy houses, blasting spanish music, and cutting the cake, i really hope u see this ask🥹🥹

side note: ur like my fav tumblr fanfic writer rn, you’re so gorgeous and i hope you have a good day🩷🩷

AAA THIS IS A VERY CUTE IDEA ANONNNN

my note: i am?? *gasps* you're so sweet!! i am so honored my lovieeee!! thank you so much🥺

-

one thing. she has only asked miguel for one thing and he just dismissed her like that!

the two of them had previously discussed in matters of their baby girl's upcoming birthday, and she had told--no-- threatened him to keep things simple and baby-proof,

guess, she should've known that he was prone to never really listen

"you are so. dead, o'hara" she grumbles, scanning over the party decorations in their backyard. the twenty-ish big pink presents put neatly in the corner, a princess castle bouncy house, a DJ deck, and food catering?

there are already people stopping by and busying themselves at the party, she finds a couple familiar faces like peter, jess, even the kids gwen and miles.

he puts his hands up in defense, staring at her with a playful smile. "I know I know I went a little bit overboard--"

"a little?!"

"but querida, come on" he snakes his hands around her waist, tugging her closer but her eyes aren't even on him. "it's our baby girl's first birthday-- I had to give her all"

"what would a baby need a DJ deck for anyway?" she asks with a frown,

''we can set it aside and use it for a band.. i already have two ready for the party"

her jaw drops open. "a band?!"

''ay okay stop with the dramatic expressions, princesa" he chuckles, kissing her forehead.

shaking her head, she replies "you already got her two barbie houses, a pink range rover for kids, brand new stuffed animals that look like they escaped from the damn zoo, Disneyland tickets and a cinderella's carriage baby crib... you spoil her too much"

he shrugs, "like i told you... she's my baby"

"and how much have you spent for all of that, hm?"

he envelopes her hands between his, kissing the knuckles to ease her. "don't worry about that. got too much money in my bank account and I will use it to spoil the fuck out of both of you."

a light smile spreads across her face. "she wouldn't even remember half of this miggy, you know that?"

"we'll record it and everything" he shrugs, looking around the party feeling proud of his work. "I want her to have the best birthday ever. not just this but the next one and the next one and the next"

she can't help but feel her heart soften. he is so full of love every time he talks about their baby, an ultimate girl dad.

"i can't imagine what you will do for her quinceanera"

he winces at that, head shaking at the thought. "don't remind me. i want our baby girl to stay little forever"

she chuckles at that, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his chin. "what an amazing father you are, my love"

his cheeks warm at the compliment, glancing down at her to give her a grateful smile. one that speaks how glad he is to have her by his side, to call her his, to hear those words coming from her lips.

the sound of a precious giggle distracts them both, craning their heads toward the source of the sound and seeing jess holding their baby girl in her arms. dressed in a pretty pink dress with tiara on top

y/n reaches out to make grabby hands at jess. "hello pretty girl! gimme gimme" picking sofia from jess's grip, earning a cute giggle from her,

"she couldn't stop pulling at peter's hair-- your baby's got quite a grip" she mentions before walking away with a smile,

miguel snorts at that, silently patting himself on the back for what his baby had done,

cradling her closer to her chest, y/n fakes a gasp. "eso hizo, no es asi? uncle peter probably deserved it"

sofia babbles more, clapping her chubby hands at the two of them. miguel chuckles at the baby's cute antics and the way his wife talks in a baby voice,

a lucky bastard he is,

"daddy did this all for you, mamas-- aren't you happy? yeah?" she coos once more, bringing sofia closer to Miguel,

''come here pretty girl" miguel's hands move to grab her tiny body, picking her from his wife's grip. a sigh of contentment escapes from his lips. "my little princess... aren't you the prettiest baby I have ever seen, hm? you got that from your mami"

y/n eyes the interaction between the two of them, her finger moves to sofia's hand which she grips it.

"she is so fluffy.. we have a chunky baby"

miguel frowns, feigning a fake offensive look. "you calling our baby fat, mi amor?"

rolling your eyes, you scoff at him. "she's cute like this... i like it..." she gives a loud smooch on her baby's cheek making her giggle more,

miguel bobs sofia lightly in his embrace, inhaling the scent of her shampoo while keeping his eyes on y/n.

none of this was ever planned. miguel had no clue that being married and having a baby would be on his bucket list. if someone would've told him four years ago that he would eventually settle down and have a family, he would tell that person to fuck off and how crazy that idea sounds. because marriage wasn't his thing,

but now? he would kill the entire universe for his girls

"what are you thinking, papi?" she asks, head tilting in curiosity when his eyes won't move away from her,

he stays silent for a moment, pressing his cheek against sofia's head as she toys with the collar of his shirt,

"vamos a tener a otro bebe" [let's have another baby]

-

i hope this is okay!! xx

#miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara drabbles

[specialagentlokitty]

Bobby Nash x teen!reader - always proud of you

Hey can you write a Bobby x reader fic where he is like a father figure for reader. One night at a the station they are both in the kitchen or at the couch and he says that he is proud of her and how far she has come. She is really happy about that especially because her parents aren't proud of her, so she is happy Bobby is. - Anon 💜

You spent a lot of your free time at the station because of your work experience for school, and after that finished you found you enjoyed it there so kept going back.

The 118 loved having you there, and most days after school you could be found sat with them until you had to go home.

Though they did question your constant appearance there, they didn’t push you into talking to them, but Bobby growing concerned for you did.

He knew about everything, he was almost like a dad to you, and he did everything a father was supposed to do with his daughter with you.

You learned so much from him, especially about cooking, and it was your favourite pastime.

Just like now, Bobby was teaching you how to make a lasagna.

“Is it supposed to be this messy?” You asked.

“No (Y/N), but you’re learning so it’s okay, we can clean it up.” He chuckled.

You laughed sheepishly, and carried on stirring the filling that was cooking on the stove.

“How do I know it’s done? Can I burn it?”

“You can burn anything if you try hard enough, but you know it’s done because the mince won’t be pink anymore.”

“Right, right.”

You turned back to the mince, and then you looked at Bobby.

“What if I finish cooking it in the sauce, will it still cook?”

Bobby smiled, handing you a bowl from the side.

“It will, good thinking, then the sauce heads up at the same time. While that’s cooking we can do everything else.”

You nodded and walked over to help him with what he was doing.

“Did you complete your project?”

“Nearly, I’ve just got a few more things to do, but my teacher said he’ll help me in the morning with it.”

Bobby nodded his head, letting you take over from him so he could check on the food currently cooking.

“Are you going to tell me what it’s on yet?”

“Nope, it’s a surprise. I’m going to show you after school.”

You beamed at him and carried on what you were doing.

Bobby began explaining everything he was doing, and he got you to watch.

He did the first half, then got you to do the second half, which was messy, but nothing was perfect, especially when it came to cooking a dish for the first time.

And he reminded you that it was okay, it didn’t have to be perfect, as long as you had fun and things were fully cooked it was okay.

He put it in the oven while you began to clean up the mess you had made.

“How did you get lasagna sheets all over the floor?” He laughed.

“I may have knocked the box over.” You snickered.

Bobby chuckled, grabbing the brush so he could clear it all up.

“We’re you this messy when you were learning to cook Bobby?”

“Oh I was far worse, there was always food everywhere.”

You looked at him before going back to washing the dishes.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true, food everywhere, on the floor, counters, all over.”

“You’re lying.”

“I would never.”

Bobby gentle moved you aside so he could take over, and you began to dry the dishes so they could go straight away.

When you were done, you sat at the table so you could do some homework, and Bobby made you a hot chocolate.

“Bobby I don’t understand this.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Walking over, he sat next to you, going through the question step by step so you understood and watched as you figured it out.

“That’s it, good job.”

“Thank you.” You smiled.

He smiled at you, placing his hand on your head, ruffling your hair as he got up.

“I’m proud of you.”

You stared at him in shock.

“You are?”

Bobby closed the oven and turned to you.

“Of course I am, you’re doing so amazing at everything and you’re giving it your all, you should be proud of yourself, because I know I for one am proud of you.”

You beamed from ear to ear at him.

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course you can, come here kiddo.”

You jumped up, running over to hug him.

You hadn’t really had anybody say they were proud of you, so to hear it from Bobby, a man who had taken over a father figure role for you meant so much.

Bobby smiled at you, gently patting your back as you hugged him tightly.

He was so proud if you, and he was sure that if you were his daughter he would tell you that every single day

#911 fic #911 fandom #911 fox #911 imagine #911 fanfic #911 x reader #911 x you #Bobby Nash #Bobby Nash x reader #Bobby Nash x you #Bobby Nash imagine #Bobby #Bobby x reader #Bobby x you #Bobby imagine

[therapycat21]

All Right Now Part 6

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description: The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None

Social Media AU

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal!? it's a huge deal” Travis says with wide exaggerated eyes I sigh rubbing my forehead “Baby It’s really not” I reply to him he gives a dramatic and loud sigh making a smile break out on my face “You having your own documentary isn’t a big deal?” he questions. I shake my head “I don’t know, that means they’re in my home they’ll try to video everyone even your family. I don’t know if I want that.” I tell him my fear, He sighs rubbing his forehead “How about this, I’ll ask them how they feel about it okay?” he suggests.

It makes me feel a little better with Travis checking if they are okay with it, I don’t want them to feel like I’m invading their privacy especially because I’ve been in with their family for a few months now. I nod from where I lay on his chest. “Okay, thank you” I whisper before we both fall into a nap.

A few hours later 

Me and Travis are both sitting at the kitchen counter after our Facetime call with the producers from Apple TV telling them our decision.

 “I’m proud of you, you know that right?” Trav says breaking the silence, I look up from where my head is resting on my hands and give him a small smile as a response “Thank you, I really am excited, just super nervous ” I move from the counter towards him, settling into his warmth “I know, but you’re gonna kill it, I know you are” he says. We talk a bit more before deciding to get ready to head out for dinner. 

We’ve been at dinner now for about thirty minutes before Travis slightly nudges to get my attention “paps on your left outside” he tells me, I look over seeing them, instead of trying to ignore them, I decided to give them a small wave and smile in acknowledgement. I turn back my attention to Trav to see him hiding a grin “what?” I question he shakes his head sporting a slightly larger smile “nothing It’s just I love that instead of ignoring them and being rude you push that aside to be nice to them when they’re the ones invading the privacy” he responds.

“It’s easier to be nice and kind to someone then going through the trouble to be rude to them, its their jobs and I cant be ignorant to the fact people have their own issues and don’t have the same lifestyle as us.” I slightly ramble. I’ve seen my parents go through the struggle of living paycheck to paycheck (barely) so after I got big in this world, it has been my mission to make sure it doesnt happen to them again. I look up after remaining silent for a few seconds. I see a look on his face I’ve never seen before I tilt my head in question “Travis? Are you okay?” he remains staring at me before nodding his head slowly. He takes a deep tense breath rubbing his chin.

“I’m in love with you” is all he says staring at me. All I know is my eyes are humongous and my breath falters from his confession. In all my life and the boyfriends I’ve had sometimes you hear an “I love you” but not ever do you really hear “I’m In love with you”.

After the shock I realize I’ve been silent for about a minute a now and can see the tense silence has affected his confession “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything yet, I’ll wait until your ready and we can act like I didn’t say it yet an–” I sigh hearing his doubts “I’m in love with you too” my mouth rushes out the confession stopping him in the middle of his response. I see the shock on his face before a giant smile is replacing it. 

He bends to reach over the table cupping my face in his hands pulling my face in crashing his lips onto mine. He let’s go after a few seconds putting himself back into his chair, he wipes his mouth with the napkin and reaches into his wallet and putting money in the middle of the table before reaching for my hand pulling me up and out the restaurant “where are we going?” I ask dumbfounded. I couldnt finish my mac n cheese. He doesn't respond, instead, he shuts the door for me after I settle in the car.

He still hasn't responded after we got home, I tried one more time but he continues to walk into the house. 

He guides us both to the bedroom before reaching into his drawer that I told him to use since he has been staying here for a few weeks on end. He turns around with a light blue box and extends his hand with the box in it towards me, I eye the box sceptically before reaching to open and see the contents. 

In the box lays a dainty silver chained necklace with the letter T on it. I grab the chain, pulling it out of the box before Travis takes it gesturing me to turn around. I turn and pull my hair off of my neck as he clasps the necklace on, I can see it in the mirror from where we stand. “It’s beautiful, thank you really” I turn back around embracing him and giving him a chaste kiss. He keeps me tight against his solid frame before toying with the back of my outfit trying to untie it. I smirk before pulling away and pulling his hand guiding us both to the bed.

The Next Day

Getting ready for the day, Travis heads over to practice while I’m having my morning iced coffee waiting for the documentary production crew to come over and set up their equipment for us to start filming soon. 

As the crew comes In I greet all of them and gesturing to the kitchen counter where drinks and snacks lay for them to take “hello! Help yourselves to something to eat and drink, and I want to thank you guys for coming and doing all of this.” I talk to them for a but longer before the producer and director walk over “y/n hey we just wanted to see which room you would feel comfortable having the private interviews in?” after showing them the room all of the crew leave for the day to get rest for filming tomorrow.

Travis comes back around six and decide to cook dinner together I decided to go live while also trying to teach him how to make tamales. “Okay, Travis here is making a giant mess, but that’s okay, he’s learning” I joke to audience getting a mock shocked look from him “Hey! For someone who has never even had a tamale nor ever make one, I’m doing amazing!” he jokes at me, I give him a laugh before leaning forward to read some comments.

 “Chiefsqueen21 asks when will I perform live next? I will be performing soon in the next week, but I cannot tell you where at or what I will be performing but It will be out this week I promise” I cross my fingers to them “Okay, y/n’sleftsock, I love that username!” I belly laugh “They ask, will y/n ever been on an episode of new heights? I personally do not know I’d be a little nervous too because I’ve seen Jason does not hold back”  I laugh, turning to Travis who is off camera now “would I ever be a guest?” I question him smirking.

 He laughs before walking back into frame smirking “yall would have to see soon, but Jason would definitely not hold back the invasive questions” he says. I huff a laugh before we continue to read out fan questions.

We finish eating dinner before I remember “hey come on I wanna do something real quick” I tell him pulling his hand to the bedroom where the mirror is, I take out my phone and open Instagram and open the camera, I gesture for him to come closer. 

He has a look of confusion before it sets in on what I’m silently asking him. He pulls me to him in a hug, I snap the picture we don’t let go yet. 

He’s the first to let go but his hands still resting on my hip “what’s that for?” he questions I push my hair behind my ear “I realized that you made it official but now its my turn to show you off to the world” he smiles, pulling my back into an embrace, kissing me softly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist:

@whitemanswhore3

@bxdbxtxh15

@cixrosie

@kkrenae

@the-untamed-soul

@calirindo

@armystay89

@hotwheels1108

@awatt31

@bobthe-turmpetman29

@goldenharrysworld

@chimchimmarie

#travis kelce #travis x reader #famous!reader #allrightnowseries

[libra-kirishima]

Oh my goodness I just read your Iida family HC and my heart erupted!!! I'd love to see what you come up with for Kirishima or Bakugou!

I literally got this request two years ago I am so sorry.

But bestie I am so glad you asked because I have so many thoughts. I think about them a lot.

Family Headcanons for Kirishima + Bakugou

! implied fem reader !

Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima definitely has at least one older sister. Probably a very close relationship with his mom as well. The women in his life played such a huge role in making him the person that he is today.

Having said that, I can only see Kirishima as a girl dad.

He radiates huge "girl dad" energy. And he's so proud about it too. Having girls is his favorite thing ever.

I can see you and him with three girls, each of them are 2 or 3 years apart, and they all have red eyes and black hair.

Not a single one of your daughters looks like you, I'm sorry. He insists that they all have your smile, though.

He's super involved from the minute you tell him you're pregnant. Taking you to every doctor's appointment, helping you with whatever you need, designing the nursery.

Once he found out he was having a girl, he made you sit down with him every night while he learned how to do your hair. It was so important to him for him to know how to comb and style hair so he could help get them ready for school in the future.

One aspect of fatherhood he's surprisingly hands-off about is picking a name. He wants you to do it and he's completely happy with whatever you pick.

A name is just not that important to him. Whatever you want your girl's names to be will be special to him. Not because he carefully chose a name with a special meaning, but because it's his daughter's name and she is special to him.

Although his disinterest in helping you pick a name definitely started a fight between the two of you when you were pregnant with your first, because it felt like he didn't care enough to help you pick.

He's super involved after the kids are born too.

Strongly encourages them to get into something physical. Ballet, soccer, gymnastics, baseball, volleyball. He doesn't care. He'll let them do anything that they want so long as it gets them moving.

And he goes to every performance and every game. He's in the front row of every school play with a bouquet of roses in his hands. He's your girls' biggest cheerleader.

Your girls would tell him everything too. He's surprisingly good at keeping up with stories of teenage girl drama and gives them his full attention any time there's an update.

I can see Kirishima with a TV Sitcom ass family that other kids in the neighborhood would come to for advice or a safe space to hang out.

Kirishima cries at everything. Cried when he learned you were pregnant. Cried when each one of your daughters was born. He cries at birthdays, at graduations, at holidays, at performances, at major milestones.

Definitely calls his daughters "manly" as a compliment.

It's really important to him that his kids get along with each other and always have each other's backs. Your kids aren't allowed to fight in your house. If they do start fighting he takes them aside and makes them work it out.

Bakugou Katsuki

When he was a teenager he had a complicated relationship with his parents, specifically with his mom. But as he gets older he starts to understand them more and they get along better.

His parents never really told him they were proud of him or praised him because Mitsuki was worried it would go to his head.

He also felt like his parents were embarrassed by him because of the way he acted. (They were)

When you met him, he insisted that he never wanted kids.

It took him a long time but he eventually changed his mind. He had a lot of growing and changing to do before thinking about starting a family.

A huge part of his hesitation came from the difficult task of contending with his past. He was cruel and abusive as a kid and became so worried about his kid turning out like him at that age. And if they did, he wouldn't know what to do to stop it, just like his parents didn't with him.

A lot of his parenting is modeled after his parents. Not only what they did right, but what he thinks they did wrong as well. He wants to learn from his parents' mistakes and do better than they did.

Bakugou may not be the best dad but he'll always stand by his kid and support them them regardless of the circumstance.

He's never been very articulate or very in-touch with his emotions. He struggles to tell his loved ones that he loves them, your kid included. Because of this, he makes sure to show them that he loves them.

When you tell him you're pregnant, he doesn't really react. He doesn't even stop watching the news to look you in the eye. You're worried that he doesn't care but internally he's so happy. He doesn't say so. Doesn't even smile. His way of reassuring you that he wants this is by asking you what you want the nursery to look like, and getting to work moving all the furniture out of the guest room to turn it into the baby's room as soon as he wakes up the next day.

He doesn't care about the sex of the baby. He just wants it to be happy and healthy.

Very involved in the process of picking a name, though.

He suggests a bunch of names that he thinks sound strong and powerful but are actually really stupid.

I also see Bakugou with a little girl. Just one, though.

He feels bad that he can't be more involved in his kid's life because of his job, so he only wants one child. He thinks he'll do his best as a parent when all of his free time can be devoted to her.

He also spoils her rotten and justifies it because she's his only kid.

Any fear that he has about his kid being mean like he was completely disappears when he holds her in his arms for the first time and sees that she has kind eyes just like yours.

Having a kid forces him to become a lot more level-headed. He refuses to argue with his baby girl like he used to argue with his mom, no matter how much she tries to provoke him. As much as he loves his mom, the constant push and pull between them is not an aspect of her parenting he wants to carry over.

I feel like he's great when your kid is still a kid, but really struggles with the teenage years. No matter how many times you tell him it's normal, he doesn't understand why she doesn't tell him everything anymore or why she thinks she's too cool to spend time with him.

The type of parent to yell at your daughter to get out of her room and go outside.

Your daughter wants to be a hero just like her daddy. I think a lot of the strain that was put in the relationship when she was a teenager is repaired when she becomes an adult and they start working together.

Bakugou is her favorite parent and neither of you understand why.

#unrelated headcanon but i feel like if you asked kirishima if he thought you were pretty he would respond with #''of course! why? are the other girls making you feel bad?'' bc the girls in his younger sister's class would make her feel bad abt herself #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou

[bluewasthecolor]

This Is What It Feels Like

Word Count: 5330

Warnings: Smidges of angst.

A/N: The anons who requested that I work on this get a special shoutout because Gracie is superior. Also this song was written about a friendship but I am writing about a relationship because art is up for interpretation (and I like writing about relationships)! I'm really proud of how this turned out, so I hope you like it! Let me know what else you'd like to see from me. I've been pretty much exclusively working on this one for the past few days, but I'm planning to work on some requests/ficlets now so expect to see more uploads from me in the next few days.

The city's gettin' loud

If I choke, it's only 'cause I'm scared to be alone

“You coming out with us tonight?” You look up from your phone to see Leah standing over you.

“Pardon?”

“We’re going out to have some team bonding time–just going to dinner, having a couple drinks, nothing major. You should come.” “Oh, um, I think I have plans tonight, but thanks for the invite.” You smile awkwardly and walk out of the changing room, leaving Leah standing alone.

On the drive home, as you cook yourself dinner in your flat, and as you eat alone, you can’t stop thinking about your interaction with Leah. You’re not sure why you said no to her invitation. You really don’t have anything to do–how could you? You’ve only been in London for a month and all of your time has been spent with the team so they’re your only real opportunity for social interaction. You pray that Leah doesn’t think about this, doesn’t realize you were lying. It’s not that you don’t want to get to know them, you truly do, it’s just that all of this feels a bit much right now. You’ve always been pretty shy and that makes it hard to get close to anyone. It took you almost a year after being drafted to OL Reign before you finally settled in, so it’s not much of a surprise that you’re still having difficulty making connections. This was supposed to be different though. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Moving to London was supposed to help you, was supposed to be an escape from all the noise. Instead, here you are panicking just as you have so many times before. You feel as though you’re back in Seattle, back in that godforsaken apartment, trying not to drown. It’s not all that different you suppose, then and now. You were alone then and you’re alone now. Except now you’re in London halfway across the world from everyone you love. You feel naive that you thought this would help you, that you thought transferring to Arsenal was the right choice. Instead of being able to call somebody to come over when it all gets to be too much, you’re left struggling through on your own. This must have been a mistake.

After dinner you’re sitting in your living room when your musings are interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. Confused about who could be at your place–about who even knows where you live–you look through the peephole to see Leah standing on the other side. Your breath catches in your throat. What is she doing here? You press your back into the door, reminding yourself to breathe. She’s one of your teammates, not some random stranger. It’s going to be okay. With that, you swing open the door. Leah looks up as you do so, smiling when she sees you.

“Hey Y/N. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” “No, no not at all. I thought you were going out with the girls tonight?” “Well, I was, but then I talked to you.” A smirk is playing at her lips and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. “You said you had ‘plans’ but then I realized the likelihood of you knowing anyone in London besides the team is very very slim. So, I thought I’d come over.” She holds up her hand and the bottle occupying it. “I brought wine. Can I come in?”

Taken aback by her assertiveness, you step aside allowing her to enter. You’re still confused about what’s going on, but you follow her into your kitchen anyway, determined not to make things awkward. She grabs two wine glasses off the shelf, pouring each glass half full and handing one to you. You take it, grateful to have something to do with your hands.

“Would you like to sit?” You tilt your head towards the couch, and Leah nods. You move to sit next to one another and she looks at you. Like, really looks at you. The prolonged eye contact makes you shift uncomfortably, looking away after a few seconds. 

“So. Y/N.” Leah’s voice is soft, comforting. “Truth be told I didn’t just come here to drink wine.”

You look back up, a question in your eyes.

“I wanted to check in on you. You never come out with us, barely interact with the team besides to talk about football. Did we do something? Are you just not interested in getting to know us?” 

“Ah, so this isn’t just a friendly visit. You’ve been sent here on a spy mission. Get me to confess all my secrets, report back, right?” You’re half teasing, but apparently you’ve struck a nerve.

“No!” Leah is quick to deny, but even quicker to backtrack. “Okay so maybe Caitlin mentioned that I should come over and see if I could get you to crack, but it’s just because we want to know you. And I was already thinking of asking you to do something one on one.” The last part of her confession takes you off guard, but you compose yourself quickly.

“Alright. You get three questions. Go.” You’re not used to people being this honest with you, so you decide to give her something in return.

“Why don’t you ever spend time with us outside of training?” Her first question is as expected, and you begin to give your routine answer.

“I’m just really shy. I never really get to know people right away.” Her eyes narrow at your response, and you can tell she doesn’t fully buy your answer.

“Be more specific.” “This is gonna count as one of your questions, you know.”

“Be. More. Specific.” 

“It’s been like this since I was little, I think. My mom tells me my teachers would always send home notes saying that I was smart but needed to talk more in class. As I grew up it just kind of stayed the same way. I think I’m scared that if I let people in, if I get to know them, I’ll just end up getting hurt. If I never make an effort I never have to be let down or worry that someone doesn’t want to be around me.” You stare at your hands as you say this, embarrassed to look up at her. Leah is silent for a moment and you think you’ve scared her off, shared too much, but then her hands are on top of yours. 

“You don’t have to be scared with us. I know that’s a hard thing to believe, but you’ll never know unless you just trust us, unless you try. Give us a chance. Or, y’know, at least give me a chance, I’m not total rubbish.” She adds a cheeky wink with that last detail that makes you question whether or not she’s flirting with you. 

“I…I can give you a chance. I’m not so sure about everyone else. I’m not so good in a group setting.” Leah nods to herself. “And by the way you have one more question left.”

“Alright, how about this: will you go on a date with me?”

“I–uh–what?” You sputter out, not expecting the blonde to be quite so forward. 

“Go out with me. We’ll get to know one another, you can see that I genuinely want to know you, and then maybe you can work towards getting to know the rest of the girls.”

“Why can’t we just get to know each other as friends?” You ask, wary of her motives. “Because you’re insanely gorgeous and I’m pretty sure if we started hanging out as friends it would quickly turn into something more. Why not just skip to the fun part?” She has a point, you admit to yourself. You’re definitely guilty of sneaking glances when you think she’s not looking, admiring her beauty from afar.

“Okay, sure.” You can’t help but smile as you agree. “Let’s go on a date.” Leah squeals, actually squeals, and launches herself at you for a hug. 

“How’s this Thursday? Pick you up at six?”

Two Weeks Later

I would do whatever you wanted

We don't have to leave the apartment

You’ve been going out with Leah for two weeks and it’s good. Waking up in the morning and realizing you have an hour before your alarm goes off, finding the perfect pair of jeans, heart stoppingly good. It’s easy with Leah, unlike many of your past relationships. You don’t feel like you’re constantly second guessing yourself or like you need to be on when you’re with her, you can just be. She doesn’t play games with you, she’s straightforward and doesn’t beat around the bush. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s good in bed. On the rare occasions that she lets you take control, on her back completely at your mercy, you feel powerful and in control. When she’s on top of you, coaxing orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm from your body, you lose yourself in the way she makes you feel. The way she takes you apart oh so slowly and–

“...Y/N?” Leah’s voice snaps you out of your daydreaming as she taps on your forehead. “Hello, is anyone home?”

The two of you are lying in her bed, spending one of your rare days off with one another. The defender has her back pressed against the headboard and you are settled between her thighs, head resting on her chest. “Sorry, sorry. What’s up?”

“I was asking what you wanted to do for dinner tonight.” “Oh, I don’t care. You pick.”

“Well…” Leah pauses, looking down at you with careful concern in her eyes. “Beth and Viv are having a thing tonight. They invited us. We could go to that.”

“I’m not so sure Leah. I don’t think I’m ready.” You look up at her guiltily, feeling bad that you’re preventing her from seeing her friends. “You should go though. I can just head back to my place for the night.”

“What? No. I want to hang out with you, I just thought it might be time to get to know the girls. It’s okay if you’re not ready though.”

“You don’t want to go?” “I didn’t say that. I said I want to spend time with you.” 

“I still think you should go.” This conversation was slowly starting to feel more and more like a fight.

“What’s this about, Y/N? Do you not want to spend time with me?” Leah’s voice is cold now.

“Don’t turn this on me, I-you know what? I think I should just go home. I’ll see you at training tomorrow.” You push yourself off the bed, stalking to gather your things. 

“What the hell, Y/N? Is this how you deal with things? You can’t just up and leave when shit gets hard. Come sit down and talk to me.” You look up to see that Leah has followed you out of the bedroom and is sitting on the couch. You shuffle over, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Well?” Your voice is short. “I don’t really have much else to say, so it’s your turn to talk.” 

“I guess I’m just a bit confused. Why are you so insistent that I do this? Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Leah’s voice is still cold but a bit of insecurity creeps through as well, her voice breaking just a little.

“No! I just…” Tears begin to well in your eyes before you can get the full sentence out. Taking a deep breath, you try again. “I don’t want you to resent me. Or feel like I’m keeping you from your friends.” “Oh, Y/N.” Leah murmurs, her voice soft now. “I could never resent you, baby.” “I just…we never do anything with anyone else. It’s not much of a relationship. I don’t want you to get bored of me” You stare intensely at your lap, not fully buying her response.

“Hey. Look at me.” The blonde tilts your chin up with her finger, forcing eye contact. “I am happy to do absolutely anything with you. It doesn’t have to be with other people. Hell, we could never leave this flat again and I wouldn’t complain. I never ever want you to question this. We’ve just gotta communicate, yeah?” She pulls you into her side as she says this, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right.” You let yourself lean into the Brit. “And I want you to know that I do want to get to know the girls, I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Just let me know when you are, darling, and I’ll set it up.” With that, Leah presses a kiss into the crown of your head. “Where’d we land on dinner by the way?”

“Well you’re certainly not cooking so would you rather have me cook or should we order takeout?” Your cheeky response results in Leah pushing you so that you are now on your back and she is hovering above you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

She looks as though she’s about to kiss you, she even leans in as though that is what’s going to happen, but then her hands are on your sides and she’s tickling you. You squeal, trying to squirm away from her but she has you pinned to the couch. You eventually manage to roll off the couch and dash off, using your knee to push Leah off of you. She follows close behind, wrapping her arms around your waist and lifting you off your feet. As you laugh breathlessly she carries you towards her bedroom, tossing you onto the bed a dark look coming over her eyes.

-

Afterwards, the two of you lay intertwined, recuperating from taking one another to pieces. You reach up to stroke her hair, content in the small moment you were sharing. It was in that moment that you knew.

“I’m ready to get to know everyone now.” You murmur softly, looking up at Leah to see her reaction. She’s hesitant at first, not wanting to push you. 

“Really? You’re sure?” You nod, smiling up at her. “Is this because of the sex? Like, y’know, I’m just so good that you’re super confident now?”

“No you asshole!” You sit up, smacking Leah lightly on the chest. “I just…I don’t know. You make me feel so safe and you obviously trust the girls, so I have no reason to be scared I don’t think.”

Leah presses a kiss to your cheek, pulling you closer.

“I’ll set it up.”

That Weekend

We stayed a couple hours

Our clothes matched enough to throw me off a bit

“You’re kidding.” Leah snorts as you open the door to your apartment. You stare back, unsure of what to say. The two of you have accidentally dressed in what are basically matching outfits: white tank top, black pants, white sneakers. 

“Goddamnit,” You groan, turning to head back into your place. “I’m gonna go change. They’ll think I’m weird if we show up in matching outfits.”

“We’re late enough as it is, it’ll be fine.” She says, a hand reaching out to wrap around your wrist. “Let’s go, Y/L/N!”

-

As Leah parks the car in Viv and Beth’s driveway, you try to focus on your breathing. It’s just a dinner. A dinner with your teammates who, Leah has assured you endlessly, are excited to get to know you. Still, you can’t help but worry. What if you mess something up? What if they don’t like you and it changes how Leah sees you? What if, what if, what if. The possibilities are never ending. Leah, having finished parking, can clearly see that you’re overthinking things.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?” She reaches over the center console to rest her hand comfortingly on top of yours.

“I dunno, just nervous I guess.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, they’re gonna love you, I promise. Just be yourself.” She lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a kiss on each finger. She then gets out of the car, walking around to open your door. 

“Shall we?” She asks, extending her arm.

You grab it, stepping out of the car slowly. You let her lead you to the door and she squeezes your hand twice as she knocks. Leaning over to you, she whispers:

“If it gets to be too much, tell me. We can go whenever you want.” Grateful for her concern, you squeeze back. 

At that moment, the door swings open. 

“Leah! Y/N! Come on in!” Beth is smiling brightly at the two of you as she steps aside to let you enter. “Everyone’s just chilling in the kitchen, follow me.” 

The blonde leads the two of you further into the house, stopping in the kitchen. Viv is behind the counter cooking with Caitlin as her sous chef, while Lia, Katie, and Ruesha are perched at the counter observing. They’re all laughing at something Ruesha said, and look up when you walk in. Caitlin is the first to speak, greeting you warmly.

“Hey guys, good to see you!” The rest of the girls follow suit, echoing greetings at you. Beth passes you each a glass of wine and gestures to you to take a seat at the counter.

“Um…did you guys mean to dress alike?” Katie asks, hiding a smirk. You blush, and look at Leah.

“Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. What’s it to you, McCabe?” She bites back, a grin on her face.

You perch next to Leah, your hand finding hers under the counter. As you chat more with each girl you can feel yourself relaxing bit by bit. They’re all incredibly kind and clearly do want to know you. 

“Viv, whatever you’re cooking smells fantastic.” You compliment the Dutch woman, who smiles as you say this. “Can I help at all? I’m not too bad in the kitchen.”

“That would be great actually! Cait’s a great help but many hands make light work. Do you think you could make a salad?” Viv directs you, gesturing to the empty salad bowl. “Everything you need should either be in the fridge or on the spice rack and if you’d like an apron they’re in the first drawer to the right of the dishwasher.”

You stand from your spot behind the counter and tie an apron around your waist.

“Oh my God, Y/N you have to make that one kale caesar salad with the dressing. It’s the best salad you’ll ever have, I swear.” Leah directs the last part to the rest of the room, all of whom look intrigued.

“Okay then! One kale caesar salad coming up!” 

You set to work, gathering your ingredients for both the salad and the dressing. Viv and Caitlin work next to you, the three of you in perfect sync as you move around the kitchen. 

“Leah! Come sit in the living room with us,” Katie’s voice drifts into the kitchen, and you look up to see that she, Ruesha, Beth, and Lia have all moved into the next room. Only Leah remains at the counter, watching your every move. Now, she looks at you with a clear question in her eyes.

“Go, I’m good.” You smile reassuringly, waving your wine glass towards the next room. She returns the smile and turns to go. 

“So. Y/N.” As soon as Leah’s left the room, you hear Caitlin’s voice behind you. “Now that Leah’s out of the way, Viv and I want to get to know you some more.” 

You spin to see the two women smiling mischievously at you, clueing you into the fact that this was somehow planned.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” You respond, surprising even yourself with your willingness to be open. Something about Viv and Caitlin just makes you feel at ease.

“What was it like to play in Seattle?” Viv jumps at the chance to ask a question just as Caitlin is opening her mouth.

“I mean, it was amazing, I won’t lie to you. I grew up in Seattle so it was unbelievable to get to play for my home club, and the culture of the team is insane. They’re absolutely still my family.” 

“So why’d you leave?” It’s Caitlin this time asking the question. “Sorry if that sounds rude I just mean if it was so perfect something must have happened, right?” “Yes and no. I think part of it was that I felt like I wasn’t progressing much as a player and I knew my contract was up at the end of the season so it seemed like the right time for a change. I think if I had been in a different headspace I might have tried to stay at OL Reign, but I was struggling a lot so it just wasn’t the right time for me to be there. I’d love to go back someday though.” You answer her question with complete honesty, already feeling as though you can trust the two women standing before you. 

Apparently satisfied with your answers, the two women go back to working in silence. You smile to yourself as you mix the salad dressing. It appears as though you’ve made your first friends at Arsenal. It feels good to have someone other than Leah in your corner. While she’s amazing, there’s something to be said about the strength of friendship. Just as you’re thinking of her, the blonde sneaks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her head into your neck. You chuckle, leaning back slightly so that your weight is resting on her body. 

“Hey pretty girl.” She murmurs, the words vibrating against your neck. You shift your head slightly away from her, a suggestion that she should take advantage of the extra space. Thankfully, Leah takes the hint. She presses subtle kisses against your neck, and you can feel that she’s smiling as she does so. The moment is cut short all too soon, however, by Caitlin clapping her hands.

“Dinner’s ready I think!” The Aussie announces. “Y/N, Leah, stop your PDA and come eat.” Blushing, you separate from Leah and carry the salad bowl into the dining room. The brit is close on your heels, snagging the seat next to yours and placing her hand on your thigh as soon as she sits down. You lean over, beckoning Leah closer.

“Someone’s feeling a bit clingy tonight, huh, darling?” You whisper, cupping your hands around her ear. “And I thought I would be the one stuck to you all night.” 

Leah smirks at your comment, now leaning into your ear.

“I can’t help it, love. I can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” Her voice is low and rough, suddenly full of desire.

Her words elicit a small gasp from your lips, and you look at her purposefully. This is not the time nor the place for such a display but you’re also not too upset about it. You know she won’t push you farther than is comfortable and definitely won’t do anything that will embarrass you, so you’re content to let her tease you a bit. As the rest of your teammates sit down, you notice how easy this feels. You aren’t second guessing everything you say and you’re able to chat easily with each of the women sitting at the table. You sit with them for what is likely another two or three hours but feels like thirty minutes, talking and laughing with one another. Eventually, Leah is yawning next to you, sleepy from the amount of wine she’s had, so you decide it’s time to head home.

“Are you sure you’re alright to drive?” Viv asks with concern as everyone gathers by the front door getting ready to leave. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” “I only had one glass while I was cooking and that was ages ago. We’ll be alright, thanks so much Viv. Dinner was lovely” You smile warmly at the Dutch woman and pull her into a hug. You make the rounds to all the other girls, wishing them good night. When you reach Caitlin you grin as you hug her.

“Let’s do lunch soon, yeah?” You ask as you pull away.

“Absolutely. See you at training, mate.”

With that, you and Leah head to the car. As you’re pulling out of the driveway Leah looks at you, eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Thank you for coming tonight. It meant a lot to them. And me.” She murmurs, reaching to place her hand on your thigh once again. You put your hand on top of hers, tapping it lightly in reply. One night doesn’t automatically solve your problems but it’s a really good start.

Two Months Later

And I need you sometimes

We'll be alright

Met you at the right time

You’re pretty sure you’ve just ruined everything. Two months of pure bliss and you just destroyed it all with three stupid words. What had you been thinking? It’s too soon. You know that. You’re usually the one wanting to slow things down in relationships and yet you still did it. Something just came over you today. After Leah’s telling silence you had fled and now, here you are. Curled up in bed with a tub of ice cream, crying over everything you’ve just lost. 

After about an hour of this, you hear a knock on your door. Not in the mood to talk to anyone, you decide to ignore it and hope whoever it is will go away. They do not, and the knocking continues for another five or so minutes. Just as it’s finished and you’re thinking that the knocker has finally left, your phone lights up with a text.

Cait: Leah called me. Viv and I are here.

You wait a moment hoping they’ll get the hint, but no such luck.

Cait: Please let us in.

Sighing, you push yourself out of bed. The two women, who have quickly become some of your closest friends, are clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon. You open the door and are met by two of the most concerned faces you’ve ever seen.

“Shit, Y/N. Come here.” Viv exclaims upon seeing you, your face stained with tears.

Viv reaches out, enveloping you in a warm hug. You feel Caitlin’s arms wrap around you from behind. After a few moments of this, you pull away and gesture inside. The women follow you inside to the living room, settling on the couch on either side of you. Caitlin grabs your hand, squeezing lightly.

“We’re here if you wanna talk about it, but it’s okay if you just want to sit here.” The aussie says gently, nudging you with her shoulder.

“I want to talk about it.” You say, still sniffling. “Leah and I broke up.”

Three Hours Earlier

It started with pancakes. You had spent the night at Leah’s and woke up early, wanting to surprise her with breakfast in bed. When you woke, however, Leah was no longer in bed. Confused, you padded into the kitchen to find her at the stove–a rare sight. She didn’t notice you when you entered the kitchen, so you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She jumped slightly when you did so, a smile appearing on her lips.

“Whatcha doin’?” You asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Making you pancakes. But I can’t focus when you’re right there, you have to go sit at the counter.” She playfully nudged you away from her, and you obeyed, moving to sit at the counter. 

Watching her move around the kitchen, focusing oh so carefully on her cooking, determined not to mess up, you were struck suddenly with a thought. A thought you couldn’t hold in much longer. Just as she set a plate of pancakes in front of you, some part of your brain decided that was the perfect time.

“Leah.” You said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you. You cupped her face, brushing her hair back. “I love you.”

She didn’t say anything. She stood there, looking down at you for what felt like hours, but didn’t say a single word. Dejected, you pulled away.

“I, um–I have to go.” You stammered, embarrassed that you had thought the two of you were ready for such a big step. 

“Y/N, wait–” She called after you, but it was too late. You had left, were driving home with tears rolling down your face. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

Present

You look back and forth between Caitlin and Viv as you finish telling the story. They’re sharing some sort of knowing glance that you can’t read. Then, Viv places her hand on your arm.

“Y/N, that’s really hard and I know it feels like shit to not have her say it back but it doesn’t sound like you broke up.” Viv’s voice is soft, almost a whisper. You look at her, confused.

“What am I supposed to do now though? Pretend I never said it? I can’t do that.” 

“Nobody’s asking you to do that, we just think you should talk to her about it.” It’s Caitlin speaking this time. “And, by the way, she didn’t say you’d broken up when she called me. She just said you were upset when you left but she wasn’t sure if you’d want to see her.”

“Okay,” You sigh. “I’ll text her later to see if we can talk.” “Or,” Viv says as there’s another knock on the door. “You can talk to her now. We texted her when we got here.” Your friends get up to leave, each kissing you on the forehead as you sit frozen on the couch. You hear murmurs in the hallway and then the sound of the door shutting. Suddenly, Leah is standing in the living room, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. She’s clearly been crying too, her eyes bloodshot and her hair mussed. 

“Hi.” The blonde says tentatively, taking a step towards you. “Can I sit?” 

You nod, gesturing to the spot next to you on the sofa. She sits gingerly, clearly wary of how close she should sit. You look at her, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, she speaks first.

“So I think I owe you an explanation.” She looks at you, searching your face. For what exactly you’re unsure, but you nod at her to continue. “My last relationship moved pretty fast. We said I love you pretty early on and then we kind of crashed and burned. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do that again so today when you said it I was caught off guard. I didn’t want to ruin such a good thing. But then you left and I was broken. Not knowing where you were or if you were okay…I couldn’t stand to lose you. That’s when I realized.”

“Realized what?” You look up at her to see that she’s been waiting for you to make eye contact.

“That I love you too.” 

When she says this you lean farther into her, pressing your lips to hers. This kiss is different from all the ones you’ve shared before. It’s tentative, not because you don’t know each other but because you don’t want to move it too fast. You both want to savor it, not wanting to let go of this moment.

-

Later that night as you lie in bed together, a question pops into your mind. A question that might be risky, but that you can’t shake. 

“Leah?” You murmur, twisting in her arms so you can look at her. “What would you say if I asked you to move in with me?” A wide smile appears on your lips and she kisses you once more.

“I’d say I was about to ask you the same damn thing, my love.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc