#and that tiny little hint is “bad end” >_<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

I'm well rested, and here to make this even angstier. And maybe funnier.

Stan slays Bill, disappearing in a flash of light and gone for 10 years. When he opens his eyes in an abandoned temple he has no memory and meets Emma-May, the two of them adventuring around, looking at ruins and Emma-May teaching Stan what everything from bug species to clothes are (It takes her an embarrassingly long time to realize Stan thinks his armor is his skin, and only because he gets a hole in his shirt and starts screaming). Ford spent the last ten years scouring the kingdom for any hint of what had happened to his brother, then has a dream about needed to retrace his steps.

So Ford solo goes through each of the re corrupted temples, defeating each monster and finding fragments of Stan's memory, learning about Stan's hardships by seeing his journey through his eyes, and trying to reach the end while also growing worried about all the demons and evil. Stan killed Bill after all, why's all this here? It's not because of Stan being the one to clear the temples, they weren't like this the last time Ford came through after all ten years ago.

Stan's memory fragments start with them as kids, little moments before Ford was discovered to be the hero. Ford being bullied and Stan standing up for him, playing by the beach, Ford seeing spirits while Stan stands there awkwardly (Stan only started seeing them after he cleared his first temple maybe?). Then it's them at the castle, and while Ford fondly reminisces he suddenly gets hit with Stan's pov of their time there. Fords the Hero after all, he's got a reason to be learning with the prince, but Stan's not, so why's he here all the nobles whisper? He's not destined for greatness, he's a brat. No one wants him around, everyone bad talks him behind his back or to his face when Ford wasn't around.

Ford had no idea this was happening at all. Turns out Stan sword skill has less to do with natural talent and more to do with Stan spending hours training because the training grounds were the one place he could get away from the looks and sneers. Ford was getting all kinds of lessons but because Stan was just his tag along they didn't really push it when Stan stopped showing up due to the tutors prioritizing the Fords and doing more and more advanced lessons while Stan struggled to keep up.

Then it's them, older, and Stan didn't get kicked out of the castle but everyone was implying he should move on and stop riding on Fords coat tails. He has no purpose here, so why doesn't he run along and find one somewhere else, hmm? Except the whole kingdom knows about Ford, Ford gets out a lot networking and exploring. There's few places Stan can go that Ford hasn't been to first, and every one of them is disappointed when Stan says he's not Ford. Sure not all the places are terrible, but there's an underlying feeling of 'when is Ford gonna visit next' and 'oh its-! Oh never mind, it's Stan' and Stan couldn't take it so he ends up living in a tiny hut in the woods hanging out with fairies because they're so bad with faces and see souls or something none of them mistake Stan for Ford or care.

Then it's Stan on his journey, and he's not the Hero so it's the equivalent of playing botw with 3 hearts the whole game. Stan cannot upgrade his health, he cannot increase his stamina bar, he cant do the super fancy Link sword moves because he's the equivalent of an NPC. His adventures basically him playing on hard mode. He almost died so many times. It wasn't glamorous or fun or heroic, it was desperate, frightened, and awful. Fords own journey has been hard but he can upgrade himself (no idea how it translates in the real world. Maybe heartier? Or something? Each heart is a special blessing from the goddess? Whatever it is, Stan can't get it) so even if the monsters are harder than what Stan faced Ford can meet the challenge without the same level of terror.

And then there's the last memory, which is of Ford, young and skinny, not nearly as in shape as he is now, because younger him didn't put hours of work into wielding a sword like Stan did until after Stan had disappeared. And Ford gets to see Stan's hopes and dreams get crushed as his younger self yells and rages, and it's only now outside looking in that he understood that stealing a journey isn't something someone can do. This wasn't a whim of Stan's, his brother worked to get where he was, and his younger self was... young. Didn't understand what it meant that Stan had so many blessings, didn't see it as the achievement it was. Ford would really like to punch his younger self for being so-!!! Young.)

Back to the present now.

Fords kept Fiddleford in the loop about the temples, and through research and magic Fiddleford realizes that the Super Mega Ultra Ultimate Master Sword (no one can agree on which one Stan ended up choosing) is the sword that Cuts the Darkness. It is not a sword of sealing, and its not a sword of slaying. It can cut, but it can't kill.

It's a stop gap. A way for the common folk of Hyrule, if they prove themselves worthy, to hold back the darkness until the Hero can arrive to seal it away. A sword meant to make it so common souls can rise up to the challenge and have a chance to help, to be a hero in their own right. Stan didn't kill Bill, he slowed him down, and the pieces of memories were what Bill tore out of him in retaliation. Stan's alive somewhere, but no one knows where, or how long he has until his life is in danger from Bills revenge.

Stan's having a great time though! He's a living person, he's got a million tiny spirit friends, he's got his new BFF Emma-May who's the smartest lady ever, and he just learned he's super good at using a sword. Lifes amazing!

Except for all the monsters everywhere:/ good thing he's got a sword though!

Emma-May is on a journey to discover a dragon. She knows they're out there, she knows they exist, she just has to find where they went. (Stan looks at the giant spirit dragon flying in the sky, squints, then shrugs. That's probably not what she's looking for maybe.) They go through their own journey, fighting monsters and searching ruins, while Stan sort of remembers maybe being a spirit.

I'm thinking that, in order so Stan's not coming back to himself with a teen mind, he might have been still battling Bills spirit or something. For 10 years Stan and him had been battling it out, until Stan finally stumbled and got flung back into the world, and Bill snatched his memories so that he couldn't warn everyone about it. Maybe that's what the Super Mega Ultra Ultimate Super Again Master Sword does, locks the wielder and whatever evil it slayed into a mind battle to buy time, and the memories were on Bills part and not the sword.

No wait, better idea incoming about that.

Anyway it comes to a head back at the castle. Fords rushing to get back to warn Fiddleford, finds Bill there cackling and evil, and also Stan. Stan is also there, because Emma-May had been summoned by the court as a spirit expert, and Fiddleford thought maybe she could hunt down Stan's spirit. Was very surprised to also see Stan, and then everyone was surprised by the demon. Fighting starts, Ford hasn't arrived, and Stan's struck with a memory as he see the SMUUSA Master Sword. He doesn't really remember who he is yet, but he knows that sword is his. Snatches it, fights Bill, and through a series of events he figures out that Bill being here was a panic move on his part. The demons not done getting all his parts together, and if Ford the Hero seals him now those other pieces will just strike again later. He has to buy his brother more time.

Cue dramatic second sacrifice. The SMUUSA Master Sword buys time, he'll just use it again! Except this time, his spirit is still damaged and healing, he can't fight Bill for another ten years, time to mix it up. There's a little 8 ball on the pommel, a symbol of fortune, and fortune shakes and lands on 'dragon time'.

Stan is now a dragon. The SMUUSA Master Sword is sealing Bills conscious so that Ford can gather the demons pieces and seal them all at once, and Stan's a dragon because those things are super soaked in spiritual power. All Ford has to do is find them, bring them back to the castle, get the SMUUSA from Stan to unseal Bills mind, then fight him for the final time and seal him until the cycle repeats in a few thousand years.

Two versions of this.

Angst says Ford either doesn't realize right away what happened and gets a late start, or Bill's fragments are minor monsters in their own right (henchmainacs?) and are on the move. Ford got the stagnant ones that had rooted themselves into places of power, now he has to track down the rest, find a way to contain them, then drag those pieces somewhere secure so that when this finally happens the damage can get mitigated.

This takes thirty years, both tracking things down, getting a location ready, and Fiddleford developing (along with his first courted then wife/new queen Emma-May) a way to contain each piece of Bill so that it won't rampage semi-mindless as each piece merges with the greater whole. All the while Stan's flyiing around the kingdom, being a dragon and doing spirit dragon things. Like becoming the local semi-spirit menace. Just like the other dragons Stan never touches the ground or lands but unlike them he is not above full blast speeding over a village and knocking over everyone's laundry. How much is he aware of himself? Who knows, but you know Fords face down crying into his dragon mane whenever no one can find him. Climbs down to stare into Stan's uncaring dragon eye and tell him what everyones up to, how his journey is going,

Thirty years come and go, Fords an old man, and maybe its Dipper and Mabel that stumble on Bill's last piece? Finally gets all of them together, waits until Dragon Stan's as close as possible to where it is, then Ford pulls the SMUUSA Master Sword, freeing Bill and undragoning Stan. Then there's a huge fight while Stan's still mostly an amnesiac and super confused about everything going on and Ford finally seals Bill. Then he hugs Stan, cries at his confused eyes, shoves his memories at him, and yells about how much of a knucklehead he is. If Stan does anything self sacrificial for a third time Ford will kill him.

Funny version is:

Its... pretty easy actually. Emma-May is a huge help, and spends her days obsessively watching Stan fly across the sky and keeps Ford updated. It takes maybe 5 years to get all of Bills pieces, now they just need the SMUUSAMS. One problem.

None of them can fly. There are no sky islands. There are no planes or hot air balloons. Only Ford can pull it from Stan, and if there's rito none of them can help because Stan will attack them if they get close and he's a giant dragon. The first five years of the thirty are Ford getting all of the pieces, and the next twenty five are them trying more and more absurd ways to get Stan down low enough Ford can reach or flinging Ford into the sky without killing him. (I'm thinking Stan's dragon name would be El Diablo, since most wouldn't know that the giant flying red jerk dragon is the Hero's twin brother.)

Ford hates his dragon brother. He hates him. He misses and loves him but he hates him. Why can't Stan fly in any kind of pattern like the rest of the dragons? Why does Stan have to be whimsical? Fords gonna pull that sword from his head then slam it back in and kill him. He's going to kill his brother for the trial of having to spend twenty five years just reaching his stupid head.

Funniest solution is Mabel suggesting they just ask him. Ford, in a fit of rage, gets a super mega phone and stands on a mountain near where Stan is flying and screams about how he'd love it if Stan just flew right over here! Just come right here so Ford can jump on!

Then Stan does that, and Fords so consumed with fury he almost misses jumping on as Stan flies directly underneath him.

Either way it ends with Ford kicking Stan to the curb so he and FIddleford can seal Bill away and any time Stan tries to help Ford whips around, grabs him, and full force throws him as far as possible. Fords not doing this a third time. Stan's not so much as going to move until Ford drives a sword through Bills chest and kills him forever. Fiddleford is also shooting crossbow bolts at his feet if Fords busy. He's also had enough of this. He regrets making the SMUUSA Master Sword so much specifically because of how its affected his life.

And thats what I got for 'Stan disappears in a flash of light' ending. whew. I had to write this in a mad panic in short bursts at work and it was killing me. Anyway I hope you enjoy it!

So I know nothing about Loz but I imagine Stan defeats Bill and gets teleported away to be killed by the sword but Emma-May finds him and saves him. However this causes him to lose his memory’s so Emma and Stan are kind of just wandering while Ford and Fidds are trying to save Stan. (Also I had the horrible idea of the sword actually physically hurting him with vines or something slowly digging into the hand he uses to wield it, and when Emma finds him, the earth is trying to consume him) :D

Oho! I do like that route in the 'Stan disappears' timeline. Hmm. Ford gets there just as Stan drives the Super Master Sword through Bills chest, there's a flash of light, and then Stan's gone, sword still pinning Bills corpse to the ground. Now it's Epic Quest time to find Stan and maybe fight the goddesses? Ford will figure it out later.

This got long lol, and a little less angsty.

Meanwhile Stan has a meet up with one of the greater spirits (Axolotl) who thanks Stan for rising up to the challenge despite being a regular, not fated being. Everyone's very impressed with him, but sadly his normal person, not descended from the goddesses or reincarnated soul couldn't handle the strain of wielding the Sword that Cuts the-

Stan: Super Mega Master Sword

Axolotl: what?

Stan: it's the Super Mega Master Sword. Or Maybe the Ultra Master Sword. I'm still work-shopping it.

Well, Stan's successfully charmed the spirits (which he'd already done, but his inability to take any of their grandstanding seriously is so new and fresh they just love it), and due to his blessings and the favor of the goddesses he's been given a choice. The sword requires great power to use, one that Stans soul couldn't handle. He can either let go and allow it to heal in the great cycle of reincarnation, or go back and-

Stan: second one

Axolotl: but you don't know the price? What if its-

Stan: don't care. I'm going back, I'm going to shove my victory in Fords face and eat just. So much food. I'm so hungry. I could eat a burger so fast, you wouldn't believe.

Well, if Stan's already decided then that's that on that! Good luck hero!

And Stan wakes up. Hes in a lovely field, surrounded by flowers at the foot of a statue to the goddess. Birds are singing, bugs are chirping, the sun is shining through the trees and he can sort of make out where the walls of a temple once stood.

He has no idea who he is.

But! He found a stick! It's a pretty good stick, and he's pretty sure if he whacks it at something, it'll break, and then! He'll have two sticks :D

Emma-May, wandering scholar, finds this wandering adventurer in the woods who must have gotten hit in the head or something and lost almost all his gear, all he has is the leather armor he had on him and a few empty pouches. He's got twigs in his hair, is stuffing a leaf in his mouth, and looks so amazed when she shows him that he can pick up rocks it's endearing.

She can't let this guy die. She's pretty sure he's a spirit that's possessing a dead body actually. There's no other explanation on why he doesn't know what anything is or how anything works. It's up to her to take care of him. This is a test by the goddesses, and she's determined to pass all expectations. (Stan is link from botw basically. Everything is ??? To him).

Meanwhile the Fords are on a Quest to find Stan. Unlike the other timeline Fords not super pissed at Stan (well, he is, but his worry for his brother is overriding it), and he's yelling at anyone who listens about how Stan slayed Bill and vanished in golden light and if Ford doesn't find him he's going to do..... something. No one likes the desperate look in his eye or how riled up he gets when they try to thank him for his good deeds because no, that was Stan too. Don't they know Stan's a hero now and might be dead? Fords a failure and he failed and Stan's dead!

Finally has a dream where the spirits are like 'you need to chill out your bro isn't dead. Just go look for him'. So off he goes, Fiddleford staying to lead the search from the castle and get his kingdom in order.

It either takes ten years or ten months to find Stan. Angst demands years but the comedy and angst of Ford finally finding Stan when he's still pretty into his 'life is beautiful and what is this Emma-May? :3' phase is appealing to me. Maybe even ten weeks.

Emma-May is traveling on the outskirts of Hyrule looking at ancient ruins and studying her spirit friend who's incredibly good with a sword and who can see and talk to spirits for her. They love her new assistant/godly trial and he's making her research a lot more fun.

She named him Hal, on account of him only responding to the word Help for the first week or so and Hal being an easy transition from that. Her and Hal are an amazing duo, finding lost temples and clearing them out, finding lost artifacts, slaying new and terrifying beasts. It's a thrill. She's living her best life, and teaching Hal is part of the fun. It's like if a kid was also.. an older teen? He's still got baby fat huh. Yeesh.

Anyway.

Then Ford rolls up, following their trail and coincidentally discovering that there's some other, ancient evil stirring under the land now that Bills gone. He's slaying monsters no one's seen in years, rescuing civilians, finding lost temples that! Have already been cleared.

Temples he knows Stan hadn't touched in his journey to rescue Ford. It's both a sign he's on the right path and incredibly annoying. Especially since it means Stan's walking around somewhere with like. The pieces of the key that'll let an ancient horror loose upon the land.

No wait. Scratch that. I've got another idea.

Its been ten years since Stan disappeared in a flash of light, and Fords been scouring every obscure library and tome for any kind of hint on where Stan could have gone. None of the spirits have confirmed if his brothers dead or alive, so he must be alive. He has to be, because if he's not then Fords going to strangle him.

Then some kind of Event happens, and Ford gets a hint on how to figure out how to find Stan. Turned out it took the spirits ten years to fix Stan's crumbling soul to a point where he could semi function, and Stan's just now waking up ???? at the world and meeting who he's pretty sure is the smartest person on the planet. Who else would have such a great idea like putting a bomb under a shield to launch himself higher? No one, he's sure.

When Ford eventually catches up to them he is very obviously of Stan's statement that Emma-May's the smartest person ever and also his best friend :3.

Anyway, since there is no scrapbook or young twins to rekindle Stan's memories, the three of them instead follow Stan's original journey to try and job his memory, after like. Stan's ready to brush off this stranger who has his face, but Ford holds up his hand, yelling at him to wait, and Stan gets slammed with a memory of them as kids, smiling and high sixing. Blinks out of it to find him holding Fords hand, and well he does know this guy actually! Sure he'll go on some kind of journey with him, and Emma-May can go look at a bunch of other ruins and it'll be great :D.

It is not great. All those old temples have been re invaded by demons. The ways Stan originally went through are blocked off or doors broke and relocked, so they need to clear out each one and fight the newer, badder version of the final boss. Turns out the price of Stan coming back isn't his memories getting snatched, its that Bill gets to come back too, and he's not a puny mortal who needs ten years to get back to business. Maybe Bill's actually partially responsible for Stan's missing memory?

Anyway as they clear each temple and defeat each boss they get a fragment of Stan's memory. Ford's not only clearing the newly re corrupted temples, now he's reliving the memory with Stan, seeing how much harder everything is as a normal, not destined person. He's finally seeing Stan's perspective here, how Stan didn't just breeze through everything to shove it in Fords face, but actually struggled and cursed and screamed his way through an army of demons.

They're also uncovering Bill's plot to surprise strike at Hyrule while its two heros are occupied. This whole things been a diversion to get the Stans' as far away as possible, and now Ford's faced with a choice.

He can chose to abandon his quest to restore Stan's memories, as through Drama they're now on a time limit and if they don't get the last fragment there's a high chance it'll fade and Stan's patchy memory could either fade away with it, or he could go to defeat the last boss and finally get his brother back, but abandon Hyrule in its hour of need. Sure he could save them later, but who knows how many casualties there could be, what could happen to Fiddleford.

Does he want to be his brother's hero? Or the peoples? Save Stan, or save all of Hyrule. He might be able to do both, but who knows what kind of damage could happen to the other he doesn't prioritize in the meantime. Stan doesn't have enough of himself yet to weigh in on either one, and Emma-May is a scholar and Stan's friend, but understands the importance of the greater good. She won't make this choice for him.

What does it mean to be a hero?

If this were a video game the first one would be you playing as Stan becoming an unlikely hero, fighting the odds even though everyone's telling you to wait for the guy who's job it is to beat up the demons. The underlying message would be something like 'you can't just sit around and wait, if you want to see a change you have to make it' kind of thing. If Stan hadn't gone on his hero's journey then the kingdom would have been much worse off waiting for Ford to break out. You're a hero, not because someone told you you were, but because you've chosen to take the harder path and make yourself one through fighting evil and helping those in need (after all, even if the reasons are selfish, all anyone sees is your actions. Stan's a hero, even if just because he needed to be one to save Ford).

So the sequel would be this, but as Ford. Now you're the chosen hero, but what does that mean to you? Who has the higher priority, why are you a hero? Because you slay monsters? Because you defeated the bad guy? Because the Goddess said you were? Because you have special powers, wield a special sword? Stan was a hero without any of that, so why does Ford need it? Ford has the Hero's spirit, but in the end he's his own person. He's not going to save the kingdom because someone told him to do it.

He's going to do it because its the right thing to do, even if it means Stan might never be the same. A hero make sacrifices, takes the blows so others don't have to. Ford was born with the Hero's spirit, but he wasn't born a Hero, its something he has to choose to do, something he has to prove himself as.

Whew. that got away from me a little. Now that that's done,

[tosahobi-if]

I have a question, is XST a secret romance?

i wouldn't consider them a secret romance just because i've answered a looot of asks about them HAHAHA and they're established as one of the main four ros. but i will say there's a lot to their identity that is obscured or i've been steering clear of because like the other ros they have a lot of secrets but UNLIKE the other ros they're much larger on the scale of spoilers.

though i wouldn't rule out an actual secret ro just yet.

[erinwantstowrite]

Halloween AU!!!

hey so. i put SOOOOO much effort into this au and for what? at least it ended up looking cool? anyways Halloween is my favorite holiday and i just HAD to make something for them!

i had a LOT of ideas for what everyone would be, but i really wanted to stick to a certain theme cause it's based around Halloween. i knew i had to have a vampire, werewolf, and a witch. cause like... obviously. iconic Halloween stuff!! but i took some liberties with everyone else and i think they turned out pretty cool!!

Jason was originally a fox shifter (which i still love and might draw art for some day) but i went with a bear in the end. is that because i thought about tiny bear cub Jaybin and wanted to cry? yeah. yeah it is. i KNEW Steph was going to be my werewolf though i started doubting myself when i went to draw her. turned out to be my favorite drawing on here which makes sense cause she is my light my love my daughter my will to live and all that jazz

Tim was actually gonna be a harpy but thank god i didn't go for that in the end. Duke was the one that was a bitch and a half trying to figure out BUT!! comments on the post asking what y'all thought led me towards Psychic so THANK YOUUUU everybody that commented!! (specifically those who thought of ghost!! Duke and Tim ended up being a perfect duo in this au)

Babs was pretty easy to figure out what I wanted for her. I read somewhere that they are seen as protectors of forests/ are considered spiritual authority figures and also.... she looks cool as fuck. Did not expect how easy it was to find a ref for a deer in a wheelchair though? I can never find the right hand or face angle reference but that was super easy???

For Bruce there was literally no question he HAD to be human. it's literally so funny that everyone who knows Batman thinks he's a spooky vampire but he's human. his first son, however?????? THAT'S the vampire. I knew Dick had to be a vampire too. A little nod towards that one comic run but in my au nothing bad happens ever 🥰 Damian also being a bat shifter is very on purpose because how funny is it that he's a bat man. Literally not a single person in the League thinks that Bruce is telling the truth about being human. Bruce you are NOT beating the secretly a vampire allegations.

adding in Jay's hilarious joke it's so fucking funny:

Alfred is actually a demon. I CAN NOT remember who made this post so if someone can help me find it, it would be appreciated!! because this was inspired by them!!! but somewhere i saw someone talk about Alfred being a demon that Thomas and Martha made a deal with (i think it was for an au idea?) and I just HAD to put it here. Alfred looks so human and everyone expects it, but he's definitely not. I put the ??? because it's so fucking funny. see if you can spot the 1 hint i put on his drawing that something is amiss!!

Peter is from an alternate dimension still, but it is not a world of creatures like him, it's just the same as LoF canon except Peter grew some extra limbs and eyes. He finds that it's actually pretty easy to fit in with the Waynes. Hard to feel like a freak when a guy can turn into a fucking bear, or your dad is a vampire, and the teenagers in the family are trying to summon ghosts or make potions.

additional doodles for this au:

i am still debating whether i am going to draw something for this au or write a oneshot, but i DO want to do something with these for Halloween

[tokoyamisstuff]

omg I definetly need more about the Invincible variants if you may!!

Second Chance At Love Pt. 2

After -> this <- silly lil' adorable idea by @rainydaygotham (but I made Reader a civilian instead).

Variant! Invincible x gn! Reader

Warnings: stockholm-syndrome, mentions of death, angst, (fabricated) tragic backstory, canon divergence, not proofread

A/N: whew, I never imagined you people would enjoy it this much. thanks for all the feedback, it really means the world to me! 💌🐞

"Our satellites found the missing variant, Sir."

"And what?" Cecil unintentionally stared daggers towards Donald, probably due to the stress and the fact that both of them had given their everything those past 32 hours. "Spit it out, damn it!"

Even through the reflection of his glasses Donald's mannerism were an open book for the head of the GDA, and right now he acted like he always did when he was unsure how to deliver troublesome information to his boss.

But this time it wasn't particulary bad news that made him hesistant, but the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"He-he is...with an old friend of our Mark, and...currently not attacking anyone."

The elder man rubbed his temples, lack of sleep being a steady companion in this profession but damn his advancing age sure made it harder to function properly.

"I want him on screen immediately!" he commanded harshly, voice not even slightly hinting the extent of his exhaustion.

This one apparently is more clever than the original Mark if he was able to slip past their organization's surveilance, Cecil concluded as the spitting image of his involuntary ally popped up on the monitor.

The young Viltrumite perfectly blended in with the crowd, sitting in a tiny suburban cafè far away from all the chaos. On the opposite end of the coffee table were you - not an unknown face to the GDA solely because of your affiliation with the world's strongest hero.

Cecil worked his jaw in irritation at the unfitting piece to this mess of a puzzle he was expected to solve. No way one of them came here merely to catch up with an old acquaintace...

...and yet for now, there were more urgent matters that he was needed to tend to first.

"Keep an eye on them and report shall he do anything out of the ordinary." As if this right now wasn't enough. "As long as he's preoccupied we have one less monster to worry about...for now."

Meanwhile you were sitting in front of your still untouched drink, watching your reflection on the liquid surface.

There was a radio running in the background, almost constantly updating you about how the other variants were still wreaking havoc everywhere, laying waste to the world as you knew it while you were trapped here acting as if it's a normal fucking tuesday.

You really shouldnt't be playing all domestic with a man that's just as much of a villain as his alternate selves currently on the run, and yet you keep reminding yourself that the only reason you're still alive is the uncertain benevolence of that very same person.

Trying to convince him to see the error of his ways or maybe even switch sides was out of the question - this Mark, just as the other sociopaths you saw in the news, has totally lost it a long time ago. You should be glad that he currently entertains himself with this little obsession of his, but that's no guarantee he couldn't snap and reduce you to a bloodied pulp any time.

And still, even though you have no other choice, it felt so terribly wrong to have a date - that felt more like a hostage situation - during an international emergency of apocalyptic scale.

Starting to feel sick as reality of your predicament dawned on you once again, you shoved the cup to aside, bracing yourself to interact with your kidnapper that hasn't initiated anything by himself until now.

Invincible on the other hand had destroyed Levi's orb long before finding you, never having disclosed his true intentions of joining this war. Also, with all the damage he's done the other 19 versions of himself would be sufficient, surely their 'boss' wouldn't care if one went astray from the plan. Not that he ever trusted Angstrom to not stab him in the back at some point, so who cares.

Back in the day you always had some spare clothes for this world's Mark in your room, in case he needed them - which was frankly quite often as they tend to get either torn or bloody from spontaneous fights. Maybe it was the sentimental value that made you keep them long after your friendship had ended, but right now they came in handy.

The other Mark nervously picks and tugs on the fabric, not used to wear civilian clothing after what felt like an eternity. It made him feel incredibly vulnerable to present himself this way. For years his costume had served as a barrier between himself and humanity, a symbol that the person he once was had long since ceased to exist so his Viltrumite side could rise.

Still, those familiar clothes, especially since given to him by you of all people, offered a strange comfort all the same.

At least he looked remotely normal like this, but god this man can be awkward at times. Some things really never change, even across different dimensions. Right now he was a perfect picture of misery, looking at you expectantly like a lost puppy that had just been kicked. Almost adorable, if you shun out the circumstances.

An uninvolved stranger would never believe that this is the villain who reduced entire cities to ashes just a few hours ago.

"So" you finally dare speaking up, casually leaning back in your seat as you take a sip of your already ice cold drink."I take it you're not a Seance Dog fan anymore?"

Noticing the bright logo on his shirt, Invincible actually managed to crack a smile - that trademark lopsided smirk of his that seemed more like a snarl now that you saw it after all this time. "Oh, you'd be shocked: The author is actually one of the few people I deliberately kept alive."

He's right, you are shocked not only with the answer, but the delivery as well. Suddenly you regret having pried in the first place. "Just a joke" he adds as soon as he sees the slightest shift of your expression, clutching the edge of the tabletop in frustration until it left a dent of his handprint.

You don't want to laugh. This isn't even remotely funny, and his reaction was awfully concerning as well. And yet you force yourself to snort, nails digging into your palm in an attempt to keep up the facade. "Glad to know you're as much of a weirdo as the original one."

It amazed yourself how calm and collected you could act, despite being as terrified of him as in the very beginning. Maybe you got used to the feeling already, or you had discovered a hidden talent of working well under pressure. May apply for a job at the GDA if you're ever alive and free again.

For the remaining duration of this afternoon, the two of you exchanged trivial stories about the past with your respective counterparts, many of whom were shared experiences. And as much as you tried to deny it, deep down you were aware you enjoyed this conversation more than you should.

There were only mild differences between your two dimensions as it seemed - at least when it came to your friendship, that was.

Invincible was pretty secretive about anything else really, but judging from the bits he threw in between you deduced he got his abilities way earlier than your Mark, which caused his father to never lose track of his original goal.

Occasionally Mark would state contradictionary opinions and you were sure most of it was just him mindlessly repeating the indoctrination his father had hammered into his head through inhumane methods.

You can only imagine what it meant for a gentle, sensitive soul like Mark to be subjected to a Viltrumite upbringing.

The sun was already starting to set when you were scooped up once again, however this time around you weren't afraid of the height in the slightest. You felt his chin resting atop of your head as he carried you through the sky, holding you firmly but carefully like you were a precious porcellain doll - and compared to his strenght you might as well be.

Yet all you could think of was the beauty of the twilight sky, and how oddly content you felt at that very moment.

Your date had promised to bring you to a secret location with a breathtaking view, and he really did not disappoint. It was in the midst of nature, absent of any human intervention. Just the two of you, surrounded by the sounds of the earth and the sight of the most horrible day in history of mankind slowly coming to an end.

Invincible spread his jacket out for you to sit on, and you secretly appreciated the gesture. A murderer, but also a gentleman, you mentally noted. Ironic. He slumped down on the damp grass an appropriate distance away from you, subconsciously starting to rip out some leaves.

You lean your head against his shoulder and he freezes in his tracks at the unexpected display of affection - or at least he hopes it's the absence of fear. For a long while you remain like this, admiring the view and each other's closeness, until you disturb the comfortable silence.

"How did you..." You hesitated for a moment, but then you met his eyes, so completely and utterly filled with genuine affection that caused something to blossom beneath your ribcage which you didn't want to acknowledge.

Even though you were still wary of him, it was hard to stay objective in the proximity of a literal carbon copy of the love of your life in nearly every single way.

"...how did you become like this?"

There was a long pause between your question and his answer.

"I got my powers shortly before my 13th birthday..." In hindsight, after having met the other variants who got them even earlier, it could've been worse. At least he was granted a few good years. "...and from then on, everything suddenly changed. My mom had an 'accident', so my dad was left to raise me on his own. It was-"

Mark's voice cracked, eyes glossed with unshed tears he was long since taught to repress as they were a sign of weakness. "The only times I felt truly happy was when I sneaked out to see you...I think for a long time those visits were what kept me sane. But nothing went past him..."

He balled a fist in the fabric over his sternum, and there was so much agony in his tone that it made your own heart clench painfully. "Dad- no, he's not a father. Never was. Anyways, Nolan tolerated it for a while, thinking I'd outgrow this sentiment and understand humans are beneath us. But when I turned 18..."

A tidal wave of shame and guilt washed over him, making him unable to bear looking at you as he continued his story. "He made me watch...I should've done something, I should've defended you, but...I was so scared of him. I just stood there when he snapped your neck."

The disclosure of the other's fate ultimately caused the panic attack that was seething inside of you ever since your first encounter with this variant to finally unravel. You frantically tug on your collar as you began to hyperventillate, feeling as if it was actually your neck that was being assaulted.

"Don't worry, I took care of it..." Invincible still had his face buried in his hands, and there was an eerie coldness in the following statement. "It took me a while, but I got stronger just to avenge you...ripped his sorry excuse of a heart right out of his fucking chest."

That's hardly a solace for either of you, isn't it.

Mark looks down at his palms as vivid images of his past crimes creep up on his mind, accompanied by a neurotic laughter that could only be described as absolutely broken...

...until you cup his hands with yours, the gesture conveying emotions you would never be able to put into words.

"Everything felt so pointless after you were gone..." he snivels, not resisting as you couldn't help but tug his head towards your lap. "You have no idea what emptiness you left behind...at some point I started doing unspeakable things just in order to feel something, anything to distract myself from the grief..."

You hum in between choked sobs, weeping for this lost soul as you rake your fingers through his hair, listening to him repeat countless apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry...I should've just flown into the sun...I should've been stronger, better...I didn't want to become cruel...I wanted to be good...for you..."

What were you even doing here? Have you lost your mind?! Snap out of it, this is insane!

"Shh...it's enough. Stop tormenting yourself." No. He deserves far worse. Victim of circumstance or not, this man is beyond saving.

"Accompany me to my homeworld. Let me indulge you the way you deserve. Never leave me again" was what he desperately wanted to say, but instead he gulped harshly around the lump forming in his throat before announcing "I'll take you back home soon...phase one of Angstrom's plan is over, the variants will leave and you're safe again."

"Huh? I thought-"

"Drop the performance" he ordered as he fought to regain his composure. "You can speak freely. I meant what I said, I won't hurt you. Even if you hate me, even if you hurl all kinds of insults and accusations at me...I can take it. I'm just grateful for today. I'll cherish this memory forever."

Yes. This was more than he could possibly ask for. He already destroyed the life of your counterpart in his world, it's not fair of him to do the same to someone so precious twice.

Mark doesn't care what happens to him from now on, because thanks to you he was able to make peace with what happened.

"Come." He jolts up as he wipes his tear-stained cheeks clean, not biding you another look as he fears that otherwise he won't be able to pull through with his good intentions. "It's getting cold, we should-"

"No!"

Out of a whim you tackle hug the Viltrumite, who is caught off guard enough to stagger and fall. You softly punch against his chest and he allows you to let it all out, though he has no idea what you're on about.

"You-you're not like those other variants of Mark...please..." Your bottom lip is trembling as you speak, voice wavering with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher yourself. "Don't leave. If you have nothing to live for in your timeline, then...just stay in this one."

"And then what? Go to the Pentagon and say 'hi, I'm one of the Invincibles that ruined simply everything, but now I'd like to stay here'? They'll never believe that I don't have an ulterior motive!"

"So what? It's not like they can contain or even scratch you. And even if they could, I-I'll make sure to visit you every day!" You giggle like an infatuated teenager as you add that last sentence, and even a maniac like him realizes you must've lost your mind.

God, this is all his fault...

"What are you even talking about?" he almost yells, now on top of you and softly grabbing your shoulders to shake you ever so slightly. "Why are you trying to convince me? That can't seriously be what you want!"

"I-I...don't know." You're staring straight at him now, a stubborn determination in your eyes that almost frightens this unstoppable man. Wrapping your arms around his neck to make your foreheads touch, you whisper "All I'm sure of is that you didn't deserve any of this, and maybe...shit, just give us some time to figure it out, would you?"

Mark's hands were hovering over your body, giving it his best to hold back yet it was a lost battle before it even started. He utters vile curses under his breath before finally crushing you flush against his body, lips brushing against yours as if to ask for permission. You're quick to take the initiative, tossing all reason overboard as you give in to this all-consuming madness some might call hope...

...but just when you were about to pull him in for a long overdue kiss, the man that was straddling your waist mere seconds ago had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The soundwave reached your ears much later than the actual impact, and much to your shock, when you saw not one but two Invincibles - yours having been knocked into a nearby rock formation - you immediately understood what it meant.

"Mark, wait!" you screamed, but your plea went on deaf ears.

After everything your world's Invincible had to endure those past few days, he wasn't even slightly in an amenable constitution. The only thing he was able to feel at this moment was rage, and he needed to direct it to something or otherwise he'd burst.

Sadly the next best target of his fury was the variant right in front of him - a man who not only attacked his homeplanet, but tried to violate someone he once held dear.

Mark will make him pay for trying to harm you.

"C'mon, stand up. Right now all I want to do is hit something...as hard as I can."

[Next Part]

[oneofreid]

a maternal wish (18+)

summary: in which she wants to be a mother and spencer reid is willing to make that wish come true.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: (NSFW) slow burn smut i promise it’s worth it, talks about pregnancy and possible infertility, slight spanking, explicit language, unprotected (p in v) sex, oral sex (m!receiving AND f!receiving), hints of breeding kink if you squint

a/n: i didn’t realize how long i made this. atp i just let my mind do the work while i type. is this cannon? no. will i still post it? yea. masterlist

When you were younger, you always knew you wanted to be a mother. The idea of bringing another life into this world and being able to call them ‘yours’ creating a warm and familiar feeling. One that set off your own maternal instinct. Yearning to love and protect a child of your own as you watched them grow into their own individual person. Teaching them everything that you know, telling them stories of your own childhood, creating countless memories that you can look back on, celebrating their highs and comforting them during their lows. But most of all, the one you craved the most, the bond you would have with your own mini me as you saw the love and magic through their eyes.

Not to mention the many compliments you have received whenever you babysat your nieces and nephews, their mothers telling you how much of an amazing mother you would make someday.

Someday.

That word echoed in your mind as you walked past the countless of mothers in New York. A pang of sadness and jealousy always striking you as you envied them. The happiness in their faces while they walked with their child whether it was one or two maybe even three or four. An ache in your chest grew as you wondered what it would be like to nurture a child. One that you could give the life that you never got to learn.

Everybody knew how badly you wanted to be a mother. Spending countless hours beaming about babies and all things surrounding pregnancy, your teammates — and best friends, JJ, Emily, and Penelope always being the ones first hand to experience this side of you.

Constantly having to drag you away from the baby sections in stores, or listen to you gush about how cute a baby was that you passed.

‘Look how cute and chubby their tiny hands are! I would give anything to squeeze them.’

They could never get enough of your constant daydreams as you talked about motherhood. Envisioning what your life would look like taking care of a mini you. Only praying that one day that dream of yours would come true.

It was a slow day at the BAU, all of you doing your own thing as you sprawled out on the couch. Your feet laying on JJ’s lap while Penelope was on the opposite end, dully scrolling through the channels on the TV in your breakroom. All of you sat in silence until a photo of your cousin with her newborn baby girl popped up on your phone. The familiar ache in your chest appeared as you showed all three of the girls.

“Look how tiny she is,” you exclaimed. Adoring how precious the bundle of joy looked in her tiny hat and little fists balled up. All of them joining you in gushing about how adorable the petite newborn was.

“I just want one so bad,” you sighed. Shutting off your phone as you pressed your eyes shut. The weight of your longing to have a child of your own was heavy on your mind.

“You could always get a sperm donor, you know? I know you said you hated the idea and wanted the baby to grow up with both parental figures. But maybe look more into it, your baby would have an amazing group of uncles and aunts to love and protect them,” JJ assured you, giving you a knowing smile that even if you did decide to raise a baby alone. You and the baby would have plenty of support from the BAU, and the few family members who stuck around once you left your hometown & past life behind.

“Not to mention, you would make the best mommy ever to her! Or him…they would have the best mommy ever. And oh my gosh, how could I forget, pregnancy would look absolutely stunning on you. Kissed by the pregnancy Gods with that glow,” Penelope gushed. JJ and Emily agreeing with her on the fact that a growing baby bump would suit you well.

“I don’t know guys…I’m about to turn 36 years old. My time to have a baby of my own is practically gone. I should just forget it and stay being the cool, rich, secret spy aunt.” You sighed, sitting up from your position on the couch to run a stressed hand through your hair.

“That’s not actually true,” all of you turned your attention towards the tall figure who stood in the doorway, “I mean yes, the number of eggs a woman has in her ovaries does decline as she ages. However, it’s not totally impossible to have a child at your age. 20% of woman usually end up having kids after the after of 35. Erramatti Mangayamma, a woman living in India, was 73 when she gave birth to her child through IVF.”

The four of you stared at Spencer Reid, for what felt like longer than a minute before you spoke up, “I’m just tired of waiting for the right person to have a kid with. That’s what’s holding me back,” you blinked away a few tears that threatened to spill out, “I want the perfect family. Two loving parents. One solid household. Something I never got myself,” you continued.

The room grew quiet again. Nobody knowing what exactly to say as everyone gave you a sympathetic look, JJ offering you gentle squeeze on your shoulder. Spencer awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another as he began to ponder in his mind.

He wanted a baby too. He just wasn’t sure if he was the perfect fit, your ideal father figure for yours.

Emily jumped up. Her phone going off, “Sorry to interrupt guys but we’ve got a case. Hotch wants us in the briefing room now.”

Everyone standing up to leave. Just before you could follow the others, Spencer lightly grabbed your arm. Stopping you completely in your tracks. His warm eyes already filled with some form of hesitation.

“Hey, after we’re done. Let’s meet at my apartment, our usual time. Okay?,” he whispered. Making sure no one else around you could hear. His tone slightly different and his demeanor more on edge, nervous, than before.

“Of course, is everything alright?,” you questioned.

Spencer gulped, offering you a small smile. “Yea, yea everything is perfect. I just…I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Spence,” you smiled. Leaning forward to place a quick kiss on his temple before heading towards the briefing room. Leaving him alone with his thoughts as he followed slowly behind you.

His stomach suddenly tying itself together in knots as the idea of having a kid together, with you ran through his mind.

Spencer always wanted to have a child of his own. Although life had a different plan for him, he was always still open to the idea of one day settling down and starting a family with someone. As time passed by and he got older, just like you, the dream that he once had seemed to be fading away.

That was until he began exploring his relationship. Although you two kept it strictly sexual, friends with benefits at most, the idea of you two getting married and becoming something more always lingered in the back of his mind.

Yet, for some odd reason, neither of you ever had the courage to finally make that move. Afraid that you’d ruin what you already have seeing as you two both had complicated love life’s. So you just stuck to being co-workers that happened friends who liked to fuck sometimes. Okay, more like any chance you got.

Or as it was actually called, friends with benefits.

Fumbling with the material of your shirt, you found yourself at the foot of Spencer’s door later that night. The place you always found yourself at where you indulged in cheesy rom-coms, read your weekly novels together, learned a new recipe, or talked about different wide world phenomenons and conspiracy theories. A space where you were welcomed to let your wildest sexual fantasies come true as Spencer made love to you in endless ways.

Your heart began to race as you contemplated actually knocking or turning around to leave. A feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that tonight would be different.

Not having any time to second guess and change your mind, Spencer’s door flew open. His brown eyes staring right at you, your body already growing hot and bothered at the thoughts of the countless positions he will put you in.

“Hey,” Spencer spoke, a grin already making its way onto his face.

Your heart fluttered even though you had just seen him a few hours prior when you had landed back from yesterday’s case, “Hey.”

“Uhm. Hey, Come on in,” he moved out of the way. Leaning against his door, extending an arm out in a gesture that said ‘this way please.’

You offered him a small smile as you walked past him, admiring his apartment. Still in the same condition it was when you had left it a couple days prior. Hearing the click of the door closing itself shut when a pair of strong arms wrapped their way around your waist, turning you around.

Spencer looked down at you, the same look he had given you earlier being written all over his face again.

“What’s wrong?,” you asked. Genuinely concerned that Spencer was having second thoughts about to tonight.

“Can we sit down? Talk for a second?”

Fuck. He doesn’t want to have sex with me anymore.

Did I say something that offended him?

Is he going to tell me that he just wants to be strictly friends now?

A lump grew in your throat as your mind began to race, the many questions and doubts that flooded your mind about what possibly Spencer needed to sit down to tell you. Allowing him to guide you to the brown leather sofa that sat in his living room. Sitting down beside him as you looked everywhere besides at him.

You took a deep breathe, picking at the skin of your nails before finding the courage to speak, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Uhm. Everything is already. I just…what I would really like is,” Spencer paused for a moment before blurting it out, “I want to have a baby with you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest. The air suddenly being knocked from your lungs while your mouth got super dry.

“Spencer…,” you began.

“I’m serious. I want a baby with you. And I know, this is out of the blue. Our situation is nowhere ideal for the typical upbringing of a children. Hell, we’re not even in an official relationship yet,” Spencer rambled.

“Where is this even coming from, Spence?,” you asked. Unsure of what prompted him to even think of having a baby with you, you, of all people.

He sighed, “Back in the breakroom before we left for the case, I heard you talking to Garcia, JJ, and Emily about how badly you wanted kids. How you wanted your own to raise and love. Anytime that a baby is around you, you are always eager to hold them and your eyes light up.”

You nodded, listening intently to what he had to say as you followed along, “It got me thinking. We’re both in our late 30s. Our relationship is progressing and heading in the right direction. We both want the same thing. To have our own kid, raise them in a stable home with two loving parents. Something we both never had.”

“But what if this, I mean us, doesn’t work. Having and raising a kid isn’t something to take lightly, Spencer.” You pointed out, not knowing if he was actually serious about having a child with you. Or if he was just jumping at the opportunity.

“It’s not something to take lightly. However, I want this and more importantly, I want you. All of it. All of you. Our future. Raising our child or if willing, children, together and growing old. Drinking our coffee, reading our books, watching those horrible reality tv shows that you weirdly seem to love. I never thought I would see myself like that with anyone…,” he grabbed your hand, his warm eyes still completely locked and focused on you, “but I want this life with you.”

Before he could get in another word in, you pulled him up from the sofa. Closing the gap between you two, you crashed your lips onto his. The kiss so rushed yet passionate on both of your ends. You began to moan, melting into him as his large hands roamed your body.

Your own hands finding their way to tug at his hair, pulling him even close to you until there was no room for air. Tugging and gripping at his brown locks while moans left his lips, still hungrily kissing yours. Guiding you towards his bed as the back of your legs hit the soft mattress, sending you both on top.

The kiss you exchanged completely heated, both of you desperate to touch each other properly. Breaking apart from the kiss, Spencer looked down at you with lust-filled eyes. A softness clouding over them as his fingers grazed the collar of your shirt. His shirt. The metallica one that he had let you borrow the one morning you left his apartment after one of your ‘sleepovers.’

“Can I?” Spencer asked, delicately tugging at the loose fabric that covered you, his eyes searched yours for any uncertainty.

Grabbing his wrist delicately, you reassured him. “Spencer, I trust you.” Putting his mind at ease. Allowing him to pull your clothes off of you before he did the same. Pealing his clothing off until the two of you were completely bare. His eyes only growing more infatuated at the sight of you naked and ready for him on the layout of his bed.

Knowing this time would be different than the others you two have had sex.

Spencer slowly took his time to kiss every inch of your body. His lips making their way from your collar bone to the inside of your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave bruises. Marking you officially as his.

“About to make you feel so good, baby,” he mumbled.

“Spencer…I-Ohhh” you moaned, his fingers dipping slightly to graze you only to attach his lips to your folds. Head nuzzled between your soft thighs as he kneeled in front of you, your core pulsing at the sight of him devouring you like you were his last meal.

Watching him suck the bundle of nerves, the arousal in your heat pooling. The sight of him flicking his tongue while he swirled that silver tongue of his on your area driving you feral. Your hands gripping his hair while you pushed his head further, feeling your stomach tighten.

His moans vibrating against your cunt, sending you even further into your climax. Still violently flicking and licking your fingers with every swish of his delicious tongue. You panted heavily, the pace of his swirling and sucking quickly increasing until you came hard.

Humming in approval, Spencer looked up at you. His eyes clouded with hunger and lust while he licked his lips. Collecting the remnants of your cum before swiping his tongue on the inside of your thighs.

“Sweet, you taste like heaven, my love,” he praised. A smirk being sent your way while you eyed him, the bulge more than evident as his cock restrained against his boxers.

“Do you trust me?” You asked, eyes looking up at his brown ones. Still needing the reassurance that he was comfortable with you pleasing him. A boundary you two have respected since the day you first hooked up with each other.

Reid’s eyes softened again, still not used to someone caring for him that much during their most intimate times. A small smile on his face, he grabbed your hand before giving it a squeeze.

“I trust you.”

His eyes softening again, still not used to someone asking for his consent. A small smile on his face, he grabbed your hand before giving it a squeeze.

Giving him a quick kiss, you tugged his boxers down. Your eyes now leveled with his hardened length as his tip glared at you red and angry. Slowly pumping his cock, you ran your hands up and down his shaft. Feeling him tense under your touch, you began to work your mouth on his tip.

Swirling your tongue around his tip, collecting a few drops of pre-cum. Loving the taste of him on your tongue. Arousal soaking your folds again while you thought about him filling you, putting a baby, his baby inside of you.

“You’re so beautiful, Spence,” you cooed. Stroking his cock in your hand, slowly rubbing your hand up and down it. His tip red and aching due to how hard he was for you.

A blush crept on his cheeks at your compliment, muttering a small ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re so pretty’ before peppering kisses down to your collar bone.

Catching Spencer completely by surprise. You grabbed his length by the shaft, forcing it down your throat. Till his tip hit the back causing you to hold back a gag as you choked due to his size. Your saliva coating his cock as you began to hollow your cheeks in and out. Creating a sucking motion as you slid his cock up and down, Reid’s moans filling your ears sending you in a spiral. His fingers knotting through your hair to shove your head further down his cock.

“J-Just like that, honey,” he moaned. The pet name he has only ever used for you falling from his swollen lips.

His moans filled the silent room, continuing to fist your hair while he face fucked you. Tears running down your cheeks with every thrust of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Grabbing the back of his muscled thighs to get a better grip for stability.

“Fuck, you feel-“

In a swift motion, Spencer flipped you on your stomach with your ass on full display for him. Hearing the rustling of his sheets behind you, he climbed on the mattress. Grabbing his still achingly hard dick before running the tip teasingly up and down your wet folds.

A moan leaving your lips while you withered beneath his touch, growing desperate to feel him inside of you again.

“Use your words, baby. What do you want me to do you?” He nipped at the skin of your ears, sucking lightly.

“I….want you,” your breathe hitched as the tip of his cock filled your entrance, shutting your eyes tightly.

“What was that, sweetheart? I need your words. Where’s my please?” He halted, stilling his movements. Your core ached, begging for more of his cock to fill its velvet walls.

Little shit. You rolled your eyes, growing impatient by the second. Debating on just taking his dick into your own hands so that he would finally fuck you. His hands grasping your arse before smacking one cheek. Hard.

“Ohh. Fuck. Spencer, I want….I need you to fuck me. Please, pretty please baby. Fill me with all of your cum until it’s dripping out of me. Till I’m pregnant with your baby. Want to make you a daddy so bad-“

A strangled moan left your lips as Spencer finally thrusted into you, hard and fast. Leaving you no room to breathe while you struggled to catch your breathe. The wind knocked out of you as he continued to thrust into you from behind.

“Yes. Spence, baby, harder. I know you can fuck me harder,” you panted. Ready for him to completely stretch you to your limit.

Feeling completely feral as the bed rocked beneath you. Spencer’s movements harsh and rough, gaining more momentum with every thrust, railing into you from behind. His hand gently wrapped around your throat while he pounded into you underneath. The tip of his cock hitting your g-spot sending moan after moan to leave your body.

His grunts and lewd moans in your ear while he held you flushed against his chest, leaning your head to fall back onto his shoulder. Sweat dripping down both of your bodies as the room grew thick with heat and arousal.

“I can’t wait to fill you with my cum….Watch it drip outside of you. Having you wish that I could fuck you this good every single night while your pregnant with our child, right baby? Isn’t that what you want,” Spencer breathed, his own pants in your ear, moaning louder than you have ever done before.

Roughly pulling out his cock before flipping you over. Your back hitting the mattress while you lifted your legs up, wrapping them around his waist. His hand grabbing to support you up. Spencer thrusting back into you like he never pulled out, both of you keeping eye contact while tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Need to see you…you’re so beautiful, my love. Just look at you. Might have to put a ring on your finger too,” Spencer whispered in your ear. Moaning in your ear as your pussy clenched at his promising words.

The coil growing in your stomach as you peaked in your high. Thrust after thrust, Spencer added more momentum, quickening before finding another steady rhythm. An ache growing between your legs, a definite sign that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Your nails dragging along his back only to pull him in for another kiss. Not having enough to taste of him, you moaned into his mouth. His thrusts never faltering as his cock twitched inside of you. Clenching your walls around his thick shaft, pushing him to release as hot spurts of his come filled you. Your own release mixing with his while he slowly thrusted inside of you. His lips still entangled with yours, nipping at your bottom lip while your tongues swirled. Tasting every bit of each other.

Breaking away from the kiss, Spencer brushed his thumb under your eye. A few tears had fallen from the intensity and roughness of his handling. Both of you silently knowing that you could handle it and that you trusted each other.

He slowly pulled out of you, massaging the inside of your thighs before placing a delicate kiss on them. Leaving to get a wet towel as he gently cleaned your folds. A hiss leaving at your soreness and the harsh sensitivity of your nerves.

“Sorry, angel, I know you hate this part,” Spencer apologized.

You always loved how attentive and loving he was after sex. He always took care of you even if you wanted to rush out, he still made sure that you were okay after being so vulnerable.

“You don’t have to apologize, Spence, I appreciate you taking care of me after this” You smiled, still feeling on cloud nine from the work of his cock and tongue on you.

“I’ll be taking care of you nonstop for nine months then a little mini version of us for a lifetime,” he joked.

Your heart fluttered, still in awe of the fact that someone would want to have a child with you. Let alone someone like Spencer Reid.

“Do you think I’ll make a great…dad?” Spencer stammered. The word, and his soon-to-be new name, still so foreign to him.

His hand nervously playing with yours while he let it silently dawn upon him that he was actually to be one.

“The best. Spence….you are not like your father, you will never be like him. You will make an amazing dad, a caring one who will give his child the best upbringing and life possible that is full of nothing but love.”

Spencers eyes welled up with tears. getting choked up by your words. Knowing that you truly mean them. Already picturing your bump, all the milestones you’d celebrate together, and the life you would soon bring into this world.

He always dreamt of being a father. And now, that dream was become true all because of you.

[hearts4hughes]

hii! can you write how dbf!rafe like still flirting with reader and then he sits her on his lap and she is so embarrassed and he is all smirking and then she starts move on it and he doesn't say anything but you can see everything in his eyes

it happens after a long afternoon of nothing. rafe’s sunk deep into the couch, boots kicked off, a beer balanced on his thigh. the air lingers with sun and chlorine, a hint of sweat still clinging to the back of your knees. music plays low from his speaker. it’s something slow, southern, crooning.

he’s been watching you. not obvious. not all at once. just enough to make your skin warm and your legs tingly.

“you always fidget this much?” he murmurs, voice like the first sip of whiskey.

your head snaps toward him. “i’m not fidgeting.” you drop the frayed ends of your micro shorts and place your hands by your side.

he smirks, doesn’t even look up. “sure you’re not.”

he sets his beer down, leans back, spreads his thighs like he owns the furniture. “c’mere.”

you choke on your spit. “what?”

“i said,” slower now, softer, “c’mere.”

“what if my dad-” you try to think of any excuse in the world to avoid this.

“sweetheart, your dad is on a date. the probability of him coming home at all tonight is low.” he chuckles and your knees buckle.

you hesitate. because you know what he’s doing. but you want it just as bad as he does. your body listens before your brain does. he watches the way you walk over. watches the way you bite your lip like it might save you. then his hands find your waist, easy, confident, like he’s been meaning to do this for weeks. he pulls you into his lap like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

you scramble a little. try not to fall and try not to die of mortification. “rafe-”

“what?” he’s all amusement and all teeth. “just makin’ you comfy.” you’re perched on him like he’s carved for it. your knees on either side of his denim covered thighs, your hands braced on his shoulders, too aware of everything. his smirk deepens. the kind that knows what you’re thinking. the kind that wants you to keep thinking it.

“relax, sweetheart,” he says, voice rough. “you act like you’ve never sat on a man’s lap before.”

you scowl. “not one who’s practically—”

“careful.” he interrupts, eyes glinting with something you can’t put your finger on. your stomach flips. you should move, get up, say something snarky. you don’t. instead—god help you—you shift. not much. just a tiny adjustment. a press of your hips, a second too slow.

his hands flex at your waist, but he doesn’t say a word. so you do it again and again. you’re testing him and teasing yourself. his eyes go dark. hungry. that pretty blue gone storm cloud gray.

he’s looking at you like he could unmake you with a glance. but he doesn’t move. doesn’t push. doesn’t stop you. you grind just barely, breath caught in your throat, and he just lets you. that’s the worst part. because he’s not smirking anymore. he’s looking at you like he’s already imagined the sound you’d make if he dragged you down onto him and didn’t let you up. but he’d rather watch you tremble under it.

you can’t breathe. not really. his voice, when it comes, is low enough to be a secret. “you done?” you nod. his gaze slips to your mouth. his hands tighten, just a fraction. “shame,” he says. “i was enjoying that.”

and you realize that he hasn’t moved, hasn’t kissed you, hasn’t said a single thing he couldn’t deny later. but only because he doesn’t have to. you’re the one who came to him. you’re the one still sitting here. his eyes are saying everything else.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @bibissparkles @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister

[pittrabbit]

warnings: smut, kind of pwp, sexual harassment (from some guy, not pope), afab reader, age gap implied (everyone act shocked), p in v sex, soft dom reader and sub andrew, reader and andrew want each other bad, physical altercation, dry humping, prolonged foreplay, etc etc etc.

summary: you weren't sure how you ended up at this random party by the beach, but you started to regret it when some idiot wouldn't leave you alone. thank god the guy you'd been making eyes at all night decides to come to the rescue.

word count: 5.9k

note: not really happy with this one but here it is i guess!!

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attending a party at some unknown's house by the beach hadn't really been part of tonight's plans. but when your best friend had shown up after work with a pout on her face and an annoying insistence you tag along, you sighed in compliance, slipping on a tiny dress and some kitten heels before trailing behind her.

there was some guy that had invited her, she'd said. you weren't really sure about it, never having heard of the guy or of the people hosting it. she'd stay with you all night, she'd claimed, and apparently parties went down there quite often without any trouble.

you were mostly past your partying days, but being a good friend, you still agreed, knowing it was better to go as a group rather than let her go to a strange place alone.

too bad she hadn't been as good a friend to you at said party.

almost within minutes of your arrival, you'd lost her in the crowd of bodies. as soon as she'd locked eyes with whatever guy she attended the party for, she decided to leave you on your own in favor of going with him. she promised she'd be back, that she'd just hang with him for a while before coming back to you.

and for some stupid reason, you stayed. instead of calling up an uber and drafting some angry text to her, you decided to stay and make the most of it. you wanted to be a good friend, wait around for her so she wouldn't have to go home alone — if she even went back home tonight.

it was a nice house, they had enough drinks to go around, and hell, you looked amazing. it would've been stupid to make the trek back home and waste the twenty minutes it'd taken you to get here (and the hour to get ready) just to turn right back around.

unlike your friend, you weren't really planning to hook up with anyone tonight. you were past your partying era, as you'd told your friend before being dragged here. however, enjoying the atmosphere and maybe dancing a little wouldn't hurt you. you'd keep things casual, just enjoy yourself for an hour or two before searching around for your friend in order to check in (and hopefully leave).

➽──────────────────❥

you grew bored of the party within an hour.

it had quickly turned into rowdy men fucking around in the pool and far too many people spilling their drinks carelessly into the water. after dancing and mingling for a while, you decided to stick to a wall, take the role of a loner and just watch the idiots wrestling one another in the pool.

there was still no sign of your friend (other than a lone text letting you know she'd get back to you soon, she promised!!), and you were in a low social battery mode, so you were really just killing time by holding up the wall.

and you would've been okay with that for another hour or two if it wasn't for the guy that had started harassing you one hour into the party.

it started with a look from across the pool. a very suggestive look, might you add. you were used to those, usually being able to shrug them off and keep it moving. this guy, however, was one of the unlucky insistent ones.

immediately looking away after making eye contact had not been enough of a hint, apparently. no, this man had actually taken that as a sign for him to make his way across the room and join you in holding up the wall.

finding his way to your side, he left about a foot of distance between you as he leaned against that same wall, drink in hand to occupy his hands as he did a terrible job at shooting you subtle looks from the side.

not wanting to be straight up rude, you didn't walk away — a mistake, in retrospect. instead, you became interested in your shoes, the guys fucking around in the pool, the couple making out to your left, just anything but him.

it didnt take long for him to get bored, though. within five minutes or so, that foot of distance became just a few inches, the man now standing shoulder to shoulder with you, leaning down a bit to share his first words with you over the music.

"hey. never seen you around here before. you a friend of the cody's? what's your name?"

god. way too much all at once. not to mention that his breath was too heavy against your ear.

whatever happened to personal space.

"uhm, nope. i'm just here with a friend. actually, i should go look for-"

he stepped closer then, taking your response — however non-receptive as it was — as a welcome to keep talking.

"yeah? i don't see any friend. i've been watching you, actually." he chuckled. "you looked kinda bored. thought id keep you some company."

he smelled like tequila. reeked of it, actually. that was never a good sign. he was clearly drunk, or at least well on his way there.

you took a step back, wanting to revive the space between you. your eyes didnt meet his, knowing he'd also take eye contact as a welcoming sign.

instead, you looked past him. you looked past him in hopes of finding someone else to latch on to, some excuse to walk away.

and past this man's shoulder, you found another pair of eyes watching you, a face you hadn't taken notice of until now.

you kept looking at him, now meeting his eyes. the effect was immediate. the intensity in his gaze had you captivated within mere seconds of focusing your eyes on his own.

he didn't seem to be too tall, but his build made up for it. his arms remained crossed over his chest, a serious look in his eyes. some fresh cuts and bruises adorned his arms, you could tell as much from the small distance between you. there was one on his eyebrow that called your attention. you instinctively wanted to reach out and run your thumb through it, ask if it hurt, how he got it.

usually when meeting someone's eyes in the middle of a crowd like this, someone will look away (usually you), but the two of you stayed focused on one another. you pushed aside any of your surroundings and kept staring, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden feeling his gaze gave you.

he was a little further from the two of you, though still close enough to be able to observe your interaction with precision if he so wished. and it seemed like he was very focused on it. his eyes only left you to stare a hole into the back of the man that had been cornering you. with his eyebrows twisted together, his face showed a expression of slight annoyance at what he was seeing.

you were about to signal him with your eyes, having somehow forgotten the other man in your vicinity, but you were once again rudely interrupted.

"don't be rude, i'm talking to you." he huffed, face tilting to meet your eye line so he could force some eye contact with you.

your eyes finally left the stranger's, refocusing on the unknown man in front of you. you couldn't help but feel even more annoyed now, wanting to continue the silent conversation you were having with the mysterious man, but now being unable to even see him due to your view being blocked by some idiot.

you decided to try again, clearing your throat before responding to him.

"i told you. i'm here with a friend. i should really go look for her-" you made move to walk away, but were interrupted once more, though this time physically.

one of his hands found your arm, grasping it loosely enough to not raise any alarms to anyone nearby, but hard enough to send you a silent message.

"stop lying to me, you cunt. if you're not interested, just fucking say so. have some respect." he practically barked, not caring for the remnants of saliva that slipped out of his mouth.

your fight or flight mode activated as soon as he raised his voice — as soon as he put his hand on you, really. as unfortunate as missing out on more intense eye contact from the cute guy you'd missed sight of felt, you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. before this guy escalated things.

without thinking, you put your unoccupied hand on his chest in order to create some distance between you. that's when you lost your balance and spilled some of the overflow of your drink on him, simultaneously pushing him away with more force than you'd intended.

your eyes were focused on his white shirt, now covered in a burgundy mixture of drinks you'd found in some punch by the kitchen.

before you could react, the man practically growled at you, shaking his head with an angry scoff and throwing his own drink on the floor, making sure it splashed all over your legs before crowding you even more against the wall.

"you fucking bitch. i swear to god, i'm going to-"

you ducked, scared he might hit you or retaliate in some worse way, eyes closed shut and hands covering your face.

but nothing ever came after that.

just a voice. a very neutral one.

"step away." said the voice.

when you opened your eyes, you found the scary man with his hands behind his back, behind him the man with the intense eyes clearly holding him against his will, mouth almost attached to his ear as he directed the threat towards him. his eyes landed on yours when you opened them.

the man tried to get away, failing as he was not as strong as the man who'd stepped in to defend you. "this doesnt concern-"

"either you get the fuck out of my house, or i'll take care of you myself." he tightened his grip, twisting the man's arms and getting a yelp out of him.

he didnt wait for a response, pushing him towards the wall next to you, causing you to jump back at the sudden commotion. a few other partygoers were now watching the scene, but with one threatening look from the man, most of them drew their attention away.

"fucking freak. not worth the trouble anyway." were the last words from that other man, muttered under his breath as he got up and walked away.

the nameless man looked back to you, still looking a little threatening but with a newfound understanding look in his eyes. stretching his hand, he spoke to you.

"come with me."

and you followed, a little shocked and a little shaken up by the other man's actions, but numb enough to not question this guy.

the two of you walked away from the scene, with him leading you without another word.

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within moments, you made it to what you could only assume to be his room. you hadn't asked. you hadn't really said anything in the past five minutes you'd been behind closed doors with your savior.

he'd just led you in here without much information, only telling you "it's empty in here." before taking a seat next to you at the edge of his bed.

he was quiet, serious, a brooding presence. but you still felt safe around him. he'd stepped in and helped you without you so much as asking. any other partygoer near you just ignored what was clearly a threatening presence looming over you while he stepped in and took care of matters within seconds, not a single sign of cockiness or need for praise at his actions.

you'd been attracted to him from the moment you met his eyes. even as you had some other guy showing clear interest in you (far too much, to be honest), your eyes had been glued to his, captivated by the way he looked back at you. you didn't believe in the love at first sight bullshit, but you could at least admit that this was infatuation at first sight. hopefully a mutual one.

"are you okay?"

he finally broke the silence, eyes still ahead of him rather than on you. his posture was relaxed, his avoidance of facing you clearly a result of social awkwardness rather than nerves.

you turned your body to face him, inadvertently causing your knees to touch the side of his thigh.

"yeah, i- thank you for helping me back there, that guy was-"

"yeah. it's no problem." he interrupted, rough, cutting without really meaning to.

silence washed over you again, slightly awkward, slightly comfortable, a weird mixture that left you not knowing what to do.

"uhm, is this your room?" you asked, getting up with some hesitation as you attempted to make some conversation.

"yeah." was all he responded with, though you could now feel his eyes on you, following you as you took slow steps and looked around his room.

you were about to brave a look at some of the stuff around his room before his voice broke out again, making you fully turn your body towards him in question.

"your legs." he began, hand pointing at them as if you needed confirmation as to where they were. "they- his drink spilled all over you. let me help you clean up" he spoke, getting up before even letting you respond.

he exited the room after that, closing it behind him and leaving you there confused.

it only took him a few moments to come back, opening the door and closing it back up as he held rags and a water bottle with him. with the objects in his hands, he gestured at you to sit back down on the bed, to which you obeyed without objection.

now sitting, you gaped at him when he knelt in front of you, nearing your legs far too much for someone you had only exchanged a handful of words with.

"is this okay?" he asked though he'd already uncapped the water bottle, pouring some of its contents on the rag.

"oh, uh, yeah. thanks."

you weren't usually this socially inept, but his blunt yet awkward behavior made you unsure of how to act. you feared that you'd be off-putting to him if you were too forward, but maybe if you kept to yourself too much he'd think you were scared of him. so you opted to just sit there, facing your body towards him and letting him press the damp rag to your calves, which had already gone sticky from letting the punch dry on your skin.

"what's your name?" you asked after a few moments of silence.

he appeared so innocent as he looked up to you. even with the threatening aura he'd displayed outside, he was completely calm in here with you. his wide eyes gave you the opposite effect the man outside had caused in you. you didn't know this man, yet you felt comfortable with him. he was taking care of you. it made you want to return the favor.

him on his knees also caused an entirely different effect on you, but you shoved it aside. it was clear this poor guy had no interest in anything like that. he had you all alone in his room, tiny dress riding up while he had you heavy-breathing at his through a damp rag, yet he remained entirely disinterested.

"andrew."

"andrew." you repeated. "i like it. thank you for all your help, andrew. i'm sorry i caused a scene at your party, i didn't-"

"don't apologize." he interrupted, letting silence invade the room once again.

you couldn't really think of anything else to say, but you didn't want your time with him to end so quickly. maybe he just wasn't interested at all. he kept his answers short, kept all his focus on helping you, getting you cleaned up, didn't engage in any sort of back and forth, nothing that expressed any sort of emotion toward you. those looks earlier at the party must've just been coincidental. he was probably lost in thought and you just so happened to be in his line of sight. there was clearly nothing going on between you.

then he mumbled something. under his breath, not loud or intelligible enough for you to make out.

"sorry?"

you leaned your body down a bit, causing him to look up at you. he stiffened a little when he noticed the closed proximity between you, hand stilling on your calf.

"your name."

you gave it to him, smiling at yourself for getting a few more words out of him.

"i, uh, i like it." he looked back down as he said it, rag now tending to your strappy heels — he was being quite thorough, slow in his movements and gentle as he removed the sticky remnants of alcohol from your skin.

"thank you."

without thinking, your hand went to his hair, fingers running lightly through the curls at the top. they were soft under your touch, long enough for you to pull at if you so wished — and you did wish, only holding back for the sake of decorum.

"i- uh."

you drew your hand away at his discomfort, nose scrunching awkwardly at having crossed a line without meaning to.

"shit, sorry, i-"

"no. it's okay. keep- you can do it again." he looked up at you again, using one hand to draw yours back to his hair, immediately going back to pouring fresh water onto the almost-dry rag and continuing his work.

but you interrupted him, hand leaving his hair in favor of removing the rag from his hand, putting it on the floor next to him.

you had to take advantage of the first time of the night in which he'd been receptive to you. he liked it when you touched him? you could do way better than that.

"why don't you sit up here with me, andrew? i think you've cleaned me up enough."

it was true. by now you were sure he'd even cleaned you off the moisturizer you'd applied on your legs before leaving your apartment. he seemed very adamant in getting you free of any remnant of the party outside, but who were you to complain?

with some hesitation, he let your hand go to his bicep, leading him to sit far too close to you despite his half-hearted attempt to sit a little further. and even as he sat, you didn't let go of his arm, now using your thumb to caress its skin softly, far too softly for someone you'd just met.

"i'm all clean now. see?" your other hand went to his chin, tilting it so he would look down at your legs, but strategically so that his eyes would land on your thighs rather than your calves which he'd been wiping at.

he continued to say nothing, eyes staring straight at your legs before turning back to your eyes, hands firm and resting on his own thighs. you decided to remedy that by taking his hand in yours, resting it atop your legs, fingers intertwined.

"thank you for taking care of me tonight, andrew." you thanked him again, voice sweet, sickly so.

"yeah." he mumbled. he looked down at your interlocked hands before looking back at you, eyes unreadable. but the rising of his chest told you enough.

scooting even closer, legs now completely pressed to his own, you let go of his hand, softly thumbing at the fresh cut on his eyebrow, the same one you wanted to take care of earlier in the day. now you could see it up close, pout at the thought of him hurting even if you didn't know the injury's origin.

"can i return the favor?"

he took a breath, air releasing from his nose, recalibrating almost.

"how?"

"just trust me." you smiled at him. "the same way i trust you."

he seemed to like those words, mouth opening and closing before his hands went down to your waist, aiding you in taking the final step so you could straddle him.

under you, he was sturdy, full of reliable muscle. you could feel the hardness hiding under his skin as your hands gripped at his shoulders. but you didn't need to hold on to him, not when his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you safely pressed against him.

slowly, as if you couldn't risk any sudden movements, you leaned down, eyes resting heavily on his lips. andrew leaned into you, nose bumping softly into yours, lips gracing over your own. it was tense, breaths mixing together before you finally lost your patience and closed the distance, diving in for an open-mouthed kiss.

maybe it was too needy a kiss to give a guy who seemed to keep to himself, but you were surprised to find that he matched your energy with no complaint. his hands gripped at your hips, his mouth open just like yours, tongue being chased and trapped by yours. your hands traveled from his shoulders to his hair, running your hands through it and pulling lightly at the dark amber strands. this drew a muffled groan from him, wordlessly urging you to do it more.

"andrew." you sighed against him, hips beginning to ground into his own, slowly at first, creating an intimate rhythm between you.

a pained groan left him when you began your movements, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress bunching at your hips. his legs opened further, causing yours to do so too, which made it so you could grind even deeper into him. it took him a few moments to match your movements, but when he did, he had you dizzy, moaning into his mouth and enticing him to lick into it.

"are you sure about this?" he asked, though he didn't falter, unlike his eyes that began fluttering in pleasure.

"so sure."

you said it in between pants. you were already affected by him, enough to have your head dropping on his shoulder. taking advantage of the angle, your lips trailed the sharp line of his jaw, finding a sensitive point at the end of it and latching your teeth lightly on the skin.

"fuck."

that was enough encouragement for you to keep going. if you left marks, that was andrew's problem for tomorrow. his skin was already decorated in scars of all kinds, what was a few love bites among them?

"that feels- that feels good."

"i can make you feel even better." you offered with a teasing smile against his skin.

"yeah?"

you nodded with a giggle. you were already lightheaded at the situation — in a good way. in an amazing way. biting your lip as you looked down at him, you lifted your hand, tracing the side of his face lightly, thumb landing on his chin and lifting his face towards yours. below you, you found the prettiest pairs of eyes staring directly into yours. and he seemed just as affected as you. he appeared pained, the sound of his panting filling the room as you delayed the pleasure you'd promised him. your hips had stilled by now, which seemed to be much to his dismay.

"yeah." was all your whispered back before closing the distance once more, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking at it before kissing him again.

this time your hands went down to his shirt, beginning to unbutton it before his hands took over, rushing the process and practically throwing his shirt off. when his hands finally became disoccupied, you dragged yours up and down his chest, appreciating every ridge created by the strong muscle adorning his abdomen. you moaned in satisfaction at the feeling of his warm, muscled skin, making him hum in appreciation.

"god, andrew, look at you."

he had you dizzy with desire. he was so docile, so sweet for you despite his hardened exterior. his skin was so perfect under yours. and his every reaction to your touches had you losing your mind. he was yours in this moment. it was an unspoken agreement. his body sought your touch, a service you were more than willing to provide.

reaching behind you, you guided his hands from your back to the hem of your dress, silently guiding him into lifting it up and throwing it off.

his eyes widened slightly at the sight of bare skin, only covered by a bra and panties. gaze finding you, he opened his mouth as if to ask for something but giving up before the words left him. you answered anyways, pulling his head towards your chest and sighing when his mouth immediately went to kiss and suck at the nude skin.

the barrier your bra caused drove you mad within seconds, so you remedied it by practically ripping it off and letting it fall aside. this earned you another gratuitous groan from the man whose lips were attached to your chest.

softly, his kisses made their way to your breasts, face nuzzling into your skin as he dampened your skin with his saliva. his lips wrapped around your nipple, licking at it with a sigh of relief, reserving his more depraved sounds for when your fingers would dig a little harder into his hair.

"a-andrew ... that feels so nice." you sighed in an almost-whisper. "love your mouth, angel. shit."

and, god, did he like your words.

the groan he let out at that was grueling. it only intensified his kisses, which now morphed into suckles and bites of your nipples. his hands were now digging into your skin, holding you against him as if it were urgent. your hips began moving away, making your eyes roll back at the friction and the feeling of his mouth combined.

"let me make you feel good, handsome." you bit your lip, looking down at him as you pulled his head away from your tits, using herculean effort to not lose your mind at the needy look on his eyes.

the poor guy was so starved of touch, so pliant and willing to do anything you wanted. it was a fucking dream come true. he was barely doing anything, yet he was doing an excellent job at breaking your resolve.

you softly pushed at his chest to lay him down on the bed, his honeyed eyes never leaving yours. before sitting on him again, you dragged off your panties and threw off your heels. that's when you found his hands gripping at the sheets as he looked up at you. he reeked of silent desperation. there was no way this man would take what he wanted from you on his own. you'd have to give it to him, and just imagining how much effort his self-control must've taken him made you lose your own.

you sat back on him, wet cunt likely ruining his pants. your hands undid his belt, haphazardly pulling his pants down while you remained on top. after the fact, you were now straddling him, with his boxers remaining the final layer between you.

biting your lip, your hands dragged up and down his body, appreciating how perfectly laid it was for your taking. he practically whimpered at your teasing touches, swallowing back groans when your fingers trailed up to his nipples and circled around them, not touching but coming near enough for the desired effect of your touch.

"you want this, baby?"

"please."

he was so polite, such a pent-up pretty little thing under you.

you leaned down, body splayed over his own as your lips wrapped around the shell of his ear, nibbling at it lightly.

"tell me how much you want me."

he inhaled, a shaky breath leaving him in return.

"i want you. please-"

"yeah?" you smiled, hands trailing their way down to his middle, fingers teasingly trailing the outline of his cock trapped within his boxers.

it practically wept under you. twitching at your initial touch, you reached under the fabric and wrapped your hand around it, lowering the fabric with your other hand for better access. his breath was heavy when you began working him, head lowering to your shoulder and mouthing at the skin there. his noises were quiet and mostly controlled, but every so often you'd get a broken moan out of him that had you tightening around nothing.

not too long after, you lifted yourself up by your knees, dick on one hand while you balanced yourself with the other by gripping his shoulder. grabbing onto him, you ran the tip up and down the length of your cunt, circling it on your swollen clit for a few moments. this drew moans out of the two of you, which you silenced by pulling him into a deep kiss.

"got a condom, baby?" you interrupted between kisses.

this made him grip you tighter in realization, slowly halting his kisses.

"maybe on my nightstand?"

you reached behind him, removing most of your weight from him. his hands gripped your hips even tighter. he didn't want to let go, risk ending this before it even started. you instinctively pouted at the act, stopping for a second to give him a reassuring kiss on his lips before you attempted to retrieve the condom once more.

once it was in your hand, you did the usual song and dance of ripping it open, pinching the tip and lowering it on his hardness. he hissed at this, mumbling a curse as he looked down at the space between you. when you finally lined him up, lowering yourself on him, you released a sigh of relief.

andrew filled you up to completion. he was so warm and perfect inside you, curving deliciously. it hadn't been in your plans to end the night like this, but the feeling of andrew inside you was all you needed to turn your mind around.

"is that good, baby?" you whispered into his ear.

with the muffled music outside, it felt like the two of you were in a world of your own. you felt as if andrew was your secret, like you could keep him all to yourself as long as no one invaded your bubble.

"feels good. yeah, you feel ... fuck."

"i'm gonna move now, okay? wanna make you cum, andrew."

he gave you yet another pained look, but nodded lightly before settling his hands on your waist. his fingers found purchase on your skin, helping guide your bounces on his lap. it started slow and mellow, passionate almost.

andrew was a quiet man, unnervingly so, but the small sounds of pleasure he released had you in incomparable state of ecstasy. knowing that your swollen walls had him losing his composure, trying but failing to keep down his groans of pleasure, it made your eyes roll back, it made your nails dig into his back, leaving marks you hoped would keep a memory of you instilled in his brain for days to come.

he nosed at your neck, burying his head in the hollow and breathing you in deep. one muscled hand went up to your head, digging his fingers in your hair to ensure you couldn't go anywhere. he seemed to have some unspoken fear that you'd abandon him, not realizing just how good he'd made you feel from the moment your eyes found his.

there was nothing you wanted more than to make him feel good, to break him, ruin him, keep yourself buried in his mind and make him think of you every night he laid on this bed.

"you feel so amazing, andrew. so perfect for me." your hips sped up, creating that erotic sound of slapping skin.

you pressed your hands flat on his chest, softly pushing him to fully lay down on the bed. his eyes, though silent, told you that he did not want any space between you, so you remedied his fear before he could voice it by pressing yourself flat against him, dragging your hips up and down.

your clit dragged perfectly against his pelvis. his hands perched themselves on your ass, aiding your movements. he groaned at the sensation, legs settling flat on the bed to begin driving his hips up into yours. that's when it all became a filthy exchange between you. up until then, it'd all been soft, intimate, but now it was a passionate mess.

"i need you to come." andrew huffed, head throwing back when you tightened at his voice. "need to get you there for me."

"i'm almost there, baby, just- fuck, keep fucking me."

every whine, every scratch of skin, he was receptive to it all. you could feel the physical effect you had on him. without much words, he made you feel wanted, as if he couldn't breathe if he didn't make you feel good. his hands could not get their fill of you, being dragged up and down every inch, fingers tracing every ridge they could hang on to.

"you're so good, andrew- so fucking good." you praised when he brought his hand down to your clit. he knew just how to touch you to get you melting for him, not needing even a nudge in the right direction.

"come for me." he practically pleaded. "i want it. need it." he groaned in a whisper.

and then you came, nails dragging down his chest, surely leaving your mark on his skin, just as you'd wanted. if it hurt, he expressed no pain, only faltering the hammering of his hips when his orgasm finally caught onto him. he buried himself in you as deep as he could, face deep in the crook of you neck as he kissed and sucked a last few love bites into your skin.

when he finished, he didn't let go, instead flipping you off him so you'd lay side by side. he only pulled out when it became uncomfortable, throwing the condom to the side and reaching out to you immediately after. he wanted you close, which you appreciated.

his hands ran up and down your body, latching onto your leg and pulling it to wrap around his waist, removing any possible separation between you. it was like he wanted to melt into your skin, as his hands refused to stop rubbing at every curve they could get to. with his head buried in your neck, he nosed at your skin, breathing it in deep and pressing the occasional chaste kiss there.

"don't leave yet." he broke the silence. "you can leave if you want, just ... just stay like this for a while."

the defeated tone of his voice made you frown. it made you want him closer, want to become his comfort. you wanted him inside you again, but not in a sexual way. in that moment, you'd do anything to make him feel as safe as he'd made you.

you wrapped your hands around him, hands running through his curls as you held him against your chest, cradling him like a baby in your arms.

"i'll stay as long as you'll let me." you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "just wanna be here with you."

he shuddered, kissing your chest again and again.

"thank you."

➽──────────────────❥

note: wouldnt be me if it didnt turn domestic at the end

[norristrii]

SEE YOU NEXT SUMMER?

“I’m sure we’re taller in another dimension.” — During a vacation that felt far too long, you met an incredible boy who turned out to be everything you’d ever hoped for, making the days pass effortlessly. But everything ends eventually.

pairing. Oscar Piastri x fem! reader.

warnings. summer romance, fast romance, angst (happy ending), fluff, this is long. In the honor of Oscar’s win in jeddah!!

music. Champagne Coast by Blood Orange // White Ferarri by Frank Ocean.

WHEN YOUR PARENTS DROPPED the news that your vacation destination would be Australia for two whole weeks, you could barely process it. Australia? The land of scorching heat? The farthest point from home imaginable? The infamous spider continent? The idea alone was enough to make your knees weak. And, of course, to top it all off, you’d be stuck with your endlessly annoying brother for the entire trip. Two. Whole. Weeks.

Every bone in your body screamed no, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. As much as you dreaded the heat, the creepy crawlies, and the inevitable sibling bickering, you couldn’t exactly fight the parental decree. Hesitantly, you started to prepare for what you were convinced would be the most challenging two weeks of your life. But deep down, a tiny voice whispered—maybe, just maybe, this trip could surprise you.

─── day one.

The hotel was a pleasant surprise—five stars, right by the beach, with the kind of luxury that made you momentarily forget your initial dread about the trip. The ocean breeze carried a hint of salt and adventure, and the sound of waves crashing in the distance added to the allure. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Naturally, you did what any girl your age might do—scanned the lobby, the restaurant, and every corner of the hotel for someone who might catch your eye. A good-looking guy, someone who could make this vacation a little more interesting. But despite the promising setting, no one stood out. Sure, there were a few decent contenders, but none of them had that spark, that something extra that made them unforgettable. For now, it seemed the search would have to wait.

─── day two.

Day two of the trip brought surfing—because, of course, your dad and brother couldn’t resist the allure of the waves. And naturally, to avoid their endless teasing, you decided to give it a shot too. Big mistake. Every attempt ended in failure, and by the time you were drenched, exhausted, and thoroughly frustrated, you were ready to throw in the towel.

“Fuck this shit,” you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat as you trudged back to the shore. Surfing was clearly not your calling.

“Hey,” a voice called out, pulling your attention. You turned to see him—a boy walking towards you. Gorgeous didn’t even begin to cover it. His brown, messy hair, and easy smile made him look like he’d stepped straight out of a postcard.

“You look like you’re struggling,” he said, his tone light and teasing.

“Just a bit,” you replied with a shrug, plopping down onto the sand before he could offer to help. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself further.

“It’s actually pretty easy,” he remarked, sitting down beside you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yeah, for locals,” you shot back, your curiosity piqued. “Are you local?”

“I am,” he said with a nod, his smile widening. And just like that, the frustration of the day seemed to fade, replaced by the spark of something new.

“I’m Oscar, by the way,” he said, his smile warm and inviting, the kind that made you feel instantly at ease.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied, mirroring his smile as you felt the tension of the day begin to fade.

“Are you here on vacation?” Oscar asked, his curiosity genuine as he leaned slightly closer, his presence grounding yet intriguing.

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug, your eyes drifting to the waves and the bustling beach around you. The scenery was beautiful, but suddenly, it felt like the most interesting thing here was sitting right next to you.

“Maybe I can show you around tomorrow,” he offered, his tone confident yet easygoing. The suggestion caught you off guard—was he really that interested? You’d known him for all of five minutes, and yet here he was, already making plans. This man didn’t waste a second.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest. The day had taken an unexpected turn, and you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow might bring.

─── day three.

The afternoon was nothing short of delightful. Oscar took you through winding streets and hidden corners of the city, pointing out landmarks, sharing local stories, and revealing spots that seemed to hold a personal significance to him. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how easy it was to talk to him, how natural it felt. And as each moment unfolded, you couldn’t help but feel the pull—an attachment quietly forming with every step.

“Do you want an ice cream? Or do you need to get back to the hotel?” Oscar asked, his tone warm and casual, but there was something in the way he looked at you—something that made you feel seen, important.

“Oh God, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. A playful smile spread across your face. “I don’t want to be anywhere near my brother.”

“Is your brother younger?” he asked, his curiosity genuine and his attention unwavering.

“Yeah, it’s hell,” you said with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, the frustration in your words softened by the humor in your tone.

Oscar chuckled, a smile lighting up his face. “I have three younger sisters,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of sympathy mixed with pride.

You laughed at the unexpected connection, feeling the threads of familiarity weave between you both. There was something comforting in knowing that he understood, that even from opposite ends of the world, there were shared experiences binding you together. In that moment, it felt like you were meant to meet, like the universe had conspired to make your paths cross in this city under the sun.

You couldn’t help but smile as Oscar paid for the ice cream. He paid for it. Such a simple gesture, but it left you pleasantly surprised. “Thank you,” you said, your grin warm as you casually licked your cone, savoring the sweetness.

“Do you want some? It’s so good,” Oscar asked, holding his ice cream out towards you with an inviting smile. You leaned in, trusting the offer, but just as you were about to take a taste, he mischievously pushed it forward, causing the tip of your nose to smush into the cold treat.

“Oscar!” you exclaimed, your voice carrying a mix of indignation and amusement as you instinctively pulled back. Despite your protest, you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling out of you, your smile wide and uncontainable.

Oscar’s laughter joined yours, unapologetically proud of his cheeky move. “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. You rolled your eyes, still grinning, as you wiped your nose with a napkin. This boy was trouble—fun, exciting, and undeniably charming trouble.

─── day six.

As the days blended into one another, you found yourself drawn to Oscar in a way that felt almost inevitable. Every moment you spent together, whether it was exploring new places, sharing laughter over his cheeky jokes, or simply walking side by side in companionable silence, deepened the connection you felt. His easy charm, the way he seemed to truly see you, and his kind, genuine nature—it all made it harder to resist the feeling growing quietly in your chest.

You were falling in love. And it terrified you.

It wasn’t just the idea of loving someone you’d only just met—it was the uncertainty of what came next. You knew this was temporary, that the vacation would end, and there was every chance you’d never see him again.

The thought weighed on you, but at the same time, it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering every time he smiled at you or the warmth that bloomed when his hand brushed yours. For now, you let yourself savor the time you had, even if it meant braving the ache that might follow. After all, wasn’t this what life was about? Taking chances, even when the odds weren’t in your favor.

The stillness of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, the faint ripple of the water in the pool breaking the silence as your legs dangled lazily in the cool water. Resting your head on Oscar’s shoulder, you felt the comfort of his presence, yet your mind raced with uncertainty. The words lingered on the tip of your tongue, heavy and unspoken. What would you even say if you confessed?

“Do you think this is the first and last time we’ll see each other?” you finally asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper. The almost-week you’d spent together had been incredible, but the reality of it being temporary hung over you like a cloud.

“Definitely not,” Oscar replied with a shrug, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. “Maybe we should go on holiday together next year.”

The words brought a flicker of hope, but deep down, doubt crept in. As much as you wanted to believe it, you couldn’t shake the thought that this might just be a fleeting chapter—something beautiful, yet destined to end.

Oscar seemed to sense your worry, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But stop thinking about that, Y/n.” There it was, the way he said your name—gentle, yet with a certain weight that made your heart flutter. “We have the whole week ahead of us.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe for now, it was okay to set aside the what-ifs and simply cherish the time you had left.

As you sat there, lost in thought, the sudden shove caught you completely off guard. Before you could react, you were submerged in the cold, refreshing pool water. The chill shocked your system, but the moment you surfaced, all you could do was glare playfully at Oscar. He stood at the edge of the pool, grinning triumphantly like he’d just won some grand victory.

Rolling your eyes at him, you weren’t about to let him get away with it. With a quick pull, you grabbed his arm and yanked him in, sending him splashing into the water beside you. His laughter echoed around the pool, infectious and light-hearted, mingling with yours as water splashed wildly.

Eventually, the chaos subsided, leaving the two of you floating together in the dim glow of the pool lights. Your playful energy transformed into something quieter, something heavier with unspoken feelings. You instinctively drew closer to him, wrapping your legs loosely around his hips for balance, your faces now just inches apart.

His breath was warm against your lips, mingling with your own as he leaned in close. The air between you buzzed with something electric, something undeniable.

"I feel like I’ve known you my whole damn life," Oscar murmured, his voice rough with emotion. But even as the words left his mouth, doubt flickered in his eyes—as if he wasn’t sure this was the right way to say what he felt.

Then his restraint cracked. "Fuck, Y/n, I want to kiss you so bad it’s driving me insane."

Your name on his lips made your heart stutter. "Oscar, please—" you began, but the sentence crumbled halfway through. You didn’t even know what you were pleading for. But one thing was for sure, you were pleading for him.

For him to kiss you.

Before you could even finish your sentence, his lips met yours in a rush of emotion. The world around you seemed to blur, the cool water of the pool forgotten as the warmth of the moment consumed you both. It was as if all the unspoken feelings, the stolen glances, and the quiet moments had led to this—an undeniable connection that neither of you could resist any longer.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, Oscar’s forehead rested gently against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I think I love you,” you confessed, your voice trembling, barely above a whisper. The words felt fragile yet profound, hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it was the truth, undeniable and urgent.

Oscar froze for a moment, his expression softening as a warm smile spread across his face. Slowly, his hand reached up, brushing aside the wet strand of hair clinging to your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he leaned closer, his gaze locking onto yours.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice steady, certain, and full of warmth that melted every ounce of your hesitation. The world seemed to pause, the water surrounding you mirroring the serenity and significance of this moment. In his eyes, you saw everything—comfort, joy, and the promise of something you never thought you’d find. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

─── day eight.

After the kiss, everything changed. The air between you felt different, charged with an unspoken understanding that hadn’t been there before. You couldn’t deny how your heart swelled with happiness every time you caught Oscar’s eyes, the way his hand would brush yours, or the warmth of his smile when it was just the two of you.

You knew you were his, and he was yours. There was a comfort in that knowledge, a quiet contentment that made the moments feel lighter, easier. Yet, beneath it all, a bittersweet truth lingered—time was running out. Each passing day edged you closer to the end of this fleeting chapter, to the uncertainty of what came next.

Introducing Oscar to your family had felt like the logical next step—they were curious about where you’d been disappearing to, and honestly, you couldn’t hide him forever. As expected, Oscar charmed his way into their good graces effortlessly. Your dad warmed to him quickly, and your brother found an instant connection through their shared love of Formula 1.

But as you sat back and observed the easy camaraderie between them, a pang of sadness hit you. The better Oscar fit into your world, the harder it became to ignore the inevitable goodbye looming over your time together. The thought of leaving him—and everything you’d shared—behind felt like an ache growing in your chest.

You wandered through the souvenir shop, your fingers lightly grazing the shelves filled with trinkets and keepsakes. It was overwhelming—the sheer variety of items all shouting for attention—but something about the display of bracelets caught your eye. Simple, yet meaningful, they seemed like the kind of thing you’d actually hold onto.

As you stood there, contemplating, Oscar appeared behind you, his presence as easy and familiar as ever. “What about us getting matching ones?” he suggested, his voice warm as he pointed at a set of bracelets with tiny initials engraved on them.

You turned to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Matching bracelets?” you asked, raising a brow. The idea was a little cheesy, but somehow, coming from him, it didn’t feel ridiculous at all.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug, that signature grin of his lighting up his face. “Something to remember this by, you know?”

Your heart softened at his words, the quiet meaning behind them making the idea impossible to resist. “Alright,” you said, picking up the pair. “But we’ll never take them off.”

“Deal,” he replied, and as the two of you made your way to the counter, it felt like you’d just added another small but significant piece to the memories of this fleeting yet unforgettable time together.

─── day ten.

The weight of the looming goodbye pressed down on you more heavily than you’d expected. Four days left—it felt like the clock was mocking you, counting down to the moment you’d have to leave everything behind. Lying in Oscar’s bed, the thoughts spiraled in your mind, pulling tears to your eyes. You tried to hold them back, but the ache of it all was too much.

The sound of the door opening pulled you out of your haze. “Y/n, baby—” Oscar started, his voice light, but he froze as his eyes landed on you. The softness in his expression shifted instantly to concern.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentler now as he crossed the room to kneel beside you. His thumb traced your cheek, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling. The warmth of his touch, the tenderness in his gaze—it was only making the ache sharper, harder to ignore.

You managed a shaky smile, trying to play it off, but Oscar wasn’t fooled. “Talk to me,” he murmured, his voice steady and grounding. You couldn’t help but wonder how he had this effect on you, making you feel both comforted and vulnerable all at once. Even in your sadness, being close to him made everything feel just a little bit better, and yet, it was the very thing that made leaving so much harder.

“No, I just don’t want to leave,” you managed to sob, your voice breaking with the weight of your emotions. Oscar’s gaze softened as his eyebrows pulled together—not in frustration, but in gentle concern. The sight of your pain seemed to strike something in him, though he didn’t let it show too much.

“You’re thinking about it again,” he said quietly, his voice calm yet tinged with understanding. He reached out, his thumb brushing away another tear, his touch warm against your damp cheek. It was as though he was trying to anchor you, to keep you in the present even as your thoughts spiraled into the inevitable goodbye.

Of course, he had been thinking about it too. Too much, too often, just like you. The reality of what lay ahead weighed on him just as heavily, but he was trying to stay strong for both of you. And in that moment, as you looked into his eyes, you realized how much he cared—how much he wished he could change the circumstances.

“Y/n, we need to enjoy every second we have left,” Oscar said, his voice firm but kind, as if trying to etch his words into your heart. He cupped your face gently, his eyes holding yours with a mix of determination and warmth. “And I swear to god, we will figure this out.”

The way he said it—his unwavering tone, the quiet conviction behind his promise—made your chest tighten. For a moment, the weight of your worries felt a little lighter, as though his belief was strong enough for the both of you. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, trying to hold onto the comfort he gave you. Whatever the future held, at least for now, he was here, and you weren’t alone in this.

─── day eleven.

Oscar kept his promise, insisting on teaching you how to surf before your departure. At first, the familiar pattern of falling, wobbling, and tumbling into the waves played out again and again. He cheered you on, offering advice, laughing with you through each wipeout, and never letting you quit.

And then, something clicked. As you paddled out and tried once more, the board felt steadier beneath you. “Look, Osc!” you shouted, your voice filled with excitement and disbelief. “I’m standing!”

Oscar’s grin was instant and wide, his voice booming over the crash of the waves. “That’s my girl!” he shouted, his pride shining through every word. For the first time, you truly felt like you were surfing—not just attempting, but succeeding. The joy of the moment was contagious, leaving both of you laughing and celebrating out in the open water. It wasn’t just about the accomplishment—it was about sharing it with Oscar, who had believed in you all along.

As you threw your arms up in celebration, your victorious moment was cut short by a wave that sent you tumbling back into the water. You surfaced, sputtering and flustered, only to find Oscar paddling over, a broad grin plastered across his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though his laughter betrayed his amusement. He reached out, pulling you up with ease while still chuckling to himself.

“Stop laughing!” you shouted, glaring at him, though the corners of your mouth betrayed your own amusement. It was impossible to stay mad when his laughter was so infectious, even if your skills were the joke.

Oscar's laughter softened as his hands moved gently to cup your face, his touch firm yet tender. The world seemed to slow down around you, the sound of the waves and the salty breeze fading into the background. Before you could process the moment, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was as passionate as it was gentle.

It wasn’t hurried or fleeting—it was steady, filled with the emotions neither of you had spoken but both had felt. His warmth, his presence, it all seemed to wrap around you, making the cool water feel miles away. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of you and the unspoken connection that had grown stronger with every passing day.

─── day thirteen.

Tomorrow weighed heavily on your heart as you moved about the hotel room, tidying up the last remnants of your belongings. Returning from the bathroom with an armful of items, you stopped in your tracks at the sight before you—Oscar, sitting cross-legged in your suitcase, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a small smile began to creep onto your lips.

He leaned back slightly, as if testing the suitcase’s comfort, and replied matter-of-factly, “I’m going with you, obviously.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his antics. “C’mon, Osc. I need to pack,” you said, extending your hands to him. He grabbed them with a playful sigh, letting you pull him up to his feet.

Oscar’s gaze lingered on you, filled with an unspoken mix of emotions—tenderness, sorrow, and a quiet determination to soak in this moment. Without a word, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms tightly around you. His embrace was warm and steady, like he was holding onto more than just you—he was holding onto the memories, the connection, the fleeting time you had left.

You rested your head against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for a moment, it felt like the world had melted away. Neither of you said anything; there was no need. The hug spoke louder than words ever could, conveying everything neither of you could bring yourselves to say out loud. It was a goodbye that hadn’t happened yet, and you both knew it.

“I wish I could go with you,” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with longing. His arms tightened around you as he pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, the gesture tender and full of emotion. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace and the quiet weight of his words sink in. It was a bittersweet moment—one that spoke of love, of wanting, and of the inevitability of goodbye.

“Me too,” you said softly, your voice barely audible as you clung to him. The words carried all the weight of your feelings, the unspoken wishes and dreams that you both knew couldn’t be fulfilled. For a moment, the world seemed to pause, holding space for the emotions swirling between you.

─── day fourteen.

The airport terminal felt like a stage for heartbreak, its bustling energy doing little to mask the pain of the moment. As your mom’s words echoed, announcing the departure of your plane, you turned toward Oscar, your feet heavy and reluctant. He looked at you with a quiet softness, his gaze holding steady as you stepped closer and collapsed into his arms.

“Thank you for these two weeks, Osc,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as the tears you’d tried to hold back finally fell, soaking into his shirt. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his presence steady and grounding, even as the ache of goodbye settled deep in your chest.

Oscar tightened his hold on you as the tears continued to fall, his chin resting gently atop your head. You felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, grounding you even as the ache of leaving grew unbearable. Neither of you said anything for a moment, letting the quiet embrace speak louder than words.

Finally, Oscar broke the silence, his voice low and filled with emotion. “You don’t know how much I’m going to miss you, Y/n.” His words hung in the air, weighted with the same sadness you were both trying so hard to keep at bay.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, your hand instinctively reaching up to brush away the tear that had escaped down his cheek. “I’ll miss you too,” you replied, your voice trembling but earnest. “More than you know.”

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and steady against your skin. “It’s not goodbye forever,” he whispered, almost as if he were convincing himself as much as he was trying to reassure you.

“I hope so,” you replied softly, your voice barely audible as you held onto Oscar for just a moment longer. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, but his warmth, his steady presence, gave you the strength to let go.

“Y/n, come on!” your brother called out, his tone impatient, cutting through the intimate bubble surrounding you and Oscar.

You pulled back reluctantly, your gaze meeting Oscar’s one last time. His eyes held the same sadness and longing as yours, but there was something else there too—an unspoken promise, a quiet determination to not let this be the end. He brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch gentle as ever.

“Text me once you get home,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling between you. You nodded, swallowing back the lump in your throat as you turned to follow your family. And with each step toward the departure gate, you felt the bittersweet weight of leaving him behind, carrying the memories of these two weeks with you, knowing they would always hold a special place in your heart.

As you settled into your seat, the low hum of the plane around you was a quiet reminder that this chapter was coming to a close. You glanced out of the window, the world below slowly shrinking as the plane prepared for takeoff. A wave of melancholy washed over you, but beneath it all, there was a quiet satisfaction.

You had spent every possible moment with Oscar—every laugh, every conversation, every memory made had filled these two weeks with meaning. And though the ache of leaving was undeniable, there was solace in knowing you had no regrets. You held onto that thought, letting it bring you a small but steady comfort as the plane carried you away, leaving behind a piece of your heart yet taking with you a lifetime of memories.

─── 190 days later.

Six months felt like a lifetime. The ache of separation didn’t fade as you’d hoped—it lingered, a constant reminder of what you’d left behind. You and Oscar tried to keep in touch, exchanging messages and sharing glimpses of your lives through video calls when you could. But the time zones played their cruel tricks, and the demands of everyday life seemed to conspire against you both.

Conversations were often hurried, squeezed into the brief windows where your schedules aligned. Some days, you missed each other completely, leaving messages unanswered longer than you wanted. It wasn’t for a lack of effort or care—both of you were trying, but the distance made it harder than you had ever imagined.

Still, amidst the struggle, there were moments that brought light to the darkness. A silly photo he sent to make you laugh, a late-night voice message that felt like he was right there with you, the way his name lighting up your phone still made your heart skip a beat. Even though it hurt, even though it was hard, you held onto those moments. They were a reminder that no matter how far apart you were, he was still there, and so was what you shared.

The ringing of the doorbell jolted you awake, cutting through the haze of your groggy mind. You shuffled to the door, barely registering the early hour, until you pulled it open and froze in place. Standing there was a tall figure, unmistakably familiar, with bags hanging off him like he’d taken inspiration from a Christmas tree.

“Surprise, love.”

© norristrii 2025

big thanks to my girl @haniette !! Worked overtime with this one <3

[marvelouslymarly]

Middle of the Night (Bob Reynolds x female!reader)

This is part 2 to my After Midnight fic with Bob Reynolds - read part 1 here

Masterlist

Rated: E for Explicit! MDNI!!!

Pairing: Bob Reynolds/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x female!reader

Summary: After having you for the first time, Bob can't seem to stop thinking about having you again.

CW: as always mild thunderbolts spoiler warning since this is set after the events of the film; 90% of this is pure smut (horny Bob (like, it's bad how needy he is); fingering; unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it, guys :*); choking; the smallest hint at cockwarming right at the end there...); some angst and a little bit of fluff... But mostly just pure and filthy smut, again: MDNI :) [not beta-read bc I wanted to get this out to you asap]

Word count: 4.6k

Hope you enjoy!!! Reblogs and feedback appreciated <3

You felt secure with Bob’s hands resting on your tummy, your chest rising and falling softly, no reason to be scared or tense with him holding you close. There was no activity in the Watchtower apart from the two of you cuddling, enjoying each other’s company without the need to speak. After the events of the evening, your body had felt tired in a different way. It was a physical exhaustion that you weren’t used to. A satisfied fatigue leaving your limbs heavy, your core still sending tiny aftershocks through your extremities. There was a pleasant warmth emanating from Bob, his chest brushing against your back softly with every inhale. Your brain had quieted, no haunting thoughts running through your brain, only the sound of Bob’s calm breaths and the occasional kiss on your shoulder or the slope of your neck. His fingers were drawing lazy patterns on your skin and your own were running up and down his arms. 

“I wanna stay like this forever,” your voice was low, scared that if you talked too loudly this serene moment would dissolve.

You took his hand and kissed the back of it, your fingers playing with his for a second before intertwining. Laying with him felt like second nature. Your bodies fit together perfectly, his the perfect big spoon to your little one. Your legs were tangled lazily, just as if this was how you were supposed to exist. With Bob by your side, your skin pressed up to his. As if everything that had happened in your life was leading you to this moment, leading you to Bob.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” he agreed quietly, his voice already laced with sleep. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent, a content hum falling from his lips. “You smell so good, love. Like summer rain and heaven.”

You smiled to yourself and turned around slowly, your leg slipping over his side and your hand moving up to cup his cheek. You kissed him softly, your eyes fluttering shut when your lips met his, and he pulled you even closer. He deepened the kiss, one of his hands in your hair, the other on the small of your back and you slipped your tongue into his mouth. It wasn’t a hungry and eager kiss like the ones before, it was slow and reverent, both of you too tired to ravish the other one. You tasted each other, teeth sinking into the other’s bottom lip slowly. Your hands held onto each other, digging into the other’s skin with soft determination as if to memorise the hills and valleys of the other’s figure.

When you pulled apart again, his hand was on your cheek, holding you in place, his forehead resting against yours, while you caught your breaths. There were content smiles on your lips, kiss-bitten and full.

Bob rolled onto his back, pulling you with him to rest against his side. Your head moved to lie on his chest and you closed your eyes, listening to the soft thump of his heart beating rhythmically under your ear. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then put his cheek to it, holding you close.

You drifted off like this, his right arm slung over your hip and his left hand holding yours, your fingers intertwined. Your dreams were calm ones, of easy times and comfortable moments. Of moments like this one. Lazy weekends spent lounging and reading on the couch with him. Sunset strolls on the river bank, holding hands and laughing at small things. Coffee dates at your favourite café down the street.

When you woke up a little later, Bob had turned away from you, whimpers leaving his lips. You put out your hand, looking for the switch of the bedside lamp, and then you turned it on, giving your eyes a moment to adjust to the bright light. Your eyes searched the bed, and you let out a sad sigh when you saw Bob, lying on the edge of the bed, his back turned to you, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. 

“Hey, Bob, I’m here. It’s gonna be okay,” you whispered, moving up to him and carefully placing your hand on his shoulder before turning him onto his back. His mouth was hanging open a little and his brows were furrowed in what you interpreted was fear. But then his brows pulled up and a low moan left his mouth, his hand running over his leg and to his hardening dick. Your cheeks heated and your heart calmed down, realising what he must’ve been dreaming about. 

His arm moved to cover his eyes and his hips bucked into his own touch. Your name rolled off his tongue in a low growl and you covered your mouth, biting down on your lip at the sight in front of you, arousal starting to build between your legs. Bob’s hand ran through his hair and his teeth sank his into his lip, a heavy breath leaving his flared nostrils.

“Mhm, just like that, babe…”

He palmed at himself a few times, groaning and whimpering, the veins on his forearms popping. Your free hand made its way between your legs, and then he startled awake, sitting up straight and his eyes wide. His gaze flitted around frantically and then met yours, his Adam’s apple bopping in a heavy gulp.

“Hi,” you chuckled, your hand falling from your mouth.

His cheeks turned a bright pink and Bob fell backwards, covering his face with both of his hands, groaning embarrassed.

“Oh, god,” he mumbled from behind his hands and turned on his stomach, trying to hide his shame from you. “I am so sorry, [y/n].”

“What for,” you asked and laid across his back, kissing his shoulder blade softly. You ran your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and tried to catch a peek at his face.

“That you had to witness… that,” he grumbled and turned his face to the side. “And that I woke you up.”

“Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about this!” You smiled at him sincerely and kissed his cheek gently. “I think it's kinda sweet that you were dreaming about me.”

“‘Sweet?’ Oh, great,” he complained and turned his face away from you again.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you sighed and pouted. “I just meant that… I’ve never… seen someone have a sex dream about me,” you added and sat back down on your side of the bed.

This made Bob turn around, pulling up his leg to hide his hard-on while sitting up as well, looking at you confused.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m serious.” You shrugged and let your eyes travel over his naked body. “Is there something you want me to do?”

You let your fingers walk up his leg and pushed him back down onto the mattress, hovering over him. Bob looked up at you, your hair falling around your face, and he cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin. His eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his lips together in a thin lip while your fingers ran up the inside of his thigh.

“Maybe you could tell me what we did in that dream of yours,” you offered, your voice sultry and low as you leaned down to him.

When his eyes opened again, his pupils were blown, most of the blue taken over by the black of his pupils, and you smirked, brushing the tip of your nose against his. He pulled you down, closing the distance and crashing his lips to yours before turning you over. His left leg slotted between yours, his hard dick pressing against your thigh and you gasped into the kiss at his weight on top of you.

“I’d rather show you,” he muttered and dropped his face to the crook of your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses to the pulsating spot under your ear. He leaned on his fist by your side and his free hand slipped between your legs, a low chuckle leaving his lips, sending vibrations down your spine. “So wet already, doll?”

You turned your face to the side, giving him more access to your neck, and nodded in agreement, your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of his fingers running through your folds. His thumb moved to your clit and your hips met his touch eagerly.

Bob burrowed his face in your hair, his middle finger slipping into your hole easily with a wet squelch, and a smug groan rolled off his tongue. “So needy, huh?”

“I want you so bad, Bob,” you breathed, already a little light-headed. You were still a little tender from the rounds earlier that night, so when he slipped in a second finger with the next thrust of his hand, you yelped a little, one of your hands moving to his wrist.

“You okay, baby?” He purred into your ear and then moved to look into your eyes, not moving his fingers until you looked at him, too. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” There was softness to the low gravel of his voice and his eyebrows knitted together in a furrow.

“No, it’s ok,” you assured and nodded, smiling at the tenderness in his eyes. “I’m ok.”

“Tell me if I should stop,” he told you and kissed you, his lips moving against yours masterfully. 

He slipped his tongue into your mouth and slowly started to move his fingers again. The movements were cautious but deliberate, his fingers curling at the right moment before slipping back in deeper again. The pain you’d felt at first slowly turned into pleasure, your breath hitching when his fingertips brushed against the spot deep inside of you. His lips split into a smirk against yours and you simply nodded, your brain foggy from kissing him and the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“That’s it, baby.”

You looked down at where his hand was between your legs, another moan escaping you, and you let go of his wrist, your hand running up his arm and clawing at his shoulder when his hips started to grind into your leg.

“Take me,” you whimpered into his ear when his forehead fell to your shoulder, the familiar feeling of your nearing orgasm spreading through your lower stomach. Your free hand moved between your bodies and wrapped around his erection, pumping up and down his length.

“Are you sure?” His voice was but a whimper at the feeling of your hand wrapped around his dick and his fingers slipped out of you, leaving you feeling empty again.

You nodded, your hips twisting to his, and kissed him hungrily. Bob moved on top of you, your hand slipping from around his dick and his hips positioning themselves between your legs, and you moaned when his dick brushed against your sensitive cunt. He looked down between you and, without any warning, pushed into you, his hand covering your mouth in anticipation of the loud gasp leaving you.

“Shhh, baby. We gotta be quiet. Wouldn’t want the others to find out what we’re doing, right?” He placed a kiss on your cheek and then rolled his hips back, almost pulling his erection all the way out of you, only to thrust back in a second later.

Your back arched against his chest and your head lolled back at the feeling of him filling you up so well.

“You feel so good around my cock, doll,” he groaned into your ear, the grip of his hand on your hip getting tighter, his restraint from drilling into you waning with everything second. “So wet and fucking tight.” You could hear the pride in his voice and when you met his gaze from the corner of your eyes, you made out the tiniest hint of gold gleaming in his dark eyes.

You wrapped your arms around him tighter and rolled your hips against his, making him slip into you further and feeling his balls at your ass. His head fell down against your shoulder again and you let out a chuckle, his hand still covering your mouth and muffling the sound.

“Oh, you think this is funny, love?” His hand moved to your chin and he turned your head, making you look at him. The gold had fully taken over what was left of the blue around his pupils and you gulped, unable to hide the smirk on your face. Bob pulled his hips back, sliding out of you completely, and he flipped you over. His hand moved to your wrists and he held them tight, while he pulled you up onto your knees to have your hips meet his, your face buried in the pillow.

You tried to look over your shoulder but then he thrust into you again, harder than before and bottoming out, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing through the room. Your eyes squeezed shut against the sweet pain and you bit into the pillow, muffling the moan you couldn’t control. His hand wrapped around your hip and he started thrusting into you relentlessly. The tip of his dick brushed against your g-spot and you arched your back, pushing your hips into his desperate to get even more friction.

“You take me so well, baby,” he groaned into your ear, leaning over your back and drilling you into the mattress. You struggled against the grip on your wrists and he let go a little, allowing you to dig your fingers into the bedsheets before putting his hand on yours. Your other hand snaked around his head and you buried your fingers in his hair, keeping his head close to yours, so he could hear the sweet noises he was evoking from you.

“You like that,” he growled, his voice turning up at the end in a question, and the hand that had previously sat on his hip moved around to your front, the pad of his middle finger connecting with your swollen clit.

A high-pitched moan slipped past your lips and you met his movements, your orgasm approaching fast at the pace of his thrusts. Your legs started to shake and he chuckled, adjusting his arm to carry more of your weight and supporting you better.

“Can you hold on for a moment longer, love, mhm?” His voice was hot against your ear and you shook your head, already feeling the first wave of your orgasm about to hit.

“You feel too good, Bob,” you whimpered, and the grip on his locks tightened when his dick brushed against your g-spot once more, your orgasm washing over you. Your walls clenched around his length and you could feel tears running down the bridge of your nose at the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“That’s it, baby.” The movements of his hips grew sloppier, letting you know that he wasn’t far behind. 

He rode out your orgasm and then his hips stopped suddenly, his dick buried deep inside you, while he came, a string of swear words falling from his lips. You could feel his warm cum trickle down the back of your thigh while he continued to thrust in and out of you, riding the highs of his own climax, while his fingers were working on your clit, sending sparks through your entire body.

When he was done, he collapsed next to you after placing you on the mattress softly, and then pulled you close to him again. You curled up against his front and pulled his hand up to kiss his fingers one at a time, trying to catch your breath. His other hand ran through your hair and then trailed down your arm, his touch soft and lovingly.

“Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes, a content hum leaving your lips. “No, it was just right.”

Bob placed tiny kisses on the top of your shoulder, slowly moving up the slope of your neck and then he buried his head in your neck again.

“God, you smell absolutely divine right now,” he mumbled against your ear, and inhaled again, his hand flattening on your tummy, holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in his arms, sleep trying to pull you back into dreamland. Before your eyelids grew too heavy, you turned your head a little and started:

“Hey, Bob?”

He moved against your back and grumbled sleepily before kissing your cheek and telling you he’s awake.

“I don’t want you to feel bad for… you know…” You stopped for a second, fighting sleep and rubbing your eyes. “For having sex dreams about me or getting yourself off, ok?” You turned around and cuddled up against his chest, looking up at him from under your lashes and going on: “Or you can always wake me up if you need something, yeah?”

He averted his gaze, his cheeks turning pink again and you ran your finger over his cheek. After a moment of considering what you said, he nodded and then met your eyes again, something heavy lingering behind them.

“What’s up, love?” Your smile fell and you moved up a little to be on the same level with him.

“It’s just that… ever since the trial…”, he trailed off, his gaze wandering through the room for a moment before he closed his eyes. He scratched the side of his face with the back of his hand and then took a deep breath, his chin quivering a little. 

“Ever since the trial, every feeling I had… It’s just all so much more intense and my brain - it gets so loud. Like… It did that before, too, you know? But now, it’s like the dials have all been turned up to a hundred. And it’s constant,” he explained and his eyes opened again, tears brimming at his bottom lid.

“Oh, Bob.” You sat up and pulled the pillow you had claimed up to rest your back against, before placing his in your lap. You patted the pillow softly, motioning for him to put his head in your lap, and when he did, your fingers started to run through his dark locks, brushing them out of his face and smoothing them down the back of his head.

“And I feel like, now that I’ve had you… You’re all I can think about. How you taste… how you sound and how you feel.” He looked at you, a lonely tear running down his cheek. “And god, it makes me feel so… like there’s something wrong with me.” His voice broke at the end there and his shoulders started to quake, a sob breaking from his lips.

“There isn’t anything wrong with you, Bob.” Your thumb ran over his cheek, brushing away the tears rolling down the hills of his face, and you pulled up the covers, tucking him in a little. “I don’t mind, really.” His eyes flitted to yours as if to say that he didn’t believe you and he turned his head, facing away from you.

“I know, your brain is probably telling you the opposite right now…”, you tried, your fingers running over his shoulder and down his arm to take his hand in yours, and then continued: “but I don’t get anything from lying to you about this… I don’t want you to beat yourself up about the fact that you get a little horny about me from time to time.”

“Oh, if it was only ‘from time to time’,” he scoffed and wiped away the tears, sitting up next to me. He looked at you then, searching for any sign that you weren’t telling the truth. When he couldn’t find any, he sighed and nodded, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Well, like I said, if there’s ever anything I can help you with…” You leaned over to him, wrapping your fingers around his chin and lifting it a little to make him meet your eyes. “You can always come to me or wake me up. If you need a cuddle… or a shoulder to cry on… or, whatever, I’ll always be there for you!” 

You kissed him softly, the salty taste of tears on his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. His hands held onto you, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your shoulders, as sobs broke from him.

You had worried about this when you’d seen the gold in his eyes earlier, knowing that if the Sentry came out, the Void wouldn’t be far behind. You’d seen him struggle with this a few times in the last months since moving into the Watchtower but this meltdown broke your heart even more. You’d never been this close to him during a bad episode since that group hug in the lab-shame room. You’d never felt his body shake like this against your own, his nails leaving halfmoon shapes in your skin. And hearing the whimpers and cries leaving his lips tore at your heart.

You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly, shushing him softly, and pulled him into your lap, rocking back and forth.

~~~

When you woke up the next time, his lips were on your shoulder blade, fluttering over your skin, leaving behind soft, open-mouth kisses, while his fingers were dancing up your bare legs. His hard dick was pressing up against your ass, and he groaned against your back, his fingers digging into your thigh, while he tried to keep his hips from grinding into you. Burrowing his head in your hair, he sank his teeth into your neck, his breathing heavy already.

“Babe, are you awake,” he asked, his voice barely a whisper and you nodded, still half asleep. “God, I’m so sorry,” he grunted and bucked his hips, his length brushing against your core. You moaned sleepily, arching your back a little, and felt yourself getting wet again.

“I don’t know how to…”, he whimpered and his left hand slipped between your thighs while the other one glided under the shirt he’d given you to sleep in. “I need you…” His voice was filled with desperation, with need, and it went straight to your core.

His right hand cupped your breast and squeezed it, the pad of his thumb drawing circles over your hardening nipple. Your body, still sensitive from the last round and those before, reacted by sending sparks through you, the arousal pooling between your legs in anticipation while his fingers were playing with your clit. His movements were sloppier than before but it didn’t matter because your nerve endings felt like they were on fire, every stroke over your clit waking you up a little more from the slumber clinging to your brain.

“Can I…” He started carefully, his hips stationary behind you, his cock waiting patienty. His fingers slid through your folds with an obscenely wet squelch, and he moaned into your ear. You nodded again, your eyes fluttering shut from both exhaustion and pleasure.

You weren’t used to feeling this needy yourself, your past relationships barely lasting long enough to offer the possibility of multiple rounds in one night. Before, having sex with someone was about taking the edge off, it wasn’t about being with the person you were fucking. It didn’t matter who they were, just that they could get you that relief you needed so badly. 

But with Bob, something had changed. Even with multiple orgasms in one night, you still felt the need burning deep inside of you. You needed to feel him. His fingers. His tongue. His teeth. You needed him to fill you up, balls deep inside of you and fucking you senseless. And you needed him to do it over and over again. You needed to moan his name, knowing that he was yours and that you were his.

His arm snaked around your hip tighter, changing the angle at which his hand slid between your thighs, and you buried your face when his fingers slipped into you. This time, he didn’t wait to add the second one but pushed it in right with the first one. A breathy moan fell from your lips and your hand moved down, fingers digging into his arm. His fingers thrusted into you, wet sounds filled the room and you could feel your cheeks heat at how soaked you were for him.

“Fuck, you sound so good, all wet and slick,” he groaned into your ear and kissed your neck, his fingers keeping the pace of pumping in and out of you and curling at the right moment.

When he felt that you were prepared enough, he pulled his fingers out again, and brought them up to his mouth, licking off your juices, one finger at a time. “You taste so good, so sweet, baby,” he purred, his voice dark with lust.

A satisfied hum fell from his lips and he kissed your shoulder blade again, his hand moving between you to line his dick up with your pussy. He pushed his hips forward, slipping in a little before he pulled back out and angled your hips a little. With his next thrust, his dick glided into you in one go, his balls settling against your ass, and Bob buried his head in your hair, a guttural groan escaping his lips. He tried to catch his breath for a moment, his grip on your hip holding you in place, before he pulled back his hips again slowly. The hand on your breast moved up your chest, pushing up the shirt, and then his fingers wrapped around your throat carefully, making sure to not push too hard on your larynx.

Bob thrusted back in and you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder. He got started with a steady pace and every time a moan dared to fall from your lips, his hand would close a little more around your throat. Your head was getting foggy from the pleasure of his dick filling you to the brim, and you moved your hip against his, trying to get more friction, your climax building quickly.

“So fucking good, baby,” he whimpered and picked up speed, his movements growing sloppier as he was approaching his own release.

Your hand moved between your legs and you bit down on your lower lip when the tip of his dick brushed against your g-spot right as your finger connected with your clit.

“Love it when you touch yourself while I fuck you, doll.”

His teeth sank into your ear lobe and you let out a choked yelp, feeling the first sparks of your orgasm rushing through your body. His cock twitched inside you as your walls clamped around his length, and you stilled, the intensity of your high too much for you. Bob chuckled deeply behind you and held onto you tightly, his warm cum coating the inside of your pussy once more, while he kept rutting into you.

Once he was done riding out your shared climax, his right hand fell from around your throat and caressed the spots his fingers had dug into your skin. Bob covered your shoulder in hot, open-mouthed kisses and massaged your shaking legs with his left hand, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He didn’t motion to pull his half-erect dick out of you, just nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck as his hand reached over to the bedside table to get a tissue for cleaning you up from your mixed arousal leaking out of you. His touch was soft, as to not overstimulate you any further, and your eyes fluttered shut, the exhaustion hitting you hard all of a sudden.

Just as you were about to drift off, you felt his fingers run through your hair and heard his voice near your ear, a soft ‘sleep well, love’ followed by a kiss to your cheek sending you off to a calm and dreamless slumber.

[lxvsiick]

KISS ME RIGHT | MYUNG JAEHYUN

PAIRING: down bad! frat boy! myung jaehyun x library worker! fem! reader 

SUMMARY: Jaehyung goes to the library everyday to see Y/n even though he's never touched a book in his life.

GENRE: fluff, imagine, frat boy

WORDCOUNT: 2k

WARNING: kissing scene towards the end!

A/N: Inspired by KISS ME RIGHT by Keshi -- the song is finally out! i've been waiting ever since his last tour ,, this song reminds of jaehyun’s flirty personality so ENJOY!

The double doors of the library swung open with an exaggerated flair, and every head inside turned like it was a reflex. There he was again—Jaehyun, in all his glory. Hair tousled like he'd just come from the gym, a hoodie slung over his shoulder, and that ridiculous smile that could charm the paint off the walls. He strutted into the library like it was the hottest club on campus, and not the quietest place within a ten-mile radius.

Whispers buzzed through the aisles.

"Is that Jaehyun again?"

"Does he even know what a book is?"

"Bro, he’s here every day now. Do you think he lost a bet?"

But Jaehyun didn’t care. He barely noticed the stares anymore. All he cared about was making his way to the front desk, where Y/n sat. She looked calm, focused, her fingers flying over the keyboard, the glow from her computer screen highlighting her face. She didn’t even look up as he approached.

Jaehyun cleared his throat a little too loudly, startling a student reading in the corner.

"Yo, uh... hey," he said, trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes rehearsing those two words in his head.

She finally glanced up, her brow furrowed in mild confusion. It was like she was wondering why this human embodiment of a golden retriever was trying to infiltrate her serene library world.

"You’re here again?" she asked, her voice neutral but with a hint of amusement.

Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, his usual swagger deflating slightly under her gaze. But he quickly recovered, flashing that winning smile that got him into any party, out of any trouble, and, hopefully, into her good graces.

"Yeah, you know... studying and stuff."

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at the completely empty table he had staked out for himself behind her. No books. No laptop. Not even a notebook. Just him, spinning a pen between his fingers like he was preparing for the next big test in... nothing.

"Studying?" she echoed, clearly unconvinced.

"Yeah, you know... brushing up on... the Dewey Decimal System." He threw in a dramatic wink, like it was the cleverest thing anyone had ever said about libraries.

She didn’t laugh, but there was a tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of her lips. Success.

"Right. Well, let me know if you need help finding a book... or learning how to read." Her voice was dry, and Jaehyun's grin widened.

"Ouch, brutal," he chuckled, his face lighting up like she had just complimented him.

She turned back to her screen, though he could tell she wasn’t entirely brushing him off. That was all the encouragement he needed. Without another word, he made his way to his usual table—smack in the middle of her line of sight. He didn’t sit like a regular person. He flopped down with a dramatic sigh, then spread out across the chair like he was getting ready for a nap, not a study session.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

From her seat, Y/n could feel his presence, like a beam of sunshine she wasn’t sure she needed right now. Every time she glanced up, there he was, pretending to flip through the pages of some random book he’d grabbed. Every few minutes, he'd peek over the top of the pages to check if she was looking.

At one point, Taesan and Leehan walked by and nearly stopped in their tracks when they saw Jaehyun actually holding a book. Leehan nudged Taesan, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Dude, I think he’s... reading?"

Taesan snorted. "Nah, he's definitely planning something. Probably trying to get out of doing chores at the frat house."

Jaehyun pretended not to hear them, but he couldn’t help shooting a quick grin their way. Let them talk. He was on a mission—a mission that involved far more staring at Y/n than reading anything resembling words.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

As the library’s closing time approached, the once-crowded space thinned out. Y/n was busy packing up her things behind the desk, when she noticed Jaehyun still lounging in his seat, scrolling through his phone. Everyone else had left, but he lingered like he had all the time in the world.

She walked over, standing at his table, crossing her arms with a bemused expression. "You know we’re closing, right?"

He glanced up, his puppy-like enthusiasm returning as if she’d just thrown him a bone. "Oh, yeah, totally. Just waiting for the right moment to—" He glanced down at the book in front of him and then looked back up, suddenly sheepish. "—check this out. For... studying. You know, tomorrow."

She shook her head, but this time, the smile she’d been holding back all day finally broke through.

"You’re hopeless."

He stood up, grinning ear-to-ear. "Nah, just... committed."

She raised an eyebrow, a challenge in her eyes. "To studying?"

He stepped closer, playful but serious. "To you."

For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the quiet, empty library around them. Then she laughed—soft, real. And in that moment, he knew every second of pretending to study had been worth it.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

The bass from the speakers thumped through the walls of the frat house as Jaehyun stood near the kitchen, laughing with his friends. Red Solo cups in hand, they exchanged stories from the week, loud banter filling the air. Jaehyun was mid-sentence when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

Out of the corner of his vision, Y/n stepped through the front door, her figure silhouetted against the dim lights of the hallway. She was wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her frame just right, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders. The noise of the party seemed to dull in his ears. He froze, his eyes locked onto her as if the world had slowed down just for a moment.

His friends continued chatting around him, oblivious to his trance.

"Yo, bro... hello?" Sungho waved a hand in front of his face. Jaehyun blinked but didn’t move.

"Earth to Jaehyun! What are you staring at, man?" Sohee nudged him, noticing where his eyes were glued.

His heart pounded in his chest, his mind still trying to process how she—Y/n—was here, in this chaos of beer pong and blaring music. She didn’t belong here, but she looked so effortlessly out of place, it was almost unfair.

"Bro, you good?" Hanbin laughed, realizing why he was distracted. "Dude’s done for, he’s totally smitten."

Jaehyun shook his head, snapping out of it. He chuckled awkwardly, trying to act nonchalant. "Yeah, uh, I’ll catch you guys later." He set his cup down on the counter and started weaving his way through the crowd toward her, his pulse quickening with every step.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

As he neared her, she looked around the room, clearly unfamiliar with the party vibe. Her eyes landed on him, and she smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He stopped a few feet away, his voice unsteady.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, more confused than anything. "Who invited you?"

She raised an eyebrow at his tone, folding her arms over her chest. "Jake invited me. I thought it might be fun." Her voice was cool, as if his question wasn’t welcome.

A flare of jealousy twisted in his gut, and he frowned, glancing around the room, wondering why Jake had to ask her. "You should’ve said no to him. This isn't your scene." His voice came out sharper than he intended, his frustration laced in every word.

Y/n scoffed, clearly annoyed. "Excuse me? You don’t get to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do." She took a step closer, her gaze hardening. "I didn’t come here for Jake. I came because I wanted to see you. But if this is how you're gonna act, maybe it was a mistake." Her voice cut through the noise, her disappointment evident.

Before he could even respond, she turned on her heel, moving deeper into the house, disappearing into the crowd of bodies and flashing lights. He stood there, dumbfounded, replaying her words in his head. She came to see him.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

His heart sank. He felt like an idiot. Without wasting another second, he pushed his way through the throng of people, his mind racing. How could he have messed up so badly in just one conversation?

"Hey, have you seen—" he asked one person, cutting himself off as he realized they didn’t know who he was talking about. He scanned the dance floor, the kitchen, even outside by the keg, but she was nowhere in sight. His frustration grew with every passing second.

He was a guy who could read a room, crack a joke, keep the vibe light. But right now? He was frantic. His friends slapped him on the back as he passed, asking him what was up, but he brushed them off. He couldn’t let her leave thinking that was all he had to say—that she wasn’t welcome here, when in reality, she was the only person he wanted to be around.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was really just a few intense minutes, he spotted her standing near the back patio, her arms crossed as she talked with a couple of people. She looked frustrated, her foot tapping lightly against the ground.

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over to her, determined to make things right.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and made his way over to her, determined to make things right. 

As he approached, the people around her seemed to sense the tension, exchanging glances before slowly stepping back, leaving the two of them alone in the middle of the patio. The noise around them faded into the background.

Jaehyun opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then the words just spilled out.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out earlier. I was just... I don’t know, I saw you in that dress and... and then when you said you came to see me and not because of Jake, I just—" He paused, his hands gesturing wildly as he tried to find the right words. "I got jealous. It was dumb. I shouldn’t have said you shouldn’t be here, because I want you here. Like, I always want you here, not just at parties, but anywhere, and I—" He was rambling now, his thoughts tripping over each other in his rush to explain.

"—I just, I like you. A lot. And I don’t know how to deal with that sometimes. You’re... you’re like this amazing person, and I’m just the guy who’s pretending to study just so I can see you, and that probably sounds stupid, but—" He was talking faster, his words stumbling over each other. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he wasn’t even sure if he was making sense anymore.

Suddenly, Y/n stepped closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. Without saying a word, she stood on her tiptoes, leaning in.

Before he could process what was happening, her lips met his.

Time seemed to stop. His heart did a somersault, and his thoughts went blank. Her kiss was soft, brief, but it left him utterly frozen, like his brain couldn’t catch up with what just happened.

When she pulled back, Jaehyun stood there, completely stunned, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he tried to make sense of reality. For a moment, it was as though his whole world had paused.

Y/n looked at him and burst into laughter—an easy, melodic sound that broke through the tension. "You should see your face right now," she teased.

Her laughter snapped him out of his trance. His shocked expression melted into a grin, his heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

"Wait, you—" he started, his voice trailing off in disbelief.

She smiled, stepping closer again, her gaze soft but teasing. "Yeah, I like you too. Even if you pretend to read at the library every day." She gave him a playful nudge.

A flood of relief and pure happiness washed over him, and without thinking, he closed the gap between them, gently cupping her face and bringing his lips to hers once more. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of it. He could feel the smile on her lips, and it made him grin into the kiss.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[spidercatweb]

Your Embrace and My Collapse ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: fem!bau!reader, migraine!reid, angst, hurt/comfort, tiny bit of fluff at the end, established relationship, Spencer is snippy and a little mean but it's because of migraine, Spencer yells at reader, reader is sad for a bit, non-specific case details, mentions of women being murdered, a hint of misogyny from a suspect, one single swear word, umm nothing else I don't think? lmk if so. this is set in s6 :)

Description: Spencer has a migraine, he yells at r when it gets too overwhelming, he regrets this later, calling to apologize.

Word Count: 3.1k

Request: Hi! First off I loveee your blog!! Second off could I get a spencer reid x fem!reader where they r having an argument about literally anything and then a lot of spencer groveling? thanks for considering

A/n: thank you sm for the request, anon!! I am just now realizing that what happens in this isnt much of an argument 😬, but i quite like how it turned out. I hope you enjoy!! <3 Is it obvious i got carried away w this one?

After four years of working with Spencer, and nearly two years of dating him, it wasn't surprising that you were the first to notice that something was wrong. 

The past few days, Spencer hadn't gone on as many long rambles as usual. Maybe he was just tired this week, cases have been very time consuming lately. Not that they usually aren't.

You figured out what was wrong when you saw him squeeze his eyes shut and rub them with the base of his palms. Three times in an hour. Unusual. 

After the team finished delivering the profile for the current case, you took a moment to pull him aside. 

"Are you feeling okay?" Concern in your voice, you reached gently for his hand. 

He pulled away. "Yeah, I'm fine." His face scrunched up, he shut his eyes tightly and his nose crinkled up. You'd find it cute if it wasn't obvious he was in pain. He pressed into the bridge of his nose with two fingers,clearly trying to ease a headache.

"Okay," you gave him a small smile and nod, "let me know if you need anything, I've got Advil in my bag." 

"I know, thank you." He made an effort to return your smile.

"Reid, Y/l/n, we've got a lead. Garcia's about to fill everyone in." Hotch's commanding voice cut through the calm, quiet bubble around the two of you. 

The team filed into the briefing room of the BAU. Thankfully, the case was local. You were glad to be in a familiar place. 

Garcia was already seated at the small round table, tapping away on her laptop. You sat down next to Spencer, Prentiss sat on your other side.

"Lovelies, we have a small problem. I've found two men who almost exactly fit our profile."

"We'll bring both of them in for questioning, then. What do we know about them, Garcia?" Hotch directs the attention back to her.

"I was just about to tell you that, sir. First up, we've got Landon Adams, 27 years old. His childhood was... less than nice. Plenty of trips to the hospital, poor thing. Lots of injuries consistent with abuse. And I'm assuming everything going on at home was related to the multiple reports of violence towards his fellow students at school. Multiple suspensions, and he was expelled from his highschool." She takes a quick moment to switch the information on her screen.

"Second guy, Cole Parker, 29 years old. Similar childhood to Adams. Frequent hospital trips for supposed accidents, bad behaviour at school, suspensions, an expulsion. Oh and get this! They both work in construction! Different companies, though."

"Do we have home addresses and places of work?" Rossi chimes in.

"We do, sir, I've already sent them to you all." Garcia smiles proudly, always one step ahead.

"Thank you, Garcia. Alright, Prentiss, Morgan. You two go to Adams' home. Rossi and JJ, you go to his workplace. Seaver and I will go to Parker’s home. Y/l/n and Reid, you two go to his workplace." 

Everyone nods at Hotch as they receive their placements. The team splits up accordingly, each pair heading to a different SUV. Exiting the Quantico building, you see Spencer wince at the brightness of the sun. You sigh quietly. You don't like seeing him in pain, but you have a job to do. You'll talk more later.

The car ride is quiet. You drive, Spencer sits in the passenger seat. The silence isn't exactly comfortable, but it isn't awkward. You roll down his window just a little, to give him the fresh air he so obviously needs. You take the time to theorize about the suspect. Will he even be at work? Will he run? Put up a fight? You hope not.

As you pull into the small, gravel parking lot of the construction company, you sit for a moment to prepare yourself to talk to whoever is managing the place. In your experience, people in this line of work aren't often eager to talk to FBI agents. You look over at Spencer, he must have put on his sunglasses when you weren't paying attention. He now looks a little less irritated without the sun in his eyes. Good. 

You gently place a hand on Spencer’s knee, catching his attention. “You ready to go?” 

He brushes his hand over yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Yep.”

You both step out of the car into the bright sun. The sunlight reflects off of tiny, glistening specks in the gravel, and right into your eyes. You squint as you head to the front entrance of the building alongside Spencer, now wishing you’d also brought your sunglasses.

The inside of the building is similar to the outside. Concrete, dusty, smelling strongly of diesel. You noticed how Spencer scrunched up his nose at the pungent scent. 

The only other person inside is an older man who introduces himself as Mark, the manager of the building. 

“You two are FBI? Really? Well what are you two doin’ out here?”

You ignore the man’s questioning of your authority. “We’re here to ask you a few questions about one of your employees, Cole Parker?”

“Ah. Well, he called in sick today, and I’m not one to judge, but he didn’t sound very sick on the phone. If you ask me, he’s ditching work to be with that new girlfriend of his.”

“Girlfriend?” Spencer asks. He glances over to you, the unsub had been killing young women. If Cole Parker was your guy, this new girlfriend of his could be in danger.

“Yeah. He’s been yammerin’ on about her for the past week. Her name is Carol… or Christine? Somethin’ like that. Hard to keep up. He gets tired of em’ fast.”

Interesting.

“Have you noticed any shifts in his behavior lately? Short temper, violent outbursts, things like that?”

“Hm. Y’know I’m really not sure, I’m not around him long enough to notice. Might be better to ask some of the guys. I can give you the address of the site they’re workin’ if you’d like.” He offers.

Spencer pinches the bridge of his nose again, his vision beginning to blur. “We’ve already got two other agents headed there right now, but thank you.” 

The man notices Spencer’s clear discomfort, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Fine, thanks.” He runs his hands through his hair anxiously, further tousling his already messy curls.

“Thank you for your cooperation, sir.” You hand him a card with your work phone number, “Please call me if you remember any important details about Cole.”

He puts the card into his shirt pocket. “Of course. Have a nice day, you two.” 

As you both exit the building, Spencer stops right outside the door, running his hands over his face with a sigh.

You turn to look at him with concern. “Spence-”

“I just need a minute. I’m fine. I’ll meet you in the car.” His eyes are squeezed shut as he faces the ground, rubbing his temples.

You respond with a quiet “okay”, and silently head back to the car, where you wait for him. You put the air conditioning on blast as you pull out your phone to call Hotch.

“Hotchner.” He answers quickly.

“Did you and Seaver find Cole?”

“Yes, we’re just about to bring him in for questioning. How’s it going over there?”

“His boss told us that he can’t keep a girlfriend for too long, always switching between girls. He didn’t notice any other odd behaviors though. We’re just about to leave.” You spot Spencer walking over to the car.

“Alright, thanks. See you at the precinct.” He hangs up the call.

Spencer slides into the passenger’s seat, looking slightly calmer than before. “Who was that?” 

“Hotch. Him and Seaver are bringing Cole Parker in for questioning.” You turn the air conditioning down a little, so it’s still cool but not as loud, not as irritating for Spencer.

“Good.” 

***

Spencer leans his head back on his seat and closes his eyes. The drive back is just as silent as the drive there. By the time you get to the police precinct, Spencer is half asleep. He opens his eyes slowly. Squinting at the light coming through the windshield, he turns his head towards you.

“Hi.” You huff out a small laugh, earning a small quirk of his lips. “Feeling a little better?”

“Mm.” He sighs with a nod, “a little, I’ll be fine.”

You reach over and comb your fingers through his hair, he leans into your touch. You fix a few stray hairs that stick out, then give him a peck on his cheek. “Let’s go.”

***

The lights in the precinct are bright, filled with the chatter of nosy police officers. They flock around the team as you all enter with both suspects. Hotch and Rossi take on the task of interrogating, with the rest of the team on standby if needed. You stand behind the two-way mirror with Seaver and Reid. You listen intently to every word, you note mannerisms, you profile. That is your job after all.

Cole is becoming frustrated after only thirty minutes of interrogation. Hotch stays calm and collected as Cole’s volume rises. 

“I’m telling you! I was nowhere near there! I was out with some guys from work. Ask ‘em, they’ll tell you.”

“We did. They all had pretty different stories. We also got security camera feeds from the alley that night. Are you telling me that isn’t you?” Hotch slides a grainy photo across the table. The lighting is dark and the quality is less than ideal, but it’s clearly Cole in the photo.

He groans and mumbles something under his breath, “those bitches deserved it.”

“Pardon me?” Hotch prompts him to repeat himself.

“I said they deserved it! Every last one!” He yanks hard at the cuffs grounding him to the table, lunging at Hotch.

Hotch doesn’t move a muscle. “Alright, that’s enough.” He nods to the two officers standing at the back of the room. They move to restrain the man and bring him to a holding cell.

You look up at Spencer, who at first glance, seems fine, like he’s just thinking. But you notice his glassy eyes and flushed face. He tries to inconspicuously shield his eyes from the flickering fluorescent light above his head. Seaver notices this too, she gives you an “is he okay?” look, you give her a shrug and a worried look that says “I have no idea.” She exits the room to go check on Rossi and the others, leaving you and Reid alone.

You hover beside him, not wanting to worsen his pain any more. After a few moments of watching him silently suffer, you hear a sniffle. He’s crying. You get a sinking feeling in your chest, all you want is for him to be okay. 

“Spence,” you whisper. No response. “Do you want to sit down? I can get you some water,” you offer kindly. 

He shakes his head, massaging his temples again.

“Are you sure? The case is pretty much wrapped up. I’m sure Hotch wouldn’t mind.” Your voice stays soft, gentle.

He raises his voice “God, I’m fine! It’s fine! Nothing will help, just… Just stop trying to help me. I don’t need help.” You spot him wiping a tear from his face as he storms out of the room.

You don’t follow. Maybe he needs some time alone. You respect his wishes. You don’t help. Though you’d really, really like to. Instead, you follow Seaver’s trail to the second interrogation room where Rossi is still digging deep into the other suspect’s mind. You watch through the two-way mirror.

“Really, Landon? Were you really stopped on the side of that road for a nap? You were on your way home, weren’t you? Why not wait until you got back?”

“I was tired. I didn’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Alright. You’re sure you didn’t see anything suspicious? No … man lugging around a woman’s corpse? Burying her?”

“No, man! I was sleeping!” He throws his hands up in the air, as much as one can while cuffed to a table. He sighs defeatedly.

Hotch slides past you and into the interrogation room. He lets Rossi know that while he’d been interrogating, Cole Parker had fully confessed to the murders. He spared no detail, including  ones the police and FBI hadn’t yet shared with the public.

Rossi gives Landon a half-hearted apology and a pat on the back as the officers uncuff him.

***

You help Hotch to get a written confession from Cole, which takes longer than usual, because his handwriting skills aren’t exactly the best. But you sit in the room with him, waiting, as he drops the occasional rude comment directed towards you, his victims, or the police.

While sitting silently, you think about Spencer. You wonder if he’s okay. You think about what he said. He doesn’t need help from you. He doesn't want help from you. Leave him alone for once.

You shake the thought out of your head. He’s in pain. He didn’t mean it. This does little to ease the anxiety spinning in your mind.

“Hey, lady. I’m done writing.” He drops the pen down onto the metal table with just enough force to express his annoyance.

“Good. Did you sign it?” 

“Of course I did. What? Do you think I’m stupid or something?” He’s clearly looking for a fight.

Unamused, you respond. “No. I think you’re a serial killer with a severe lack of respect for women. I was just checking. A lot of people forget.” You slide the paper towards yourself and look it over before placing it into a file folder. You give a nod to the officers in the room and they take him away. You leave the room after them, meeting up with the rest of the team except Spencer, who’d reluctantly gone home per Hotch’s instruction. Thank goodness someone else noticed.

Hotch pulls you aside for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind if you left to help Reid. There’s not much left for us to do today anyway. You’re free to go.”

You hesitate. He doesn’t want help. He doesn’t need you. 

“Okay. Thanks Hotch.” You give him a faint smile as you go to grab your things.

***

Instead of heading to Spencer’s apartment, you go to yours. You want to check up on him, but don’t want to pain him with a blaring ringtone, and he was most likely staying away from screens, so he wouldn’t see a text. You keep him in your thoughts as you change out of your work clothes and settle down for the night. 

***

Spencer lies on his bed in complete darkness. At this point, the pain had brought him to tears. He hadn’t eaten anything due to the nausea looming in his stomach, which only made the headache worse.

He needed something. A distraction. Nothing loud. Nothing bright. Nothing that would irritate him further. He wanted you. He needed you.

He thinks back to what he said to you earlier. Why would I say that? Well, he knew why he said it. Scientifically. Higher sensitivity, more pain, more irritability, this leads to outbursts. He just wanted it to stop. He didn’t mean to yell at you.

He sighs, shifting to be face-down in his pillow. He just wants to feel okay. Why won’t it stop? What’s wrong with me? A pained whine escapes him as he decides to try to get some rest. 

***

Your phone’s ringtone pulls you out of your sleep. You grab it from your nightstand, checking the time first. Who’s calling me at 12:30am? Spencer. You answer with some hesitation, anxiety still whirrs in your mind, residue from hours ago. 

“Spence?”

“I really- I’m really sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it. And I know that’s not a good excuse but-” His voice is quieter than usual, strained.

“I know you didn’t mean it. You weren’t acting like… you. I was worried.”

“I said I didn’t need help but I’m um- really rethinking that right now. And I’d completely understand if you didn’t want to but um- could you maybe come over? I just really want someone here with me. I want you here with me.” 

You could tell from his voice that he was still hurting, he was scared. You get up without a second thought. 

“Of course, Spence. I’ll be right over.”

He sighs with relief. “Thank you.” 

***

Spencer hears the lock on his door click as you enter. He stays right where he is, in bed. 

You walk in as quietly as you can, leaving your shoes at the door and trying your best to navigate around in the dark. You nudge his bedroom door open and whisper a quiet “I’m here” as you spot the outline of him in his bed.

He sits up slowly with a small hum of acknowledgement. “Hi.” He reaches to turn on the lamp beside his bed.

“No, don’t, you don’t need to turn it on. It’s fine.” You reassure him. “Do you want me to get you anything? Water? Meds?”

“Both, please. Meds are on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in two seconds.” You head to the kitchen, spotting the meds once you turn on the lights. You fill a glass with ice, then water, grab the box of meds, then rush right back to Spencer’s room, turning off the kitchen lights as you leave.

You carefully hand him the glass of water, he thanks you, then takes a long sip. You hand him two tablets of his meds, and he swallows them with the water.

“You want to try to get some sleep?”

He nods, “Yeah, but these usually take about half an hour to kick in, hopefully they do kick in. I’ll probably be able to sleep then.” Your eyes have now adjusted to the dark, you can see him give you a small smile.

“You want me to stay?”

“I’d really like it if you did.”

“Alright, move over then.” You don’t wait to slide into bed next to him. It warms your heart to hear him giggle slightly from this.

***

Your next hour is spent with Spencer curled up to your chest, with your fingers carding through his hair. The room is silent, save for your breathing and the sighs he lets out every so often. You stay awake until you’re sure he’s asleep, then for a little while longer, just to make sure. Finally, you can’t keep your eyes open any longer, and you’re pulled into a calm sleep. You hope that when you wake up, everything will be okay. And it will be. Because it always is with Spencer.

Thank you for reading! <3

Feedback is very much appreciated!

My requests are open!

🪻

[yoiisa]

Hi!!!! I just wanna say i adore how you write for the wb boys, can i request them ( suo, sakura, nirei n sugishita ) courting the reader? headcannons if you may:3 thank you!!

ofc ofc! ( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ

➜ suo hayato is the gentleman of the year ➜ he knows flowers, as seen when he visits that old man with tsubaki, so pictures this: a tiny bouquet ➜ EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. ➜ roses, lilies, tulips, whatever you could possibly picture he delivers ➜ he also writes notes to go with them ➜ when you ask him what it means, he just pats your head and ignores the question. after all, what's the harm in a little tease?

"Oh, she's back!" you hear someone shout as you open the door to the classroom. "[name]! There's a present for you~" Present? You rip open the wrapper for your red bean bun and take a bite as you walk towards your desk. As you swallow your food you ask, "Present?" "Someone from bofurin came by today! He had an eyepatch!" your friend explains, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She and a few other girls start pushing you towards your desk, trying to get you to see the gift quicker. "Hurry up! Go look!" As your eyes finally fall on your desk, you can't help the slight blush that creeps onto your face, as well as the small smile. A small bouquet of three red tulips and two white ones rests on your desk, as well as a small notecard folded up. On the front, all there said was Hayato ♡. As you pick up the tulips, running your fingers along the edges of the petals, you hear someone behind you go, "I want a boyfriend so bad~" "Well," you say with a soft giggle, turning around to look at the small group of girls crowding you, "he's not my boyfriend. Not yet at least." They stare at you dumbfounded before one of them practically shouts, "The fuck you mean he's not your boyfriend! Girl get him before someone else swoops in, what are you doing?!" You nod absentmindedly as you open the notecard. You smile falls and your eyes widened as you read over Suo's scrawls. You feel your cheeks warm as you look up and out of the window. Nirei and Sakura stand at the edge of the courtyard arguing, while Suo stares up you, hope glowing in his soft gaze. When you nod, gifting him with an elated grin, his mouth parts in a relieved smile and all he can think is one glorious thought: Finally. You're mine.

➜ sakura haruka is lost. completely and totally lost ➜ he considers going to suo or nirei, or even hiragi for advice, but decides that doing so would result in him dying of embarrassment ➜ as a result, he goes to kaji for help instead ➜ but it's like dumb and dumber of romance with the two of them, so it just ends up turning into a big mess when he finally makes a move on you ➜ but the whole situation is so uniquely sakura you can't help but find it endearing in the end, and ultimately, it ends up with you two getting together anyways

"Are you sure this'll work?" Sakura asks as Kaji drapes an acoustic guitar over Sakura's shoulders "You've been practicing, haven't you?" Kaji asks. When Sakura nods, Suo snickers from the corner of the room. Nirei swats his arm as Sakura shoots him a withering glare, but Kaji grabs Sakura's face and redirects his attention. "Ignore them, just focus on her," he commands, and Sakura nods seriously. It's six o'clock, and the entire first year classroom is decorated with electronic candles and rose petals. Suo, Kiryu, Nirei, and Tsuguera helped kick everyone out and decorated the place while Kaji helped Sakura practice the guitar. The entire time, Suo kept trying to hint at Sakura that this was too much, but the other boy kept brushing it off. If he wanted Suo's advice he would've just gone to Suo. This crush had been going on for too long and finally Sakura had managed to muster up the courage to deal with it. If you rejected him . . . he didn't know how he'd manage. When you walk in, Sakura short circuits. He bumbles his way through the song, his voice occasionally going pitchy and his fingers clumsy on the guitar strings. As you blink at him, walking down the pathway of rose petals, he can feel his heart aching more and more. This was stupid. This was the stupidest way for him to confess to you. What the fuck had Kaji been thinking? What the fuck was he thinking?! This wasn't going to work, this was going horribly, he fucked it all up, why would you ever- Suddenly, your hand lands on his, stilling his strumming, his heart actually breaks. He thinks he might cry, but from the way you're looking at him, a loving smile, eyes shimmering with happy tears, he stalls. "I'll go out with you Haru," you say. "Please stop singing now." The boys watch from the hallway windows, their eyes worried and anxious to see your reaction. But then, they see you taking the guitar off of Sakura, and hugging him, and they all breathe out a sigh of relief, Kaji especially. "Why are you so surprised that this worked?" Nirei admonishes. "You almost killed him in there!"

➜ nirei akihiko spends a solid month writing out plans in his notebook before he makes any move on you ➜ that and he goes to kiryu for advice almost religiously ➜ kiryu becomes like the pope of romance to nirei, and he takes his word as gospel ➜ when he tries to confess to you the way kiryu suggests though, it puts you off because it's so disingenuous to nirei's true nature ➜ it's a little messy, but eventually the two of you work it out

Nirei nods emphatically. "Okay, got it. Plushes. What else?" He's like a duckling, trailing after Kiryu. Suo and Sakura stare at him pitying, and Kiryu feels like sponge drained of all information he can give. Tsuguera takes a sip of his protein shake and claps Nirei on the back. "You got this man, just be yourself." "No! Kiryu, please I need more help-" "Nirei," Kiryu says, his smile tight and his voice clipped. "I told you everything I could've possibly told you. There's nothing more. Now, go confess to her already. I need a break." Kiryu slumps against Sakura, who blushes bright red and shoves Kiryu onto Suo. Nirei looks down at his notebook and sighs. His notes are messy black ink scribbles. They take up two whole pages, but he still feels like it isn't enough. Never mind that though, it's now or never. The next day, Nirei invited you to go to the park. The sight that meets you is . . . a one to behold for sure. Nirei has clip on piercings, his hair tied back, silver gothic chains around his neck, eyeliner on his waterline, and is sitting on a picnic blanket with food from Pothos. But that's not even it. Along one of the sides of the picnic blanket is a stuffie of literally every single Sanrio character that possibly could exist. Hello Kitty, Keroppi, Pochacco, Pompompurin- "Sit down, please," Nirei invites, gesturing across from him. You sit and fold your hands in your lap, feeling out of place to say the least. Nirei serves you some food and you eat in mostly silence, before he starts his speech. It's pretty . . . and sounds nothing like Nirei at all. It's like he had Kiryu as a ghost writer or something. When he finally finishes and asks if you'll be his girlfriend, you disappointedly ask, "Am I going to be Kiryu's girlfriend, or your's, Akihiko?" When Nirei stares at you blankly, looking a bit like a kicked puppy, you sigh. You take his hand in yours and squeeze. "I'd love to date Nirei Akihiko . . . not this weird thing he's acting like. So next time ask me like my Akihiko, okay?" The next day, he does the confession right: after he walks you home, he asks shyly, but it's a hundred percent him. You hug him and nod, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against him.

➜ sugishita kyotaro is the same as nirei, but instead of kiryu, he turns to umemiya ➜ but umemiya actually kinda sucks at romantic advice though . . . so sugishita is promptly redirected to tsubaki ➜ tsubaki . . . who has been waiting for a chance like this ➜ he had full on board meetings with sugishita, umemiya and the other devas ➜ sugishita is immensely uncomfortable sharing this much of his personal life with all of these other people, but at least he's getting advice, so he just shuts up and deals with it

"And then-" Tsubaki starts, but Takumi cuts him off with a "Oh, but wouldn't it be nice if Sugishita gave her a portrait? Really capture [name]'s beauty like that?" Tsubaki considers this before Saku reminds Sugishita, "Make sure it's not too flashy. Generally that doesn't go very well in the first move. Wait until the fourth or fifth month anniversary for that." Hiragi grumbles and says, "You guys are assuming he'll make it to the five month mark? Aren't you getting too ahead of yourselves? He hasn't even confe-" "Don't say such things Hiragi!" Umemiya admonishes. "He needs encouragement right now, not to be put down!" "I'm not putting him down, I'm being realistic!" "Guys, please stop fighting-" Tsubaki cuts in, but Umemiya and Hiragi just keep on. Sugishita sighs as he watches his upperclassmen go at it. He knew he shouldn't have told anyone about his crush. Dragging other people into his business was only going to make things more complicated. He'll just keep his emotions buried deep inside his chest forever and ever, and one day he'll die and none of it will even matter anymore. He stands to leave, but just as he starts walking to the door to the roof, it swings open and you step out. You look up at him and smile. "There you are. I got excused from school for a doctor's appointment, but I finished it a little bit ago. I figured I'd come see you." You peak over his shoulder to see all the devas and Umemiya staring you down, with an intense look. As if they're expecting something to happen? "Are they okay?" you ask, pointing at the older boys. Your eyes widen as you see Sugishita's eyes boring into yours and his face turning red. "Go out with me," he chokes out through his embarrassment. "I like you. Go out with me." You blink up at him blankly, taken aback completely by his sudden confession. You hear Tsubaki add in a tiny, "Please," before you giggle and take Sugishita's hand in yours. "Okay, Kyo, where should we go?" You lead him off the roof. As he's closing the door behind him, Sugishita sees Umemiya wiping a happy tear of his face, looking like the proudest parent in the world. "Ahh, they grow up so fast," he says as he turns away from the door. "No thanks to you," Hiragi scoffs.

A/N: oof idk why but Nirei's took forever to write lmao. Anyways, good news! exams are all done, so we're gonna be back to regularly scheduled fics!

[goofygubegubler]

Spencer reid 7 mins in heaven👀

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚 (𝑺.𝑹)

wc : 687 | F!Reader (Established Relationship – First Kiss) | cw: intense makeout, sexual tension, confined space, emotional vulnerability, nervous rambling, Spencer being quietly confident

A/n : Hit me up if you want a smuttier version where they’re just ripping each other’s clothes off and Spencer is being all quietly confident (my current weakness, don’t judge me ahhh).

Seven minutes. Just seven minutes.

You muttered the words under your breath as the door to the dimly lit closet clicked shut, sealing you inside with Spencer. A week ago, this wouldn’t have been a big deal. A week ago, he was just your best friend.

But now?

Now he was your boyfriend. Officially. And that changed everything.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up here. You’d planned to come to the party on your own—it was your friend’s birthday—but Spencer, ever the protective one, had insisted on tagging along. Not because he liked parties. He hated them. Crowds, noise, unpredictability—everything about them made him uneasy.

But he came anyway. Jacket half-zipped, anxiety tucked behind his polite smile, just to make sure you were safe.

And now? Somehow, the night had taken a wild turn, and you were being shoved into a closet with him during a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven. The scent of old wood, alcohol, and too many teenage mistakes clung to the air.

Your heart thundered.

You leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, trying to still your thoughts.

"Okay, so technically, we don’t have to do anything," you blurted. Your voice was higher than normal, tinged with nervous laughter. "It’s not a rule or anything. People act like you have to make out, but that’s just peer pressure. We could just stand here. Talk. We talk all the time, right?"

Spencer didn’t flinch. He simply watched you, calm as ever, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"We do talk a lot," he said.

You gestured around the tiny closet. "Exactly! So this is just another conversation. In a super cramped, badly lit box that smells like someone’s bad decisions."

He chuckled, soft and low. The sound sent a bolt of heat straight through you.

You could feel how close he was—how one step forward would have you pressed chest to chest. The air between you changed, charged and heavy, your breath catching in your throat.

"I mean—it’s funny, right? Because we haven’t even—"

You stopped yourself, cheeks flushing.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Haven’t even what?"

Your voice dropped to a whisper. "Kissed."

Silence stretched, thick and unspoken.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just looked at you like he could read every word you hadn’t said.

Then he glanced at his watch.

"We have approximately four minutes and twenty-six seconds left."

You blinked. "So… what do you want to do with that time?"

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he stepped forward.

Slow. Deliberate. Sure.

One hand came up to your jaw, his fingers feather-light as they brushed your cheek. The other settled at your waist, grounding you.

And then—he kissed you.

Hot. Intentional. A little messy in the best way.

You gasped softly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips moved with slow precision, like he was learning the shape of your mouth, the sound of your breath. His tongue swept against yours, teasing, drawing out a whimper you didn’t recognize as your own.

Your back hit the wall. His body pressed into yours. His hand at your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him.

You melted into it. Into him.

Your fingers found his hair, tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth—low, raw—and the sound made your stomach twist and your legs nearly give out.

It was more than just a kiss. It was everything unspoken, everything simmering beneath every glance and conversation. Pent-up, burning.

When you finally broke for air, you were both panting.

Foreheads pressed together. Lips still brushing. Breaths mingling.

"We really wasted the first half of this, huh?" you whispered.

Spencer’s voice was rough, low. "We’ve got time to make up for it."

And then—

Knock, knock.

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” someone called, followed by exaggerated giggles and mock gagging.

You flinched, but didn’t pull away completely.

A breathless laugh escaped you. "So, uh… that happened."

Spencer smiled, rare and wicked. "It did."

Neither of you moved just yet. The moment lingered, soft and full of unspoken promises.

And somehow, seven minutes didn’t feel like enough at all.

[melagnes]

The Camping Trip

Description: What starts as a school camping trip quickly turns into something else when you end up sharing a tent with Melissa Schemmenti. The night got colder, and Melissa? She’s more than willing to help warm you up.

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Word Count: 1.9K

This trip was supposed to teach the kids valuable outdoor skills—teamwork, self-sufficiency, survival. You know, all those things that sounded great on paper but, in reality, just meant a bunch of fourth graders crying over bug bites.

Ava, a self-proclaimed doomsday prepper, should have been thriving out here. The woman had a bug-out bag ready to go at all times. But you’d underestimated one crucial factor: her hatred of dirt. You all knew she would much rather be glamping. The second she realized there were no air mattresses involved, she peaced out without so much as a backward glance.

“See y’all on the flip side,” she called over her shoulder, flashing two peace signs before disappearing like a mirage.

Meanwhile, the rest of you were left with the grim reality of sleeping on the actual ground.

Barbara, being the queen that she was, had already staked claim to a solo tent before anyone could protest. That left the rest of you staring at each other, silently weighing your options.

Someone had to supervise the kid’s tent.

Jacob tried to make it fair; he snapped a handful of twigs off a nearby tree and held them out in his fist. “Alright, whoever pulls the two shortest sticks will sleep in the tent with the kids.”

Melissa snorted. “You say that like you’re not about to rig this.”

“I would never–”

“Jacob,” you inject.

He deflated, “…Okay, fine, but I should get points for creativity.”

One by one, everyone picked. Janine groaned when she saw her tiny stick. Then Jacob glanced down at the remaining stick left in his hands—also devastatingly short.

“Aw, come on!” he whined.

Janine sighed. “Man, I really thought manifesting a tent with Barbara would work.”

Barbara, already fluffing her camp pillow in her tent, didn’t even look up. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

Gregory held up his stick, comparing it to Mr. Johnson’s. Both were noticeably longer. “Uh… I guess... it’s you and me, Mr. Johnson. Our sticks are... longer. So.” He awkwardly cleared his throat.

“You snore?” Mr. Johnson shot him a look.

Gregory immediately tried to act cool, though there was a hint of defensiveness. “What? Me? No, I don’t snore. That’s more of a–uh–Janine thing.”

Janine whipped her head around with wide eyes. “What? I do not snore!”

Mr. Johnson just raised an eyebrow at her. “Sure you don’t, Janine. I’m watchin’… I’m always watchin’.”

Janine sputtered, her face turning bright red. “I—okay, maybe a little, but it’s not that bad!” She crossed her arms defensively, “You know what, you’re just jealous that I’m a deep sleeper. That’s all.”

Meanwhile, Melissa clapped you on the shoulder with a grin. “Looks like it’s you and me, hon.”

You swallowed. Hard.

Could be worse.

Before the sun set and it became time for a campfire, the teachers split off to help assemble the tents, which mostly consisted of Melissa taking charge while you… tried.

“You gotta secure the poles first,” she said, arms crossed, watching as your structure wobbled like a baby deer.

“I did secure the poles,” you protested.

“Ms. Schemmenti’s right,” one of your fifth graders chimed in. “Your tent’s as wobbly as a Skibidi Toilet.”

“Yeah, you need to tighten the ropes,” another added helpfully.

Melissa stepped in, grabbed a rope, and gave it a solid tug. The whole thing collapsed like a house of cards. She raised an eyebrow. The kids burst into laughter.

“Okay, so maybe not as secure as I thought,” you muttered.

Melissa just smirked—that slow, smug kind of smirk that made your stomach do an embarrassing little flip.

“Let’s copy Ms. Schemmenti’s tent!” a student shouted.

You sighed, the weight of defeat settling in. If this were Survivor, you’d be the first one voted off. The kids knew more about wilderness survival than you. The teacher.

Melissa, as cocky as ever, swatted your shoulder, “Good thing I’m here, huh?”

Good thing, indeed.

By the time night fell, it was campfire time. As proven, you’re not the most wildernessly inclined, but you do know one thing; the combination of fire and children, was problematic.

You’ve never been a big fan of campfire songs, but you would sell your soul to Gregory for his unique ability. He single-handily kept the kids entertained as to prevent them from falling into that (somewhat) raging fire.

He was a campfire song connoisseur.

His voice reverberated through the brisk night air as he strummed his ukulele, “C-a-m-p-f-i-r-e s-o-n-g song and if you don’t think we can sing it faster, then you’re wrong, but It’ll help if you just sing along.”

Wait- was that, SpongeBob?

“Gregory, you genius,” Janine mumbled.

Brother can speak FAST. It went on for 3 more rounds—until the kids were completely breathless.

Now it was Jacob’s time to shine. 

“As a history teacher, it is my duty to know and understand what has happened on this land before us.”

“Of course he would know the lore of the campground,” you muttered under your breath (in a loving way).

“It was the year 1876; the Centennial Exposition, which in fact occurred the same year as—”

You couldn’t help but tune him out a little. Melissa was seated next to you on a log, allowing you to feel the heat from her thighs pressing into yours. It was distracting. Sue yourself.

A simple glance could tell you the kids were terrified of Jacob’s tale.

“They say, his ghost still wanders the campgrounds at night, looking for more victims…” He trailed off wagging his finger. “So, you better sleep with your mouth closed. You don’t want him to poison you in your sleep, do you?”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared, too,” Melissa murmured in your ear which definitely didn’t cause you to jump a mile high off the log.

She chuckled in pure amusement. “Thought so.”

“Huh, I’m not scared.”

“It’s ok hon, you can admit you’re scared of a ghost from 1876.” she laughed causing you to roll your eyes, but your smirk betrayed your true feelings.

Jacob finally realized what he had done when he caught sight of a girl taping her friend’s mouth shut.

“Oh no, guys—”

“Thank God, he has to supervise em cause, there is no way they are sleeping tonight.” Melissa slowly rose from her position on the log; she looped her arm with yours to drag you to the tent. At that moment, you realized you were in for a long night.

You stuttered for a brief second as colour dusted your cheeks, “Agreed. However, he put this upon himself.”

By the time you climbed into the tent, exhaustion had fully set in. The problem? The temperature had dropped, and your sleeping bag was about as effective as a paper towel.

Melissa noticed before you could even pretend you weren’t shivering. She let out an exasperated sigh and, without hesitation, pulled you closer.

“C’mere, before you turn into a popsicle.”

Your brain short-circuited immediately.

“This isn’t weird, right?” you mumbled, trying—and failing—to sound normal.

Melissa scoffed. “Not unless you make it weird.”

Oh. Oh, you were definitely making it weird. At least in your mind.

“Well…” you trailed off, your voice quieter now. “You’re really close.”

“Yeah? You got a problem with that?” Her lips brushed your ear as she leaned in, her breath warm against your skin.

“No, of course not, it’s just-”

“Relax,” she whispered, voice softer now as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m trying,” you muttered. “It’s just… hard when we’re lying on the ground.”

She chuckled, her breath warm against your skin. “Wow, you’re still freezing.”

You shifted slightly, trying to ignore the fact that you were practically tangled together now. Her arm draped casually over your waist, her palm pressing against your back like it belonged there. You weren’t sure if the warmth creeping up your spine was from her body heat or something else entirely.

“It’s not that bad,” you muttered, voice embarrassingly shaky.

Melissa propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at you. In the dim glow of the lantern, her eyes gleamed.

“You got some kinda death wish, or do you just like bein’ stubborn?” she teased, voice lower now, rougher.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could get a word out, she kissed you.

Warm. Firm. And entirely too brief.

By the time your brain caught up, she had already pulled back, smirking like nothing had just happened. Warmth spread throughout your body, and it certainly rose to your cheeks.

“See?” she murmured, settling back down. “Warms you right up.”

You stared at the ceiling of the tent, dazed. “Yeah. That’s… that’s definitely one way to do it.”

“How about another one for good measure?” she raised an eyebrow.

You nodded, slow and dazed, your eyes fluttering shut as the weight of words failed you.

Melissa didn’t need them. She took that as a yes, leaning in until her lips captured yours once more. This kiss was deeper—less tentative than the first. Her mouth was warm, insistent, and soft in a way that made your breath hitch. You barely registered her fingers weaving into your hair until they tightened, anchoring you.

Heat bloomed in your chest, then spilled lower, curling into your stomach like liquid fire. And when she finally did break away, her lips barely ghosted against yours, like she was testing something.

 “Still cold?” she exhaled, amusement in her eyes.

You smirked, cocking your head. “Hmm… I might be.”

Her mouth descended to your neck without warning, and your gasp was breathy, involuntary. Your pulse roared in your ears as her lips and tongue traced a path that left heat pooling in your core.

“Nope,” you breathed, voice shaky. “Pretty warm now.”

Melissa drew back slowly, leaving a damp, tingling trail behind. “Thought so.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, nudging her shoulder.

She laughed, pulling you closer like she wasn’t done with you just yet. And honestly? You were more than okay with that.

At some point, exhaustion won over adrenaline. Wrapped in her warmth, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, you drifted off.

Which made being yanked out of sleep by the sound of something enormous rummaging through camp all the more jarring.

There was a muffled curse—Melissa’s, judging by the way she immediately reached for the lantern.

“What the hell is that?” she whispered.

Before you could answer, a loud crash echoed through camp, followed by the muffled, frantic whispering of the kids. You couldn’t make out much through the fabric of the tent, but you caught the rising panic in their voices.

“AHHHH,” someone screamed from the tent next door. “Is that THE GHOST?!”

Thereafter, you heard Jacob’s voice—determined, and completely unhelpful. “BE GONE, DEMON. RETURN TO THE NIGHT.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh my god.”

Melissa snorted, burying her face in your shoulder. Then she exhaled, just a little calmer now.

“Yeah, I’m sure the bear’s terrified,” she muttered.

She wasn’t wrong.

By daylight, the aftermath was unavoidable.

Chocolate pudding, everywhere. Smudged across the tents and streaked down the coolers. Kind of crusty—but, evidently, still pudding.

You took one look at the disaster and deadpanned, “Well. At least the bear’s got taste.”

“That’s what we call a teachable moment,” Melissa said, arms crossed.

You bit back a smile. “And what exactly is the lesson here?”

Melissa shot you a look. “Listen to me next time.”

And as the day went on, you realized that whatever lesson you’d learned from this trip, the most important one was that Melissa was right.

Every time.

Even when she kissed you.

Especially then.

[meganegatari]

before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS

ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! + 2.2k wc

apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.

covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.

you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.

watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.

the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”

you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.

“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”

she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.

she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?

you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.

she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.

“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.

“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.

you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.

your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.

you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable. 

your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.

she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord. 

“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her. 

you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.” 

she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.

flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away. 

you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip. 

“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman. 

you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.” 

you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”

some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?” 

and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense. 

you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-” 

your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.

after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.

you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.

she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.

she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.

she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both. 

your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.

she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.

fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.

trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?

you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times. 

ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place. 

“holy shit.” 

im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)

yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr

[chrrific]

LOVE ME NOT ✿ 리키 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾.

PRÉCIS nishimura riki is insufferable. it’s a universal truth by now. he’s cocky, he’s annoying and somehow always tops you in every test, exam and final. it was so unbearable, that you couldn’t help yourself but look for him in a room full of people. you didn’t want to, but guess what, it just happened. but what you didn’t know, was that he felt the exact same way this this whole time.

&&엔하이픈리키 academic rival! niki x 𝑓. reader wc 0.862k ─── kinda one sided enemies to lovers (niki’s down bad.) slight angst (if you squint) fluff l’avis mutual pining obliviousness (from both sides) kissing tension goes harddd ><

for : ✉️ im active again ehehe 😼 you’ve got your bi-weekly work updates again now ! enjoy it while it lasts ^^

enhypen shelf ✿ bonedo shelf 𔓘 daily click

if there’s one thing you knew for sure, it was that nishimura riki was the most intolerable person to ever grace planet earth.

“morning, chief,” his voice rang through your ears as he settled in his usual seat next to you. you rolled your eyes, continuing to read your notes, completely ignoring him otherwise.

his smirk grew impossibly wider, and the teasing edge in his voice intensified as he continued. “oh, going the push-away method, are we? dont worry, sweets, i’ll make sure to change that soon enough.”

sweets. that’s what he’s always called you, ever since you became rivals in middle school, and it bothered you that you let him; no snarky comment, no annoyed scoff. fine, maybe an eye-roll or two each time he said it, but you never retaliated, and he never stopped it.

you tried to ignore the slight stutter your heart started making after a point when he called you that, but it was probably just irritation — it had to be.

──── ♡

95. the score on your test was a 95.

it was good, yes, but not as good as niki. the big, red, ‘97’ circled on top of his paper made your blood boil, and it frustrated you to no end.

according to eunchae, he’d apparently been on his play station all of yesterday evening, while you were breaking your head trying to understand the topics.

you could feel how hard you were staring down at your paper, almost as if you were trying to change the score with your glare. then, a voice snapped you out of your little staring-competition.

“i did better then you agai—” he halted his words in between, watching how you were practically burning holes into your desk. he may love getting on your nerves, but even he knew when to stop.

“y/n? are you.. okay?” he asked, tone softening a hint, and his ever-present smirk faltering for a second. you tore your eyes away from your test, and up to him for a moment, but you were unable to hold eye contact without your eyes getting slightly, but visibly glassy.

his eyes widened slightly as he saw you almost crying — he never knew even you could cry over a grade; you were so smart that he never thought you’d have to. you mumbled something under your breath before you quickly got off your chair, walking out of the classroom with fast strides.

he stood, frozen, in front of your desk for a moment, before he came back to earth again. “hey— y/n, wait up!” he called out, rushing out of the class behind you.

he followed you into an empty classroom, finally catching up to you. you might have been tiny compared to him, but damn, you were fast.

niki felt his heart break slightly as he saw you lean on the wall, hands covering your face, soft sobs leaving your lips. “y/n…” he said softly, taking a step closer to you, now standing in front of you.

his fingers wrapped around your wrist, gently tugging your hand off your face, revealing your teary eyes. his heart ached at the sight, and as if on instinct, his hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears that were now wet streaks on your cheeks.

suddenly, he pulled you closer, arms tentatively wrapping around your frame. and for some reason, you felt the urge to do the same with your arms. awkwardly, you reciprocated his actions, your head next to his heart.

you felt your heart go into overdrive almost instantly, heart beating so loud that you were sure he could hear. little did you know, he was feeling the same way. his heart was thudding painfully against his ribcage, and his mind was racing, but he couldn’t convince himself to pull away.

he’s been wanting to hold you — touch you — like this this for so long, and he wasn’t going to give up the opportunity.

slowly, he pulled back a bit, and you did the same, a bit confused at first, but pausing as you realised the lack of space between your faces. one slight push and you’d be kissing him. and weirdly enough, you wanted to close the space, so badly.

then, with a sudden surge of confidence, niki did just what you were thinking of.

finally, finally he was kissing you after wanting to for so many long years. by now, watching you do anything as simple as smile at someone made him want to kiss you.

his lips moved gently against yours, his warm, big hands going to cup your face again. uncontrollably, yours went to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

after what felt like a lifetime, he pulled away with a mischievous grin on his face. “and to think you said you hated me,” he chided. “you wound me, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, nishimura.” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that was tugging at your lips.

“you’re really going to keep calling me that, especially after what we just did?”

“mhm,” you nodded, smiling. “now actually, shut up and just kiss me again.”

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