#because you didn't know X function existed

[alwayssassydreamer]

Help Me Sleep

A/N: request by Ann(on) who asked for Law x f!reader where the reader uses sleeping pills because she has problems with sleep. Hope you like it and just to let you know your request was not at all rude 😉 gonna be honest I had to do some research about it my knowledge about sleeping pills was rather, well barely existing.

And I'm sorry i drifted a little while writing 🙈

Plot: your mind is always running a mile per hour even during the night and to help yourself with it and find some sleep you had started to regularly take sleeping pills your Captain has had enough of that

Warnings: sfw, misuse of sleeping pills , not proofread

Characters: Law x GN!Reader

The Polar Tang was a sanctuary beneath the sea, but to you, it was sometimes too quiet. The hum of the engines, the sterile lighting, the absence of night or day it all made time feel like it stretched endlessly. And in that timelessness, your insomnia thrived.

It started subtly. Restless nights. Tossing. Turning. Sleep had always been a battle. Your thoughts were too loud, too tangled, and the silence of the night only made them worse. Then came the pills, standard issue, small white tablets with a mildly bitter taste and the promise of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

You never told anyone, especially not the captain. Law had enough on his plate without worrying about your inability to sleep.

That night, like so many before, you sat on your bunk with the pill bottle in hand. You waited for everyone to settle. Only when the ship had gone quiet did you pop one into your mouth and wash it down with water.

Unbeknownst to you, Law was walking past your room.

He didn't mean to spy. He had come down to check reports, but paused when he saw the light from your room spilling into the corridor. Something had been off about you lately, your steps slower, your gaze a little dimmer. He lingered in the hallway longer than he should have.

He didn’t say anything then. Just quietly walked away, the image of you alone with something he couldn't quite see in your hand stuck in his mind though.

A week passed since that night and you were running low on pills.

The routine was the same: lights out, silence, pill, sleep. Or something close to it. It wasn’t restful. Your dreams were a mix of memories and echoes, your body waking up just as tense as when you had laid down. You functioned, but barely. You hid it well, or so you thought.

But tonight something was different.

You sat with the pill bottle in hand, shaking it gently. Three left.

You told yourself to take just one.

But your hands were shaking, your mind racing, chest tight with something you couldn’t name. The idea of hours lying in bed again, waiting for peace that wouldn’t come, was unbearable.

You reached for a second pill.

“Don’t,” a voice said sharply.

You jumped, the bottle slipping from your hand and clattering to the floor.

Law stood in the doorway, arms crossed, brows drawn. He stepped into the room before you could say anything, crouching to pick up the bottle.

“I wasn’t going to—”

“You were.”

He looked at the label, then at you. “This dosage isn’t meant to be doubled.”

“I know,” you mumbled almost ashamed.

“Then why?”

You hesitated, teeth pressing into your lower lip. “Because I’m tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

He looked at you for a long moment, then sat beside you on the bunk. “You could’ve said something.”

You laughed, but it sounded bitter even to your own ears. “What would I have said? ‘Hey, Captain, I’m falling apart. But don’t worry, I’ll be fine after I drug myself into unconsciousness.’ Not really mission-ready, is it?”

“I don’t need you mission ready, I need you whole,” he said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to hide this from me.”

You stared at the floor. “…Why do you care?”

He didn’t answer immediately. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “What do you think, idiot. Because you matter.”

Your breath caught at his word and you didn’t dare looking up at him.

He just pushed off the bunk and stood in front of you and suddenly held out a hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” you asked confused.

“To the medbay. You’re going to let me help, properly this time. No more hiding.”

You hesitated for a moment but then slid your hand into his.

The medbay was sterile as ever, it's lights cool and humming overhead. You sat on the edge of a cushioned exam table, arms folded, feeling like a child caught doing something wrong.

Law stood at the counter, skilled hands sorting through medications and files. He moved with quiet efficiency, sharp, focused, unreadable as always. But tonight, something was different.

He wasn’t just being your captain.

He was being there for you.

“I’m not replacing your pills,” he said, glancing at you. “I’m tapering them. You’ll only take them every third night for now. And I’m giving you something mild to take the edge off your anxiety, but nothing habit-forming.”

You nodded slowly. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“I didn’t have to that's true but I wanted to,” he said turning to fully face you.

You blinked surprised, thrown off by his honesty. You knew Law didn’t say things like that unless he meant them.

“I’ve seen what happens when people rely on numbing themselves,” he said, his voice low. “You stop recognizing yourself. I’d rather see you tired and healing than sedated and hollow.”

Something inside you cracked and your hands started trembling slightly.

“…You’ve been through it too, haven’t you?” you asked softly.

His jaw tensed and he avoided looking at you for a moment.

“Yes,” he finally said quietly.

That one word carried a weight you didn’t press on. He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t push  but the shared silence between you held more than any explanation.

He walked over and handed you a small packet with carefully labeled instructions and after a pause, he added, “Try sleeping in the infirmary tonight. No pills. I’ll stay, just in case.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re staying with me?”

“I said I’d help you,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “That includes keeping the nightmares away. Or at least distracting you until you’re too bored to be anxious.”

You smirked faintly. “You’re terrible at emotional support,” you mused.

“I’m a surgeon, not a therapist.”

“…But I appreciate it,” you added, looking at him, really looking at him. “Thank you, Law.”

He sat in the chair beside your cot, arms crossed, legs stretched out.

“You’re welcome.”

And for the first time in what felt like weeks, you didn't dread trying to sleep.

The infirmary was dim, lit only by a small lamp on the counter. You lay on the cot, arms folded beneath your head, while Law sat nearby in the chair he had claimed as his own for the night.

“So…” you murmured, your voice soft and sleepy. “Is this really part of your medical protocol?”

Law glanced at you over the top of the book he held in his hands, brow raised. “It is now.”

“And what exactly does keeping me company accomplish, Doctor?” you asked with a smirk.

“It distracts you from spiraling,” he said simply, closing the book and setting it aside. “Keeps your brain occupied.”

“Hmm. Then talk to me.”

He tilted his head. “About what?”

“Something normal. Something soft.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider brushing you off. But then he exhaled quietly, gaze softening.

“When I was a kid,” he began, voice quiet, “I used to count the ceiling tiles in every room I was in. It gave me something to control.”

You turned your head, watching him. “Did it help?”

“Sometimes.” He glanced up at the medbay ceiling. “Thirty-eight tiles. Forty-two if you count the hallway.”

You smiled. “You really did count them.”

“I did,” he said, a ghost of amusement in his voice.

Silence stretched comfortably between you, his presence strangely grounding. You found yourself relaxing, little by little, thoughts growing foggy.

Your last conscious words were a sleepy whisper, “Thank you for staying…”

You didn’t remember falling asleep.

But you did remember waking up, gasping, cold sweat sticking to your skin, the lingering edge of a nightmare crawling down your spine.

You sat up, heart racing, hand clenched against your chest.

Law was there instantly, leaning forward, hand reaching for your wrist to check your pulse. “It’s just a nightmare,” he said calmly. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“It felt real,” you rasped hands trembling.

“I know.”

And then, so unexpected it stunned you, he stood, pulled back the blanket beside you, and murmured, “Move over.”

“What?” You asked completely caught off guard, breath stuck in your throat.

“You need to sleep,” he said, not looking at you. “You’re not going to if you wake up alone again.”

You hesitated and then shifted to the side, wordlessly making space.

He climbed in beside you with calm, clinical precision, though his voice was softer than you had ever heard it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

And you did.

This time, you slept deeply. No nightmares. Just steady warmth and the quiet rhythm of Law’s breathing beside you.

When you woke again, it was to the muted glow of the medbay light.

You were warm, more than just from the blanket. Law's arm was around you. Not tightly, but there. Solid, real, protective in a way he probably hadn’t meant to be.

You didn’t move. Didn’t want to. His breathing was deep and even, chest rising and falling slowly beside you. For all his cold edges, he looked... peaceful like this.

You studied his face, the sharp jaw, the tired lines near his eyes, the slight part to his lips as he slept. It was intimate in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

And if you were being honest you had expected him to leave once you fell asleep.

But he hadn’t and that made your heart skip a beat.

His arm shifted slightly, adjusting as if instinctively tightening the space between you. His voice came low, husky from sleep.

“You’re staring.”

You jumped not expecting that. “You were awake?”

“Mostly.” His eyes opened, just a little. “Didn’t think I’d fall asleep. Guess you’re contagious.”

You chuckled under your breath, still nestled into the blanket. “Should I apologize?”

“No,” he said simply.

For a moment, the silence between you felt weighted. Charged even but not with awkwardness but something softer. He was still watching you, eyes half-lidded and honest in a way Law rarely let himself be.

 “Why are you really doing this?” You dared to ask.

There was a pause after this as you looked into each others eyes, he was thinking, contemplating what to say.

“Because I don’t like seeing you hurt. And I hate that I didn’t see it sooner.”

You didn’t know what to say your head still processing his words.

Before you could reply, his hand brushed your wrist brief, hesitant, and somehow more intimate than anything else so far.

“I’m not great at this,” he admitted. “Whatever this is.”

You swallowed hard. “i know,” you teased. “But you don’t have to be.”

He nodded slowly, his thumb still gently grazing your skin. “Still… I want to try.”

You didn’t know what to say. So you stayed quiet. You just moved your hand until your fingers found his and curled lightly around them.

It was small. Unspoken.

But undeniable.

And in that quiet moment, under the humming lights and sheets that smelled faintly of antiseptic, something between you finally began to shift.

Later on the Polar Tang felt....strange.

You were walking through the corridors alone. Law had murmured something about rounds and duty, and left with the same composure he always carried but his fingers had brushed yours before pulling away. It was the gentlest parting you had ever experienced from him.

Now you were sitting at the table with Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. The food on your tray sat mostly untouched. Your mind wasn’t on breakfast, it was on him.

He hadn’t said anything that morning. No teasing. No awkward apologies.

Just, "See you later."

But when you passed him in the corridor an hour later clipboard in your hand, trying to look busy his eyes caught yours.

The look wasn’t captain to crew. It was something more…..intimate, something deeper than just captain and crew member. You felt it down to your bones.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

That evening, you found yourself in the medbay again.

“I wasn’t sure if I should come,” you admitted, leaning against the doorframe.

Law glanced up from his desk, his expression unreadable until it softened ever so slightly. “I left the lamp on for a reason.”

You stepped inside, heartbeat loud in your ears. “Last night was…”

“Unusual?” he offered, one brow raised.

“Yeah. But… not bad.”

“No,” he agreed quietly. “Not bad.”

You walked closer. “So what is this?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, setting his pen down and meeting your gaze directly. “But I’m not pretending it’s nothing.”

You sat on the edge of the desk, close enough to feel the warmth of him. “Is this one of those awkward conversations that leads to something worse?”

“Worse?” he repeated, voice low.

“You know,” you teased. “Like trust. Intimacy. Mutual feelings.”

His smirk was faint, but it was there. “Terrifying.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a smile.

Another pause.

“I’m not used to needing people.” He said so softly you almost missed it.

“That’s okay. I’m not used to being needed,” you admitted touching his hand.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. And then he reached for you, not hungrily, not out of desperation, but with a quiet certainty. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. His forehead rested against yours.

“I don’t want this to be temporary,” he murmured.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you whispered back not daring to move.

It wasn’t some huge confession, nor declaration but it was enough for both of you and you both knew that this was all you needed.

That night you didn't just find sleep, you found peace and maybe something called love.

Though you and Law didn’t talk about what you were.

Not out loud.

But the changes were there.

He started checking in on you more often, under the pretense of “monitoring your progress.” Sometimes it was just a glance across the deck. Sometimes it was a brush of his hand on your back when no one else was looking.

And sometimes... it was late-night silence in the medbay, sitting next to him, your knee touching his, his fingers grazing yours like he couldn’t quite keep from reaching.

It was subtle. It was maddening.

It was everything and it was helping you with your problems - to know someone was there, someone cared, someone needed you just as much as you needed him.

One night, it hit you how far you had come.

You were in the middle of a briefing with Shachi and Bepo when your heart started racing.

But the reason for it wasn’t panic nor dread.

It was the sight, the feeling of Law leaning in close beside you to point something out on the map his shoulder brushing yours, his voice low in your ear. He didn’t move away afterward. Not right away. Just hovered close, like he meant to.

You felt eyes on you from across the room but you didn’t look nor did you care.

Later, you found him alone, reorganizing surgical tools with absurd precision.

“Do you always make a mess of people’s emotional chemistry this way?” you asked, leaning in the doorway.

He didn’t look up. “Only yours, apparently.”

Your breath caught but you stepped closer nonetheless. “You’re not even trying to pretend anymore.”

“No,” he said, finally glancing at you, gaze dark and steady. “I’m not.”

You reached up and gently pulled the gloves from his hands and he let you.

“You know,” you murmured, “you’ve adjusted my dosage, stabilized my sleep pattern, and made sure I’ve stopped self-medicating. But you never once warned me about the side effect to be…..” you said and he raised an eyebrow. “….wanting to be close to you, wanting you all of you” you continued with an almost shy smile

Law’s lips curled into something rare - an almost-smile.

“Addictive now?” he asked, voice low.

“Dangerously.”

He stepped forward. “Then maybe you should consider me your long-term treatment plan.”

You should’ve laughed. Teased him. But the sincerity in his voice stopped you cold.

 “Are you saying you’re in this? Really in this?” You asked voice unusually quiet.

He nodded once. No games. No half-measures.

“I don’t let people in easily. But you’re already there and now I can't let you leave anymore.”

Your heart raced at this and your gaze softened even more.

He touched your cheek, leaned in close and this time he kissed you. The kiss wasn’t hesitant or careful. It was slow, deep, and full of unspoken promises.

You didn’t need pills to sleep that night. You had his heartbeat beside you and the knowledge that no matter what he was there for you.

[dorothygale]

i swear every week at this job it's like "oh you didn't know this thing that would make your job easier? nobody told you? oops"

[ssa-dado]

what if fleabag reader has to get a new vibrator 'cause her old one died on her or she's just getting one for her friend as a gag gift, and she runs into hotch in the process ? also i didn't know you could get them at pharmacies, but i guess that's a more realistic place for hotch to be (old back and everything).

For a Friend

triathlon!Aaron Hotchner x fleabag!reader Genre: 21st-century-feminist-meltdown-over-an-old-man and pre-relationship mutual pining Summary: You just wanted a new vibrator. Instead, you bump into Aaron Hotchner at 2 a.m., holding six modes of clitoral suction technology and a G-spot stimulator in a paper bag. Now he’s offering you a ride, a jacket, and possibly his number. You’re doing great. Warnings: Sexual themes & imagery (non-explicit but VERY suggestive), age gap, cuss words, hint of the vile act of female masturbation *pearl clutch* with *pearl clutch pt.2* sex toys, objectification of the Hotchner body, reader calls Hotch out for not having an ass, grief (your last vibrator died) Word Count: 4.7k Dado's Corner: Thanks for the request, dearest!! Sorry it took me forever, I hope you enjoy itttt!!! Special thanks to @hotchology for the free psychological counseling

masterlist(s)

Experts say it’s healthy to walk at least seven minutes a day, so here you are - taking your medically-recommended stroll at 2:06 a.m., in the direction of a 24-hour pharmacy, because you care about your health.

Deeply.

You really care about your health especially now that your vibrator has officially died in your hand right in the middle of what was shaping up to be a perfectly respectable late-night fantasy involving you, a locked door, and the tall, emotionally unavailable federal agent with zero small talk skills you’ve been mentally undressing since the first time you saw him do a butterfly stroke at the Y.

…It’s not like you always picture Aaron Hotchner.

You’re not that far gone.

You do have range.

You’ve gotten off to strangers.

To that chief of trauma doctor from Chicago Hope.

To the hot background guy from the Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas who had two lines and really great hair.

You are complex. You contain multitudes.

It’s just that Aaron Hotchner is… convenient. Reliable.

He’s easy.

Not easy-easy.

Cognitively easy. Low effort. High reward.

You don’t have to invent a man from scratch. Don’t have to mentally composite three mediocre exes and C-list celebrity actors into a half-decent fuck-doll when he already exists fully formed and fully clothed (barely.)

You don’t even have to think.

He’s basically a mental shortcut to climax, muscle memory with forearms, a comfort fantasy - like soup for the soul, if soup were six feet tall and weekly served wet at your local pool.

…And also dripping, practically naked.

All yours, at least visually.

You’ve memorized the way his thighs flex when he pushes off the wall, that split second of coiled power, the twitch of his calves, the ripple up to his glutes as he launches forward.

Perfect form. Perfect technique. Perfect… well.

Not a lot of meat back there.

Not exactly the kind of ass you’d grab with both hands and sink your teeth into.

No jiggle. No fluff.

Just… deeply respectable glutes.

Taut. Efficient. Compact.

An ass with more function than fat.

An ass that clocks in at the crack of dawn, files a huge pile of case reports, tackles a serial killer or two, then goes home and makes dinner for his kid.

An ass that probably says “thank you” when it finishes and then folds the towel neatly afterward.

Toned, athletic. Not juicy.

You wouldn’t bite it. (Lie.) You wouldn’t slap it.  (Another lie.)

(Because you’d absolutely slap it. If he walked past you up a flight of stairs in those tight trousers he insists on wearing - pleated, no less - you’d black out and wake up with a stinging palm, your handprint on him and a federal restraining order in the mail.)

You wouldn’t grope it. You’d shake its hand. A gentleman’s ass. Very in-character kind of ass.

…You’d still let it rail you against a doorframe, obviously.

You’re not an idiot. You have eyes.

And that’s how you know the way his back arches (yes, arches) when he does a lazy freestyle turn. That smooth, arrogant curve of his spine as he rotates, like the water exists solely to show him off.

You’d say he looks graceful, but that feels too innocent.

He’s obscene.

You know everything about his body. Everything except for one crucial part.

The only piece he hasn’t offered up for public consumption.

The mystery.

And yet… is it really?

Because thanks to the tight speedos he wears you’ve done more visual math in that pool cafeteria than you ever did in school.

Circumference. Vein definition. Drop. Girth. Angle. Hinge theory. Left or right lean.

You’ve factored in mass, blood flow, gravitational pull, and fabric stretch.

At this point, it’s not even fantasy, it’s field research. All you have to do is mentally rotate, enlarge by 37%, adjust for arousal, and boom - there it is.

You’ve seen that dick. You know that dick.

If it ever revealed itself in real life, you’d probably just nod.

Like, yes. Correct. That’s the dick I’ve been using. Thank you for confirming.

Your brain barely breaks a sweat.

Which is more than can be said for you, as you’re currently trying to act normal in front of a just-graduated baby pharmacist who definitely still gets ID’d at bars, while heading for the forbidden shelf.

The one that doesn’t technically exist, but everyone knows does.

You make the turn casually.

Like you’re browsing.

Like you’re not here to buy a vibrator at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday only because for some reason, buying it here - in a pharmacy - makes it feel... medical.

Like a wellness thing. Like vitamins, floss, or calcium chews.

Like a very modern, battery-operated form of hormone regulation.

Not pleasure. No, no, no, God forbid.

This is for health, for stress relief. This is for preventing female rage and preserving the social fabric of your household.

Also, it’s very, very late - which is strategic.

No lines. No witnesses.

No grandmas behind you buying Werther’s Originals and silently judging your rotating G-spot stimulator with ergonomic grip.

You tell yourself that’s why you’re here at this hour.

Not because, despite all the feminist essays and body-positive podcasts, you still get flustered at the thought of being seen in public holding a brightly colored orgasm machine.

No. Absolutely not.

You’re here because you swore - never again.

Never again would you endure the trauma of your vibrator dying mid-session and having to switch to manual mode like it was the Middle Ages just to finish.

(And worst of all, it didn’t even work. You dried up. Mood ruined. You just laid there, staring at the ceiling for fifteen full minutes before sighing, getting dressed, and deciding - once again, ironically - to take matters into your own hands.)

You’re a modern woman.

Sexually free modern woman living in a free country that still accounts for death penalty for some of their states. Nothing is more free than this freedom.

You can vote.

You can buy a dual-stimulation, six-mode, energy-efficient G-spot massager - (at least according to the box, which proudly claims it uses fewer batteries than your last one. And you believe it. You trust boxes. You’re loyal like that.)

Right next to the hemorrhoid cream. In the middle of the night.

And you can replace a fallen comrade - RIP to the last one. Gone, but not forgotten - and now, here you are, holding its shiny successor the way you’ve seen people hold babies in movie posters. (Tender. Hopeful. A little overwhelmed.)

Nothing says freedom like that.

Stars. Stripes. Clitoral suction technology.

God bless America.

…Maybe not.

Because just as you take a step back, you collide – directly -with someone you didn’t even hear approach.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt, right as a much deeper, much more male voice says the exact same thing.

A voice your brain knows very well.

Because not even an hour ago it was busy fabricating that same voice whispering “You’re taking me so well,” and - though you'd never admit this part - also: “Sweetheart.”

(Ew.)

Aaron Hotchner is now standing right there in front of you - real, breathing, and terrifyingly three-dimensional in a full three-piece suit – and is trying so hard not to look at the aggressively pink vibrator box clenched in your hand.

But he saw it. Oh, he saw it.

He’s a profiler. He’s trained to notice things.

(Or at least that’s what your late-night Google search said back when you first typed: “aaron hotchner fbi real???”)

(Which quickly devolved into a behavioral analysis rabbit hole run by people with usernames like @wifeofunitchief69 and @peter-rhea. All of them openly thirsting after him.)

(Especially this Peter guy - who you’re 85% sure is real, 15% convinced was a hallucination - kept posting photos a few years ago that looked… suspiciously intimate. Like “taken through the blinds” intimate. You don’t know how he got them. You don’t want to know. He hasn’t posted since.)

(Guess it was just a phase.)

Aaron’s locking eyes with you. Terrifying. Unfairly hazel, thanks to the pharmacy’s aggressive overhead lighting.

He’s focused on your face. Just your face.

(You are maybe a little flustered by this.)

(You bet all the serial killers he interrogates fall in love with him, too. You bet they get weird about it. Understandable, this man definitely knows how to hold eye contact.)

But you don’t buy it.

There is no way he didn’t read the full headline: “CLITORAL SUCTION + G-SPOT STIMULATION - NOW QUIETER!” (Ironically printed in all caps. For maximum discretion. Obviously.)

You are so incredibly fucked.

Unfortunately, only metaphorically.

Also, the silence is not helping. Not even a little.

…This feels like a crime.

(It’s not. Not technically. You can’t terminate a pregnancy in half the country, but you can buy a dual-motor vibrator next to the Tylenol. It’s somewhere in the Declaration of Independence - just after “life, liberty,” and right before “All men are created equal,” [*except slaves and women].”)

Still.

You are now committing an obscene act of self-service capitalism directly in front of a federal agent.

And some small, awful corner of your brain - the one with leftover shame and badly wired internalized misogyny, inherited from a cocktail of bad parenting and several seasons of Law & Order – fully believes this is the part where he arrests you.

Pushes you against the KY shelf.

Pins you with his full body weight.

Snaps cold real handcuffs around your wrists and whispers, “You have the right to remain silent…”

Which you clearly don’t.

Because your mouth opens before your brain can file an objection.

“…It’s for a gift.” WHY. WHY DID YOU SAY THAT. “…For my friend,” you add… as if that helps. (It doesn’t.)

He nods. Polite. Awkward.

…Too bad his ears are starting to match the exact pink of the vibrator.

Goddammit, he’s a prude.

One of those soft-spoken, morally burdened types who probably says “intercourse” and excuses himself when a condom commercial comes on.

Oh no.

What if this is his first time seeing one up close?

What if you just popped his sex toy cherry?

What if he goes home, locks the door, and has a slow, shameful jerk thinking about you in CVS with a 6-mode clitoral suction wand?

(…You wish.)

No. Worse. Because now he’s staring at you like he wants to ask, “What kind of friend buys a vibrator at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday?”

But won’t.

And since you are a mature, well-educated, emotionally intelligent woman - and not, say, a liar desperately trying to salvage a crumbling cover story – you say:

“Her birthday’s tomorrow.”

(It’s not. It��s in three days. But the product needs testing. Obviously. You’re not going to spend that much money again unless you know it delivers. That’s not selfishness. That’s friendship. That’s quality control.)

“Well… technically today. Midnight and all,” you add, even smiling. So bright. So natural. So deeply suspicious.

“It’s alr-” he starts, finally working up the courage to glance down-

…Only to be slapped – hard - right between the shoulder blades by very enthusiastic, very just-graduated-and-finally-making-big-boy-money night-shift pharmacist who materializes out of nowhere behind him.

Ouch.

Now - to be fair - the pharmacist doesn’t see it. (You do. Unfortunately. In high-definition, too.)

Because Aaron Hotchner is currently holding a box of ThermaCare HeatWraps and naproxen sodium - both of which are for his back.

He jolts forward on impact, barely, and then freezes.

Just enough to make you worry that’s it, that’s the final blow. That he’s going to stay like that forever, just slightly curved, permanently bent.

Italic Hotchner.

“My man,” the pharmacist beams. “Everything alright?”

By the look on Aaron’s face, you can tell he has never seen this person before in his life. Never. Not once.

But Aaron nods - tight, polite, already calculating the minimum number of words required to exit the conversation without triggering a background check or losing his license to carry a firearm.

“Just wanted to say, I really admire you.” The pharmacist grins, still holding Aaron’s shoulder, “Not every guy’s open-minded enough to use toys in the bedroom with their girl.”

…Oh. Oh, fuck.

You should say something. Anything. Correct him. Laugh, even.

But you’re too distracted by the fact that Aaron isn’t saying a word either.

He’s just… frowning. Not full frown, just pulling his eyebrows closer together.

Which, in Hotchner language, could mean anything from “I’m flattered” or “You could’ve handled it differently” to “I’m about to shoot you.”

It’s impossible to tell. You’re not fluent yet. (You need more fieldwork. Preferably hands-on.)

“Damn, look at that,” the pharmacist chuckles, nodding at Aaron’s little arthritis starter pack.

Then turns. To you.

“Is this your fault?”

Ha.

Ha ha.

How adorable.

You wish. God, you wish.

You’d rail him into a herniated disc so bad he’d have to wear a brace for three months and think of you every time he reached for the cereal shelf.

But no.

“Um…” you manage, shaking your head. “We’re not-”

Fucking. Sexually intimate.

Connected in any capacity beyond weekly pool glances and intrusive masturbation thoughts.

(And it’s not like he seems like the type to just have a casual “friend.” No, he seems like the kind of man who'd call a hookup a regrettable lapse in judgment and then spend six months punishing himself for it.)

And so, in doubt? You flee.

A timeless tactic.

You did the same thing when your therapist asked, “Why do you think you’re so attracted to older men?” and you suddenly remembered - oh no! You didn’t lock the café.

“I think I’m just gonna…” you gesture - vague, noncommittal, something in the direction of the register - and after a short, awkwardly graceful round of people-pleasing Olympics with the vibrator-pink-faced pharmacist-

(something between “Sorry if I misunderstood, I’ve been here since 6 p.m. and I’m on my third energy drink,” and “It’s okay, no really, it’s my fault” [for what? unclear])-

You’re outside.

Alive.

Vibrator in a paper bag and…

…It’s pouring.

Not only do you not have a significant other to kiss in the rain like a scene from one of those movies you only watch when you’re actively trying to remember how alone you truly are, but your car is enjoying an extended, all-inclusive, paid-for-by-you vacation at the mechanic.

Great.

“Miss.”

You physically jolt. Because:

1. That voice.

And

2. Miss?! Hello???

Aaron is standing just behind you, yet again.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Oh, yes.” You are soaked. And flustered. And holding a fucking vibrator in a paper bag while the hottest man in federal law enforcement addresses you like a schoolgirl who dropped her books in a rainstorm. “Yes. Alright.”

He looks at you with that stupidly concerned face - the one where his brows pull just slightly together.

It lasts a second.

Feels like a week.

“You’ve been standing here for a few minutes…”

…Apparently, the old man’s been watching you contemplate your entire existence under the sad little pharmacy awning while he casually stocked up on meds for his fucked-up joints.

How romantic.

“Oh… I was-” Nope. Nope, you were not anything. You have no explanation.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks.

Oh. Fuck. “Don’t worry,” you blurt. “I live close by.”

Feminism is a beautiful thing.

Except right now.

Right now, feminism is cockblocking you.

Aaron hums - hums?! - already pulling his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and it’s… it’s the smallest iPhone you’ve ever seen.

Probably an iPhone 4, but in his hand - his massive hand - it looks like he’s stolen it from a dollhouse.

He swipes the screen (with his very thick thumb), squints just enough to tell you he’s absolutely in denial about needing reading glasses, then turns the phone toward you:

“99% chance of hard rain until 7 a.m.”

…Unfortunately, you’re far too distracted by his hands to verify the evidence. Especially that thumb, still hovering near the screen like it’s not the most erotic thing you’ve seen all week.

(And speaking of data - there is a study. Something about men with very large hands also having very large-)

Without hesitation, Aaron just shrugs off his suit jacket. “Put it over your head,” then he hands it to you. “Don’t want you to get wet...”

Too late.

Not only because you're touching his very warm, very expensive, very tailored, very smells-so-much-like-him jacket, but because he didn’t even flinch.

Not at the acid rain.

Not at the dry-cleaning bill.

Not at the fact that he doesn’t have an umbrella for himself.

Not even at the fact that he’s now just standing there in a white shirt.

A white shirt. In the rain.

(You pray that he’s not wearing an undershirt.)

(You pray this turns into an unofficial Aaron Hotchner Wet T-Shirt Contest…Wet shirt. Wet dress shirt.)

“…You’re the one holding the electronics,” he adds, tilting his head toward the bag.

Ah. There it is. Thank you, Aaron, for making it weird. Again.

He sort of redeems himself by opening the door of his very shiny, very hot-dad black car like it’s the 1950s. (You hate how much you love it.)

…He even closes the door for you.

There are a few immediate observations that need to be made about Aaron Hotchner’s car:

•           It smells divine. Like clean leather, big paycheck, small emotional availability and a touch of lavender, too.

•           It’s spotless. Not a crumb. Not a fingerprint. There’s not a speck of dust anywhere.

•           There are superhero comics tucked into the seat pocket. Jack’s, obviously. Unless… they’re his. Which would be - God. A brooding man with a soft spot for two-dimensional justice and emotionally stunted men in capes. Fatherhood and projection, hand in hand. Amazing.

But what really grabs your attention is the seating.

Full black leather.

Sleek. Cold enough to sting if your thighs were bare. Soft enough to leave marks if you were sitting on his lap instead.

Easy to wipe down. Easy to grip.

A car designed to be fucked in.

The hottest thing inside it, though? Probably the fact that it takes a few soft Are you alrights and Do you need anythings before Aaron finally starts the engine.

And it’s… quiet. Disturbingly quiet. No coughing. No sputtering. No “please God start” noises.

Just… starts.

“It’s such a cool car,” you blurt.

Fifty percent because you mean it.

Fifty percent because the silence is killing you and that’s literally the first thing your brain offered up as a conversation starter. You’re not even sure what you’re complimenting. Just that it has… technology.

You’re genuinely impressed. There’s literally a screen. A touchscreen. With sensors. A built-in navigator.

Meanwhile, your car still has a cassette slot, three loose aux cables, a suspicious stain that doesn’t want to come off, and a radio that only plays static unless you hit it twice.

“It’s a good car,” he replies, completely unbothered. Literally just a man stating a fact. About his vehicle. And yet, your brain shuts off.

You’re hot under the collar because Aaron Hotchner said something true… in a nice voice.

That’s it. That’s the bar.

And to make it worse, he doesn’t follow it up. No “Do you drive much?” No “What year is yours?”

Nothing. Just those three words and then silence.

He's the worst small talker you've ever met and now you have no idea how to keep this going.

You consider asking him about… tires. Or gas mileage. Or how long it took him to sell his soul to become this repressed.

Pathetic.

You’re even more pathetic when he does that thing. The hot thing. The driving thing.

Where he turns around to check behind him - one hand on the back of your seat, other on the wheel - torso twisting, shirt clinging, full neck exposure.

Basically porn.

You try so hard not to spontaneously combust.

Not just because you’re pressed into his personal space, or because his white dress shirt is completely see-through now after all that rain and you can see where his spine ends, or because he’s absolutely not wearing an undershirt and is one unexpected pothole away from full nipple contact.

No. It’s the tongue.

The tiny flick. Just a flash. Quick. Absent. Almost innocent.

His tongue darts out - just a little - as he focuses, like it helps him steer straighter. Nothing but a reflex. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

You, however, are acutely aware-

Just as aware as you are of the fact that the two of you are sitting in near silence. Almost comfortable.

If not for the small detail that you’re horny and holding a vibrator in a paper bag. The only sound is the rain-

And the soft, awkward half-comment he lets slip when you tell him your address:

“Oh. You were right. It is really… close.”

No shit, Sherlock.

If you had even an ounce of courage, this would be the most satisfying “told you so” of your life - because not even four minutes in, he’s already pulling into the cracked little square that overlooks your apartment complex.

“Where’s the entrance?” he asks, squinting at the very charming, definitely-not-a-fire-hazard 1970s architecture. “It’s barely lit here.”

He’s right, though.

There’s a little pedestrian alley that leads to your stairwell, and it’s lit by what is essentially half a lightbulb and probably one moth if you’re lucky.

“I can’t leave you here,” he says, already switching off the engine.

“It’s fine, don’t worry, I’ve done it alone a thousand times.”

You get The Look™.

The full Dad Look™.

Eyebrows lowered. Mouth set. Silent moral judgment loading. Which, naturally, makes you blurt out something helpful:

“I swear. Even at 3 a.m. When I was blackout drunk.”

He looks horrified.

Which is… great. Exactly the vibe you were going for on this totally unromantic, emotionally neutral, post-pharmacy ride home.

“Well, you’re not walking alone all the way there today,” then he proceeds to open the driver’s door before you can even object.

“Wait- really, you don’t have to-”

“Stay here,” he cuts in, already halfway out before you can finish.

Then suddenly, he’s at your door. Umbrella overhead.

Like some man from a black-and-white movie who has no idea you’re holding a vibrator in your bag and have a sink full of crusted risotto waiting at home.

Chivalry.

That’s what it should be called. But that word feels too… medieval. Too knight-in-shining-armor. Too “written by robed men who thought ankles were sinful and menstruation was the devil’s piss.”

No.

From him, this isn’t chivalry. It’s something else.

Not performance. Not politeness.

Just… kindness.

Offensively tender, nonverbal, soak-himself-in-the-rain kind of kindness.

And so the two of you walk under the same umbrella together, arms brushing every other step.

You try to create distance. He scoots closer.

Adjusts the umbrella to keep you dry.

Prioritizes your dry head over his own sopping suit.

Kind of romantic.

You could kiss him here.

Right now.

Under this umbrella. In the rain. In front of your depressing 70s concrete box of an apartment.

You could just… do it.

Lean in. Shut him up. See what that mouth actually feels like.

If it weren’t for the very inconvenient fact that you are juuuuuust a bit terrified of rejection.

Terrified in the “ha-ha I’ll never date again if someone even slightly hesitates when I flirt” way.

In the “I’ll replay the rejection in the shower for the next ten years, write five alternate endings, and mentally workshop comebacks well into menopause” kind of way.

In the “what if he says no and then I have to move to Vermont” way.

Also, you are currently holding a vibrator in a paper bag. So. There’s that.

Still, Temptation is real.

Even because Aaron is still mid-monologue about street lighting standards. Turning his head every few steps. Gesturing with one hand like a man who has read far too many municipal codes for someone this hot.

The idea of shutting him up for good with a kiss is honestly starting to sound like a public service.

“It’s barely visible here,” he mutters, scanning the alley. “No signage. No reflective paint. Anyone could-”

“Trip?” you offer.

“Worse.” He deadpans, then turns toward you, “Are you humoring me?”

“A little,” you shrug (he’s pathetic.)

He stops. Looks at you. “I’m being serious.”

…Ah, the dad voice. Firm. Slightly patronizing. Delicious.

“I know,” you smile. “That’s what makes it so fun.”

By the time he’s done glaring, you’re already at your building entrance, heart stupidly tight.

Saved. Almost.

“Well… this is me.” You pull out your keys to prove to him you’ve got your shit together. “Um… thanks for the ride. And the walk, of course.” (What is this, Pride & Prejudice?) “I think I’m good from here.”

You say it lightly, casual, because if you don’t end it now, you’re 100% sure he’ll keep going.

He’ll follow you to your door.

To your kitchen. To your hallway. Maybe even your bedroom.

Not for sex. God, no.

Just to make sure you’re safely tucked in.

That your bedroom window locks properly.

That the shadow outside was just a tree and not a threat (more likely, the stray cat you and two old ladies keep over-feeding.)

He’d stand there - in the doorway, quiet, stiff, arms crossed - and wait until you hit REM sleep before silently excusing himself.

The worst part? He’d make it feel horribly sweet.

And the much, much worse part? To do that, he’d have to walk through the disaster zone you call home.

The crusty risotto bowls still soaking in the sink. Three wine glasses, none of which match. A fork in a mug.

He’d pass your roommate mid-makeout with a “friend” who’s definitely not wearing pants and is probably sitting on your throw blanket.

He’d see the takeout containers on the counter.

The mystery stain on the wall you keep forgetting to Google.

The chair you keep meaning to fix but now just refer to as “decorative.”

He’d see you. As you are.

And you can’t be the reason this man actively re-dyes his greys by Wednesday. You’d love to be. You really would.

But not like this.

Also, you’re just really tired and you’ve got… things to test.

And, if you’re honest, some things are better when they stay in your head. Untouched. Untried. Safely fantasized.

So you smile.

“I’ll be fine.”

He nods. Doesn’t argue.

But doesn’t leave, either.

Instead, he pulls something from his coat pocket.

His business card.

“Text me when you’re inside,” he says, dead serious.

You blink at it.

The paper is thick. Embossed.

Feels like you’re holding a warrant.

“Oh wow,” you murmur, trying not to smile. “This is the smoothest way I’ve ever gotten someone’s number.”

He straightens slightly. “It’s my work phone.” Still serious, but fumbling.

(He’s so bad at this. It’s almost adorable.)

You nod, suppressing the second smile in a row. “Of course.”

He looks at you for a moment - too long, maybe, or maybe it’s just your perception that’s a bit fucked up - and says, “Goodnight, miss.”

You pause.

“It’s-” You tell him your name.

He nods. Revises. And repeats it. A little too careful. A little too gentle.

You might actually pass out.

Not just from the emotional whiplash, but also because your apartment has too many goddamn stairs and your legs were not built for this level of cardio or romantic tension.

You stumble inside, safe. Unmurdered. Emotionally unstable. Immediately grab your phone and text the number printed in the most intimidating Arial you’ve ever seen.

made it still alive didn’t get murdered not even a little bit

He replies almost instantly.

(Almost, because he’s an old man with disproportionately large thumbs and the texting accuracy of someone whose phone autocorrects “fine” to “filing.”)

aaron hotchner (work, no nudes): This is a work number. Please be mindful. – A.H.

…He signs his own texts. Oh fucking hell.

aaron hotchner (work, no nudes): But I’m glad to hear it. Goodnight, miss. – A.H.

You type back:

goodnight... agent??

Three dots appear. Pause. Then-

aaron hotchner (work, no nudes): 👍 – A.H.

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @littlemisskavities ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mmmunson ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24 ; @who-needs-to-sleep

[russosimp]

Seduction (g!p Leah Williamson x g!p Alessia Russo x reader)

Summary: Alessia and Leah noticed that you've been staring at them, since you won't do anything about it, they take matters into their own hands. (Request) 18+

Warnings: smut, threesome, g!p Leah, g!p Alessia, praise kink (r), oral (L and A receiving), unprotected p in v, anal (r receiving), rough sex, filthy

Wordcount: 5.9k

You're standing at the bar, waiting for your drink, when they come up to you on either side.

You see Leah first because your head is tilted to that side. She has her signature, cocky grin in place as she approaches you. You're a bit transfixed on her so you get startled by the voice behind you.

"What are you doing here all alone?"

Alessia. You turn your head to look at her. She's grinning at you, too. Her smile is maybe a bit warmer than Leah's, but it carries the same self-confidence you always find so attractive in both of them.

Both of the women lean their sides on the bar, front turned into your direction completely. They both stand just a tiny bit too close for it to be only friendly. Your head is spinning in the best way. Their body heat and scents and their mere presence in your personal space is overwhelming you.

You feel yourself blushing under their gazes and know that they can see it, too. Even though it's pretty dark in the club you're all in.

Apparently, Leah's had enough of your head not functioning. She places her hand on the small of your back, which snaps you out of it. Your head turns to her instantly and you look at her with wide eyes.

"You haven't answered Alessia." She tells you with a raised eyebrow and a small, amused smile playing on her lips. Your eyes follow the arch of her eyebrow until you remember that you're now supposed to answer whatever question Alessia has asked you.

"Oh," you breathe out and turn to Alessia, "I forgot- I mean, could you repeat your question, please?"

"So polite." You hear Leah whisper, it seems to have been more to herself than for your ears though.

"I asked what you're doing here all alone? Why are you not celebrating and dancing with the others?" Alessia looks at you, her smile warm, but there's something else underneath it as well. You can't place it yet.

"Well- I'm just not the best dancer and didn't want to make a fool out of myself."

"Too bad. We would've liked to see you dance." Leah states and your head snaps in her direction again. That sounded borderline flirtatious, in front of her girlfriend?

But Alessia only hums in agreement, so apparently, it doesn't seem to bother her. With their close proximity you can't really analyze their behaviour, too occupied with breathing and just existing in-between them.

Leah holds your gaze, cocked eyebrow still in place. That's when Alessia pushes herself into your space even more, mouth directly next to your ear. "We've seen how you look at us."

Your eyes snap away from Leah's and you look downwards in shame. Yes, you had been staring at both of them for weeks now. How could you not? They're both so very hot, especially together, and they know it which makes them even more attractive in your mind.

"Don't hide those pretty eyes." It's Leah who chimes in again. Her hand comes to your chin and lightly guides you to look up and at her again.

"I'm sorry." You plainly state. "I didn't want to make you guys uncomfortable or anything."

Alessia chuckles and you can see Leah's amusement in her eyes as well. "Oh honey, no, you've interpreted this wrong. We're flattered."

"Why don't you sit down with us for a bit?" Alessia's hand comes to the small of your back now as if she's making herself ready to guide you through the crowd to wherever they want you.

Leah nods and indicates with her head to follow her.

The three of you make your way to the other side of the dancefloor where some booths are. Leah slides in on one side and Alessia's hand on your back guides you to sit down beside her. Surprising you, Alessia doesn't go and sit across from you but rather slides into the booth next to you as well.

Now you're actually sandwiched between your two teammates. If you thought they were invading your personal space before, you don't know what to call this. Their thighs are pressed into yours from both sides. Leah's upper body is angled a bit into your direction but Alessia has put her arm around your shoulders when she slid in next to you.

Leah places a hand on your thigh and you eye it warily, still unsure what to make of this situation.

"Like I said, we've seen you looking at us." Alessia opens the conversation.

"Staring, really." Leah butts in. She leans forward, her face inches from yours. Instead of coming up with something to say to defend yourself, you feel your breath hitch.

"We liked it."

You hadn't expected that. It makes sense, she just called it flattering and neither of them seemed particularly angry at any point, but you wouldn't have dared to dream.

"You- you did?" You whisper.

Leah's hand starts to slowly stroke your thigh now, while Alessia's hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck. She lightly scratches you and twirls her fingers in the baby hairs there.

"Of course we did, babe." Alessia says and you feel a shiver at the pet name. "Having someone so pretty and cute find us attractive is very flattering."

Attractive is one way to say that you think both of them are extremely hot, but you keep that to yourself.

Leah chimes in again, her hand still running over your thigh. "You do find us attractive, right?"

You nod vehemently. "Yeah-"

Her hand wanders more to the inside of your thigh now and you automatically spread your legs a bit, trying to give her more access. Your thighs now press into theirs even more.

"Well, would you look at that." Your breath hitches when her hand comes to a stop on the inside of your thigh, very high up. If she'd move just a bit higher, her pinky would brush your clothed pussy.

The thought alone sends a wave of arousal through you. You knew you were getting wet from the constant touches both of them are leaving all over your body, but this makes you sure that you're dripping through your panties.

"What Leah is getting at is that we'd like for you to come home with us." You whimper, the insinuation very clear.

"Yeah, you like that thought, don't you?" Leah teases you. You can only nod, not able to form any words right now. But that isn't enough.

"We need an actual answer please. We need to hear you say if you want to come home with us. We don't want to make you do something you don't want." Alessia explains, not unkind, but firmly.

You gulp and then take a sip of your completely abandoned beer in front of you. "I'd like to go home with the two of you. Please."

"Good girl." Alessia whispers. You whimper, now clenching your thighs together, trapping Leah's hand in process.

"Oh you like that? You like being our good girl and follow our commands?"

You whine and nod. You didn't know that that would turn you on so much but it did.

"Well, I ordered a taxi when we walked over here." Leah announces. "Let's get home then, yeah?"

The ride to their place goes by in a blur. They make you take the seat between them again, both with their hands on your thighs now, just softly rubbing all over them, making you squirm in your seat. They haven't touched you anywhere significant yet and still have you completely wet and turned on.

The longer the ride goes on, the more you can see the bulges forming in their pants. You want to run your hands over them but refrain, not knowing how they'd react.

You can't get out of the car fast enough when you finally pull up to their house. You really need your hands on them and their hands on you as soon as possible.

When you walk into their house, they stir you into the direction of their bedroom immediately. As soon as you enter the room, Leah is on you instantly. Her hands come to your shoulders and she backs you into Alessia's front. You stumble into Alessia who catches you with her arms and then Leah's lips are on yours, demanding and possessive. She plunges her tongue into your mouth and you just let it happen, tasting her desire. Her tongue demandingly strokes against yours as she explores your mouth.

Alessia's hands run up and down your arms but hold you in place at the same time. You're pinned between them, Leah pressing into your front and Alessia into your back. You still can't really believe that you've found yourself in the position you've dreamt about.

You can feel Alessia's tits against you and then she rocks her hips slightly into yours and you feel her bulge as well. It automatically makes you buck your ass into her in return which has her groaning into your ear. It sounds so needy and hot that it makes you whine into Leah's mouth even more than before.

Since you liked the sound Alessia made so much, you repeat your action and buck your ass against her bulge again. This time, you get rewarded with Alessia sucking the side of your neck from behind. You tilt your head a little to give her more space.

Leah pulls away, panting deeply against your lips.

You feel Alessia's hands tugging at the hem of your shirt and then Leah just tells you "Off." and you instantly know to lift your arms so that they can get your shirt off.

It's Alessia who pulls the shirt over your head. Her arms circle around you and she cups your tits from behind and softly kneads them through your bra. You whimper at the sensation.

Leah leans in again and you think that she'll claim your mouth once more, but instead she kisses Alessia over your shoulder.

You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of Alessia's hands on your tits and the kissing sounds coming from the two of them. You feel Leah's hands fumbling with the button of your jeans and help her with it. You can't really shimmy out of them though, being trapped between the two women.

Leah drops to her knees then and pulls your jeans and panties down in one motion. She helps you step out of your jeans while Alessia pulls your bra off you. Now you're naked in front of the two women, who are both very much clothed still. It makes you feel very shy all of a sudden but you don’t have much time to dwell on it.

"On your knees." You instantly drop to your knees in front of them at Leah's command. You look up at them, your hands in your lap, waiting for what's next.

They step closer to you, so close that you get a good view of the bulges in their pants right in front of your face now. You wet your lips in anticipation. You're so ready for their cocks in your mouth, the thought alone has you whimpering.

"Look at you, getting ready for us." Alessia praises, making you squeeze your thighs together.

While your attention was on Alessia, Leah had started to undress. You turn your head and are met with her cock in only her boxers. The outline is very clearly visible against the thin fabric and you can see how hard and big her cock is. Your eyes widen slightly. Alessia starts to undress as well, starting with her top and bra. Unlike Leah she doesn't keep her boxers on, pulling down her pants and boxers in one motion, much like Leah had done with yours.

She pulls them down slowly, knowing very well that your focus is on her cock completely, as is Leah's probably.

When she finally frees her cock from the confinement of her pants, it slaps up against her stomach. Now her cock is right in front of you in all its thick and viney glory. You want to reach out, but from what you've learned so far is that you should probably wait until they tell you to.

Your hands twitch a little in your lap but you keep them there. You tear your eyes off Alessia's cock and look up at her again and see that she eyes your hands with interest.

Then there appears a satisfied smirk on her face. "You learn fast, baby."

Alessia steps even closer to you and so does Leah. "Take off my boxers."

You carefully put your hands in the waistband of Leah's boxers, looking up at her. You pull the boxers down, freeing her cock as well. You're so close to Leah, that her cock almost slaps you in the face if you hadn't moved out of the way. She chuckles and steps out of the boxers, flicking them away with her foot. Leah's cock is hard and even longer than it looked with the boxers still on. It has a slight upside curve which you get excited about, you can only imagine how that'll feel inside of you.

Now both women are naked with their cocks out. You look up at them with wide eyes as they step just a tad bit closer to you, now right in front of you on either side of your face.

"Open up." Leah finally tells you, pushing her cock against your mouth.

You open your mouth obediently and stick your tongue out. She places her tip on it and you gently suck her into your mouth. Your hand comes up to her shaft, running over it. Not wanting to neglect Alessia, you blindly reach for her cock with your other hand, slowly starting to stroke her as well when you find it.

You flatten your tongue and run it over Leah's length, making her moan. Her moan spurs you on a bit, and you get more confident with your movements.

Alessia bucks her hips into your hand, so you let go of Leah's cock with a pop and take Alessia in your mouth now. You run your mouth over her cock sloppily, her pre-cum and your saliva mixing and wetting it.

"Fuck, so good, baby." You circle your tongue around her tip, really working her cock.

You continue to alternate between sucking and jerking both of them off, making them groan appreciatively. Their sounds shoot straight to your core without you being able to do anything about it. You feel yourself clenching around nothing, making you whine.

Before you can make either of them cum, Leah suddenly pushes you off her cock and pulls you up. She puts her arms around you, basically carrying you to their bed and puts you down.

She stands over you and pulls your legs up and spreads them in front of her. "You're dripping wet for us. Look at her, Less."

Alessia comes up next to Leah, eyeing up your cunt as well. The gazes of both women on your cunt make you squirm. You've probably never felt hotter but also more exposed than you do right in this moment.

You feel some of your arousal on your thighs and apparently, Leah sees it, too, as she runs her hands over the inside of your thighs.

"So, so wet and ready for my cock, aren't you baby?"

"Yes, yes! Leah, please, fuck me. I'm so ready." You feel yourself rambling a bit, but you're just so ready for any kind of stimulation. "I want to feel you both, please, use me, please."

"Well, when you beg so pretty, we can't deny you now, can we?" She chuckles and grabs her cock to align it with your cunt.

You hold your breath in anticipation when you feel her tip on your pussy. She drags the head of her cock through your folds, making you whine and buck your hips upwards. She chuckles again at your impatience but she doesn't make you wait any longer and pushes in, shoving her long cock deep inside of you.

You moan out in pleasure at the intrusion. Leah starts to push into you with a pretty slow but steady pace. The curve of her cock gives her a bit of a different angle, her cock going deeper and also hitting your g-spot more often than others have before.

"F-fuck, Leah, feels so good, so d-deeeep..."

You surrender yourself to the feeling of her fucking you, completely lost in her steady thrusts. Her rhythm slowly builds up the pressure in your core but she doesn't let you get there entirely yet.

"Faster Leah, fuck me faster, pl-please!"

Instead of speeding up like you wanted, Leah slips out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling and making you whine. You open your eyes and at first you only see Alessia, still looking down at you and just slowly stroking her cock.

You turn your head to see Leah who gets on the bed next to you, legs over the edge and leaning back on her elbows, her cock’s standing in the air, glistening with your arousal.

"Get on, but facing Less." She tells you and you of course oblige immediately.

You straddle her with your back to her. You put your hands on her thighs to stabilize yourself for the moment and then slowly sink down on her, welcoming the feeling of her filling you again. Leah sits up and puts her arms around you. Then she pulls you into her and holds you still. Now you can't really move which allows her to fuck into you again at her will. This different angle makes her hit new spots inside of you and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm again.

"Look at me, while Leah fucks you." You suddenly hear Alessia say in a demanding tone.

You whimper and open your eyes to see that she has stepped closer and is now at the foot of the bed, directly in front of you.

"Keep your eyes open, pretty girl, I wanna see you while you’re getting fucked by Leah.."

You moan at her tone and choice of words and make an effort to keep your eyes open, wanting to please her.

Alessia leans over and kisses you, open mouthed, with her tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. You just let it happen and groan into her mouth, feeling completely overwhelmed by the two women.

She pulls away and your eyes drop to her hand as she's increasing the speed on her cock. You can see her twitch and know that she's close to cumming. She points her cock towards your exposed cunt in front of her.

Then Alessia cums with a moan and empties herself onto your cunt. You feel her cum hitting your pussy and the insides of your thighs, some even landing on your stomach.

The feeling of Leah fucking you and Alessia cumming all over you is so hot that you moan along with Alessia as she cums and clench around Leah's cock. The pressure in your core tightens and you know that you're close to your own orgasm as well.

"Fuck, you like having Lessi's cum all over you, don't you baby?" Leah pants from behind you.

"Y-yeah!" Is all you get out before Leah increases her speed.

"You wanna come, too?" Alessia is slowly stroking herself with one hand still as she's watching the two of you. Her other hand now comes up to your cunt and she smears her own cum even more all over you. Then she uses her thumb to roughly rub your clit. The stimulation sends pleasure right into your core, making you moan loudly.

"Be a good girl and come for us." Alessia tells you and you want nothing more than to please the two women. You grind down against Leah's thrusts once and then fall apart between the two women completely, trembling as your powerful orgasm hits you all at once.

Your orgasm apparently makes Leah cum as well, you feel her fuck you through it and then she thrusts into you as deeply as possible, before stilling her movements burried in you as you feel her cum filling you up.

All three of you are panting heavily now and for a moment those are the only noises in the room as you all come down from your highs.

You feel Leah slowly slipping out of you and whine. She chuckles and lifts you to place you on the bed next to her. With her cock gone, some of her cum slowly starts to drip out of you and onto your thighs and the bed.

Leah lies down more in the middle of the bed, her cock still semi-errect. You wait for either of them to tell you what to do next.

"Clean her up, baby." Alessia tells you and you immediately crawl over to Leah, Alessia right behind you.

"On your knees."

You push yourself on your knees as your hand comes to Leah's shaft. You guide her semi-hard cock into your mouth, just running your tongue all over her shaft, licking off and tasting both her and your own release on her cock. You let go of her with a pop and then run your opened mouth over her cock, barely touching her, but just enough, before you start to give her tip more attention.

Behind you, the bed dips as Alessia comes up to you. You know that you're practically presenting her with your pussy with the position you're in. At the thought of presenting her with your cunt, you shuffle your legs a bit further apart in the hopes of spreading yourself open just a little bit more to show her what awaits her.

Alessia runs her hands over your ass and hips and you hear her groan at the feeling of your flesh in her hands.

Despite Leah just fucking you through an orgasm you feel empty and can't wait to finally feel Alessia's cock inside you as well, you wish she'd just fuck you already. You buck your hips back into her direction a bit.

Alessia chuckles and kneads your ass. "Are you ready for me?"

You whine around Leah's cock and spread your thighs some more. You feel Alessia's cock sitting on your pussy now, but she doesn't push in yet. Just like Leah had before, Alessia runs her cock over your slit, taking some of Leah's cum that's still dripping out of you to spread it all over your cunt and her own cock.

You hear her chuckle again, she's apparently having fun teasing you.

"So eager." You can practically hear the smirk in her voice.

To be able to talk, you pull yourself off Leah's cock. "Please, Less, fuck me, please."

"You want to be filled by my thick cock so badly, don't you, baby?" Alessia asks but doesn't wait for an answer. "Let’s see how you'll handle it."

With that, she lines herself up with your opening and shoves her entire cock deep inside your dripping wet cunt. You cry out around Leah's cock in your mouth, the feeling of being spread open by Alessia with one push is both very pleasurable and a little painful at the same time.

Her cock doesn't reach as deep as Leah's had, but her thickness stretches you deliciously, making you whimper and groan around Leah with each slow thrust.

You're glad Alessia is settling into a slower and steady pace for now, letting you get used to her. Her hands are on your hips, both her thumbs stroking you softly.

You bob your head up and down on Leah's cock and when you feel her slowly get hard again, you suck on her head, making her moan.

"Just like that baby, fuck, taking us so well." She runs her hand through your hair, almost tenderly.

When Leah is fully hard again, she pulls you off her cock. You look at her with wide eyes through your lashes, wondering if you've done something wrong. But she just pushes herself up on her knees in front of you, presenting you with her cock once more.

Leah pulls on your hair a bit and when you open your mouth to whimper, she pushes her cock back into your now waiting mouth. She pushes in deeply and roughly, hitting the back of your throat with her tip and making you choke around her cock. The tightening of your throat squeezes her cock and she moans deeply.

"Yes, baby, take me with that hot mouth of yours Feels so good!"

You feel Alessia quicken her thrusts into you now, her veiny cock runs along your walls, making you feel each thrust everywhere.

Leah tangles her hand in your hair and now has full control over your head as she practically locks the back of your head in place. Alessia's grip on your hips tightens at the same time, stopping you from moving them as well.

Now, you're locked in between the two blondes, Alessia fucking into you from behind with hard and rough thrusts and Leah fucking your mouth deeply with her long cock. Your whole body is shaking from both their thrusts without you having any form of control over any of your movements.

You revel in the feeling of being fucked so thoroughly on both ends, your body feels like it's on fire, pleasure and heat pulsing through you.

"You're taking us so well, pretty girl." Alessia praises from behind you. "So well, we could just fuck you like this forever, our perfect girl."

Her words hit you deep inside, going right to your core. You feel yourself clench around her cock. Alessia of course notices.

"You like that so much, don't you? Being all perfect for us, letting us use you like this?"

You moan at her words, sending vibrations through Leah's cock, making her moan loudly as well. Her grip in your hair tightens as she nears her orgasm. She thrusts into your mouth steadily, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly now.

Alessia's cock twitches inside of you and you know that she's close to her own orgasm as well. You clench your pussy and try to back your ass into her, trying to meet her thrusts and help make her cum.

Her thrusts turn more erratic and you eagerly await her orgasm. But you get surprised by Leah first. Her grip on the back of your head tightens even more and she keeps your head locked in place, pushing her cock as far into your mouth as possible. Her whole body seems to be pushing against you as she holds you so that she can empty herself into your mouth.

Her cum hits the back of your throat and you choke but don't and can't move off her. Instead, you swallow as much of her cum as you can, but you feel some of it spilling out of your mouth and dripping down your chin as well.

"Swallow, pretty girl, doing such a good job. Fuck, take all my cum!"

Apparently, those words are what does it for Alessia as well.

"Fuck, take both our loads, baby!" She moans and then you feel her hot seed hit your walls. You moan as you cum right with them, the coil inside of you exploding at the feeling of being filled with their cum from both ends, it feels all-consuming and overwhelming in the best way. You feel surrounded by them and that has you reeling.

When you slowly come down from your orgasm, you feel your whole body getting tired and just want to collapse onto the bed, needing to take a breath.

Leah's grip on your head is loosening and her cock slips out of your mouth. You just let yourself fall forward, face first, without her holding you up anymore, Alessia's cock slipping out of you in the process, making both of you groan.

Leah scoots down next to you, her hand now coming to your back, softly caressing you. Alessia lies down on your other side, where your face is turned to. Her face comes close to yours and you can see the sparkle in her eyes.

"Well done, baby."

You whimper appreciatively at her words which makes both of them chuckle.

Alessia joins Leah's hand on your back and they both just let them wander all over you with soft movements while you catch your breath. The room is completely silent for a while all three of you just existing together.

You free your hand from underneath yourself and put it on Alessia's stomach, drawing very slow circles there.

Alessia's hand comes to your face and she pulls you towards herself, kissing you deeply. It's a slow but passionate kiss, both of you putting everything into it. Alessia groans and you know she's enjoying the taste of Leah still clinging to your tongue.

You feel Leah's lips on your back, lazily trailing kisses from your spine all the way up to your neck. She bites down teasingly, making you moan into Alessia's mouth.

Leah is now draped halfway over you from behind, sandwiching you once again between herself and Alessia. She kisses along your jaw and then reaches over you to redirect Alessia's mouth to her own.

Their kisses turn sloppy rather quickly, all teeth and tongues. They're making out literally right in front of your face and you feel it affecting you deep inside once more. You didn't think you still had any energy left in you, but seeing and hearing them make out like that had apparently spurred you on enough.

You move a little between them, not knowing what you want to accomplish with that but feeling the need to do something. Then you let your hand wander and bump into something. You feel around a bit more and discover that Alessia is already hard once again.

That makes you squirm even more, turned on by the mere thought of either one of them inside of you again. Now you can feel Leah twitching against your back as well, deepening the feeling of want inside of you.

You move your hips a bit against Alessia's thigh, searching for friction against your aching cunt but just her leg won't suffice. You whine, growing more desperate by the second.

Leah and Alessia pull away from each other, probably disturbed by your movements. Alessia grins cheekily down at you.

"You haven't had enough of us yet baby?"

You whine and shake your head, flushing at the look on her face.

"Do you think you can take both of us at the same time, pretty girl?" You can feel Leah's breath against your ear as she talks.

Your eyes widen at the implication of Leah's words, the thought sends a shiver down your back and you whimper, feeling yourself growing wetter at the thought of both of them fucking you at the same time.

"Can't take Alessia in my ass though, too thick." You mumble.

Alessia laughs and caresses your face with her hand.

"As you wish, baby."

Leah disappears from behind you and Alessia pulls you completely on top of herself. She kisses you again, much more demanding than just minutes before, pushing her tongue in and exploring your mouth with ferocity. Her hands are all over your body and you completely give yourself to the feeling of her all over you once more.

You reach down and in-between the two of you to line up her cock with your pussy. You push back once and slowly sink down on her, making her pull away from your mouth for a long moan.

"You feel so good baby," Alessia says against your ear "I can feel all our cum inside of you, so hot."

You slowly move on top of Alessia, just wanting to feel her inside of you and getting ready for Leah.

Alessia pulls you down against her once more, and you look over your shoulder to see what Leah is doing. You can see that she got lube from somewhere that she's now generously spreading over her cock. She's pumping it with long strokes, getting herself ready.

"Relax baby." Alessia says and lets her hands roam over your back again. "It'll be much easier if you're relaxed."

You let yourself fall completely into Alessia, lying on top of her, not moving, not exerting any muscles. Her hands caress your ass and she coos in your ear. "Such a good girl for us, you've been doing so well, our good girl."

Leah works some lube into your ass with her hands. She slowly pushes her thumb inside of you, stretching your hole and preparing you for her cock. Then the tip of her cock presses against your hole, obviously much wider than her thumb had been. You spread your legs and effectively spread yourself open a bit more when you feel her slowly working her cock inside your ass.

She slowly sinks into you deeper and deeper, giving you time to adjust to the new feeling. You whimper with each centimeter she sinks deeper into you.

Feeling both cocks inside of you is an entirely new form of fullness for you. You've never felt this filled and you let the pleasure of it wash over you, everything just feels more now.

"So damn tight." Leah grits her teeth while talking. "Feels so good, baby."

"Are you alright?" Alessia asks you.

You only moan loudly at her question, nodding your head against her. "So- full." You pant heavily, starting to move against them slowly.

"Aww, are you a bit overwhelmed, pretty girl? Why don't you let us do the work, hmm?"

With that, Alessia and Leah both begin to move. They work with a counter-rhythm, one pushing in while the other pulls out. This rhythm ensures that you're never left empty, one of them always fully inside of you.

They move inside of you and you can only moan uncontrollably, completely losing track of anything but the feeling of being filled at all times and their bodies against you.

You are so overwhelmed with them all over and around you that you feel your orgasm approaching only when it's almost there. The coil in your core feels so tight all of a sudden that you know it's going to snap any second now.

"I'm gonna c-cum." You barely get the words out when the third orgasm of the night overtakes you very quickly. You shake between the two women, completely lost in the feeling of your orgasm and the pleasure all over your body. Both of your holes clench around their cocks, sending the other two women over the edge as well.

Both Leah and Alessia groan at the same time as their orgasms hit them simultaneously. You didn't think you could feel any fuller than you had just seconds before but with both of them pumping their seed inside of you, you feel even fuller than before.

You moan and shake at the feeling of both of them cumming deep inside of you at the same time, feeling entirely spent now. Leah's cum inside of your ass is an entirely new feeling to you and Alessia's cum is filling your cunt even more than it already was, effectively filling you to the brink.

Leah collapses into you and you both rest your full weights on top of Alessia who welcomes you with a huff. You feel both of their cocks soften inside of you, before you fall asleep, entirely exhausted from taking both of them into all your holes.

[parkjihoonswifey]

A/N: :(((

Title: Like brother, like sister

Pairings: Yeon Si-eun x Fem! Younger sister! Reader

Warnings: kinda sad?? crying, bullying

The silence at the dinner table was always awkward.

Not because anyone was fighting. Not because their mother said anything wrong. It was just the way things were. Their family wasn't loud, wasn't especially expressive. They just…functioned.

It was a strange, sterile kind of love. Like you could feel it under the surface, but it never came out in words.

So you didn’t say much, even when the bruises showed up. Even when your heart felt like it was splitting open every day at school.

You were Yeon Si-eun’s younger sister—by seventeen months, a mere school year apart. People always assumed he was the only target for cruelty growing up—his delicate features, quiet presence, the way he refused to fold even under pressure.

But no one knew what it was like for the girl who shared his last name. The girl who was "the freak's sister." Who didn't talk back, who kept her head down, who endured it all in silence because you couldn't stand up for yourself like Si-eun did.

Until the day you couldn’t.

It started like a normal day. You kept your eyes forward during class. Pretended you didn’t hear the whispers. Ignored the shove in the hallway that sent your books scattering. You'd become good at picking up your pieces.

But today, someone laughed when they ripped a photo from your locker. The one you kept tucked there quietly—of your family, of Si-eun from two years ago, rare smile and all. They crumpled it and tossed it at your feet.

“Not that he’d care,” they said, and the rest snickered. “Wonder if he even talks to her. Guy probably doesn’t even know she exists.”

You picked it up. Smoothed it out with trembling fingers. Said nothing, as always. But for the first time, the tears wouldn’t wait until home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You didn’t stop walking when you got off the bus. You made it up the stairs, past your mother in the kitchen who offered you a tired, distracted greeting.

Your hands trembled as you opened your bedroom door. Closed it. Didn't bother to Lock it, you figured no one would come in anyway. You sat down on your bed and stared at the picture in your hand. Creased and ruined.

And you broke.

You didn’t even hear Si-eun knock. You didn’t hear the first time he said your name, or the second, or the third.

But when the door creaked open and he stepped in—cool and unreadable as always—you didn’t hide it.

You were sobbing.

Not the kind of crying you could muffle into a pillow. The loud, hiccupping kind. The shaking kind. The "I can't pretend anymore" kind. And for a moment, neither of you spoke.

"...Did something happen?" he asked finally, voice soft in a way few people ever got to hear. You covered your face. You wanted to lie, say it was nothing. But the pain was too raw, too sharp.

“They hate me,” you choked. “They all hate me.” Si-eun stood frozen in place.

“They shove me. They laugh. They ruin my things. I—I never told you. I didn’t want to bother you. You already…you already had so much—”

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His face didn’t show much, but his eyes were wide. There was a quiet storm in them. Not rage, but something heavy. A deep-rooted hurt that matched yours, reflected like a mirror.

“You should’ve told me,” he said, moving closer until he sat on the edge of your bed. “You should’ve said something.”

“I thought…” You hiccupped. “You always handle it. I thought I should, too.”

He didn’t answer.

He exhaled, slow and long. And for the first time, you saw it—the cracks in his mask. His hands trembled slightly as he reached out to take the ruined photo from your hand.

“They didn’t know,” you whispered. “What they did to me… they didn’t even know how much that photo meant."

Si-eun looked at the photo for a moment.

Then his voice dropped. “That’s worse.”

You blinked. “What?”

“It’s worse,” he said again, quieter. “They hurt you without even knowing. And I didn’t protect you. I didn’t even notice.”

“Si-eun, it’s not your fault.”

But something about the way he hunched forward, elbows on his knees, eyes dark and unfocused… It was like he was blaming himself for everything.

“I noticed you were quiet lately,” he murmured. “You didn’t eat much. You stopped playing piano. I just thought… you were tired. Like me.”

The silence stretched again. Your cries had faded into soft sniffles. The air between you was raw.

And then, slowly, he turned toward you.

“You were strong,” he said. “But you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

You looked at him.

“Neither do you,” you whispered.

That night, you sat together on your bed. He let you lean against his shoulder, and for once, he didn’t flinch from the contact.

You told him everything.

And he listened.

Every cruel nickname, every sharp whisper. Every time you ate lunch in the library just to avoid people. Every day you cried in the bathroom stall with your hoodie covering your face.

He didn’t speak much, but his eyes never left you. Not once.

At one point, when your voice broke again, he reached out and gently took your hand.

His was colder. Yours was shaking.

But together, it felt warm.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The next day, Si-eun walked you to school.

He didn’t say it was to protect you. He just walked alongside you, the way an older brother would, calm and quiet.

But when you reached the gates, he looked over at you.

“I’ll talk to the school,” he said.

You blinked. “You don’t have to. They’ll just make it worse.”

“I’ll talk to them anyway,” he said. “And I’ll make sure it doesn’t get worse.”

Something in his tone told you he meant it.

And something in your chest eased, just a little.

Weeks passed.

The school talked to students. The behavior wasn’t magically gone, but the whispers faded. The shoves stopped.

Si-eun never said what he did.

But a few kids who used to laugh when you walked past now avoided looking at you. One even muttered an apology.

More than that, he changed in little ways, too.

He waited for you after school. He made sure you ate dinner. He knocked on your door when the lights had been off too long.

You still didn’t talk much at the dinner table, but once, your mother paused to look at you both.

“You two are… getting along well lately,” she said. Si-eun nodded. Didn’t say much, but he nudged your foot under the table. You smiled for the first time in weeks.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

One night, you found him in the living room, asleep at the table with his head on his arms, a half-finished workbook beside him.

You laid a blanket over his shoulders. Quietly. Just as you turned to leave, he stirred.

“You okay now?” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. You turned around.

“I think so,” you said. “Thanks to you.” He didn’t smile, but he looked at you for a long second.

And he said, “I’ve got you. Don't worry anymore.”

That was enough.

A/N: this was a scheduled post so I'm definitely not awake rn but still let me know what you guys think! <3

[ugavemesentience]

Vitamin D

Jang Wonyoung x F!reader. Genre; Fluff. Pairing; Sunshine Wonyoung x Grumpy Reader Warnings; Kissing (just a bit tho) Reader is the queen of passive agressive, Wonyoung being patient. Synopsis; You we're never an early bird, Always waking up at 11 am, Skipping breakfast, Sleeping at 4 am yet you we're too pretty in wonyoung's eyes, Wonyoung was the opposite, lived healthy, slept early, A complete princess, beautiful as the moon. Well she dragged you out of bed at 8 am to do some activities.

It was 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday.

You were buried under three layers of blankets, clutching your pillow like it cursed your bloodline. The world outside your window was bright, and your blackout curtains were your last line of defense against its cheerful assault. Your sleep schedule was a graveyard shift you sleep at 4 am you wake up at 11 am , and the only thing on your morning agenda was sleeping until brunch turned into dinner.

Then she arrived.

The door to your apartment creaked open, followed by a soft thud of sneakers being kicked off. You didn't need to open your eyes to know who it was. Only one person would have the audacity to invade your sleep sanctuary uninvited and unbothered.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Wonyoung's voice chimed, far too bright for your soul.

You groaned in response, tugging the blanket over your head.

"Come on, it's a beautiful day. The sun is out. The birds are singing!"

You peeked one eye open, glaring at her through a mess of tangled hair. She stood in front of your bed, radiant and glowing, in lavender leggings and a white crop top. Her ponytail bounced as she wiggled the smoothie cup in your face.

"I hate you."

"You love me," she sang, kneeling on your bed and slowly pulling the blanket down. "And you need vitamin D. When was the last time you saw the sun?"

"The sun and I have a non-aggression pact."

"Well, I'm here to break it."

Wonyoung somehow convinced you to get up, change into something vaguely resembling athletic wear, and follow her outside. The sun glared at you like an ex who saw you thriving. You squinted behind oversized sunglasses and regretted every decision that led to this moment.

"We’re going to do ten minutes of stretching," Wonyoung announced, laying out a yoga mat in the park. "It helps wake up your body and mind."

"My body wants to go back to bed. My mind agrees."

She chuckled and pulled you gently down by the wrist. "Stretch with me. I’ll reward you after."

"With what? A nap?"

"Maybe." She leaned in, eyes twinkling. "Or kisses."

You blushed but looked away. "Bribery. Shameful."

"Effective," she grinned.

“I don’t understand how you do this,” you muttered, watching her touch her toes with ridiculous ease.

“Do what?”

“Wake up. Exist. Function.”

She turned toward you with a soft, amused smile. “Because I like mornings. And I like you. So mornings with you? Best of both worlds.”

You turned your head just slightly, hiding the way your lips almost twitched into a smile.

“Gross,” you said flatly.

She bumped her shoulder into yours. “You love me.”

You sipped your smoothie. “Unfortunately.”

One morning, you woke up at 7:55 before your alarm. Voluntarily.

You blinked at the ceiling. Betrayal. Your body had been conditioned. You were domesticated.

The doorbell rang. Right on schedule.

You dragged your blanket to the front door and opened it to find Wonyoung beaming, as usual, holding a small potted plant.

“For your windowsill,” she said.

You stared. “Is it… a metaphor?”

She grinned. “Maybe.”

You stepped aside and let her in, but not before mumbling, “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“I know,” she replied sweetly, placing the plant by your bed. “Come out to the rooftop with me? It’s really sunny today.”

You groaned. “I’m going to burn to death.”

“I’ll bring SPF 50. And wear the bucket hat I got you.”

You sighed, already slipping on socks. “You’re the worst.”

“Still love me?”

“…Against my will.”

you laid beside her on a picnic blanket under the sun. You were leaning on one elbow, lazily poking her cheek.

She squinted at you. “What are you doing?”

“Checking if you’re real,” you murmured. “You’re too perfect. It’s suspicious.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled you closer by the collar of your shirt. “You’re the grumpiest, most sarcastic person I know,” she whispered. “But you’re also the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. And I like bringing you outside. Because you look good in the sun. Even if you whine about it.”

You didn’t say anything. You just looked at her.

Then you kissed her. Soft. Sleepy. Slow. Like you had all the time in the world.

And maybe you did.

When you pulled back, she was smiling.

You frowned. “What?”

“You kissed me.”

“Regret.”

She giggled and tugged you into her lap. “Too late. Now you’re mine. Forever.”

You let your head rest against her shoulder. “Fine. But no yoga.”

“No promises.”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

ೇ self control ― spencer reid .ᐟ

pairing .ᐟ spencer reid x plus size!reader

summary | listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

warnings | uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

wordcount | 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

— links .ᐟ masterlist | ao3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[whoopsyeahokay]

Best Friends Club

summary: prompt fill. Wally's been your best friend since the Grade 4 puppet show. a disaster that brought you together for life. only now, years later and months away from graduation, Wally needs to get something off his chest. he just...didn't exactly plan to do it this way... (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. friends to lovers. protective behavior. AU. silliness & fluff. Simon and Wally are bros (fight me).

bon reading, frens

___________________________☄️

Best Friends Club

Wally's chatting with Maddie and Charley before school, has his arm around your shoulders as you focus on your phone, laughing and joking and smiling wide until:

"Holy crap, Jake Tremblay just asked me to go out Friday," You announce, pretty eyes wide, blinking in shock at everyone.

Wally goes still, smile sliding off his face as his stomach drops and his heart ups and lodges itself in his throat. God, this hurts.

See, the thing is, you're Wally's best friend. And while he has his arm around you—is always reaching for you, hand on your back, arm, shoulder, whatever—it's never been anything but friendly. Best friendly. Because you and he are f r i e n d s. And it sucks. Royally.

Why? Yeah, no one needs three guesses to figure out that Wally's been in love with you since Grade 4. That massacre of a puppet show the kids put on for their parents during Spirit Week. You and Wally spent the entire performance using sock puppets to have a dialogue about who'd win in a fight: Goku or Sailor Moon. Didn't even notice the blood vessel about to pop in Mr. Toast's temple when things really started to spiral.

Wally only comes down to earth when you say his name for what must not be the first time, everyone's eyes on him. Yours, especially, beautiful and concerned as you stare at him expectantly.

"What was that?" He asks, feeling simultaneously dumb and unable to function.

You repeat, "I asked you what I should say..." and turn to face him fully. Still close enough that your body heat soaks through his hoodie. Fuck, how can he say anything negative when you're giving him that sweet, earnest expression? Seeking advice from someone you trust implicitly.

Against his better judgment—or maybe for it—Wally slaps on a smile and says, "Yeah. You should go for it."

This isn't the first time you've been asked out. Of course, those last few times you didn't look so keen on accepting the offer. When you turn back to your phone, Wally's face immediately falls. He doesn't look at Maddie or Charley, can't handle the pity he knows he'll see in their eyes.

Everyone in the circle knows about Wally's crush on you (fuck, it's so much more than that), but apart from insisting he talk to you, no one points it out. You're the only one who hasn't caught on, Nicole having informed Wally that you giggled over popcorn, what are you talking about? Wally's always like that, when everyone was at the APEX for a midnight screening of some scary movie Wally couldn't have cared less about.

And, sure, Wally is 'always like that': Goofy, charming, flirtatious; standing in line at concessions for you and holding your bag when you go to the bathroom... What you don't seem to grasp is that Wally isn't like that with anyone else. And now you're saying 'yes' to Jake Tremblay and Wally has to muster the strength not to punch a wall.

‗•‗

Simon closes his locker only to jolt backwards. Wally appeared out of the fucking ether, what the hell? He has his forehead pressed against the locker beside Simon's, shoulders slumped, looking all-in-all miserable to exist.

"Yoouu okay?" Simon ventures, raising a brow.

Slowly, Wally turns his head and nothing else, eyes puppy-dog sad and lower lip pursed in a pout, "No." And then, after turning to face the locker again, "She said yes to Jake Tremblay."

"Dude, I've told you a thousand times, talk. to. her." Simon says like a mother insisting Wally clean his room.

Pointed, "Oh, you mean like you talked to Maddie?"

Simon takes a moment to reevaluate his life before, in a placid, neutral tone, declares, "I regret this friendship."

"No you don't." Wally says, but he's still glooming into the locker. "What do I do?"

"Aside from talk to her?" Simon shrugs helplessly. How's he supposed to know? He and Wally have been paddling the same sinking boat for approximately the same number of years. "Do you...wanna threaten Jake?" Simon asks in a pitch similar to that used when asking children if they want to go for ice cream after a tantrum.

Wally seems to seriously consider it but glumly decides, "No. I want her to be happy." A heavy sigh. "Even if it's not with me."

"This isn't going to make you some kind of martyr, you know."

"I know."

Simon doesn't think Wally does know, but fine, he'll play along. "Maybe it'll go so bad that she swears off dating forever."

"A guy can dream," Wally mumbles as he straightens, and, Jesus, he looks like every kitten in the world just got launched at the sun and he was forced to watch.

Simon can see beneath Wally's utter despair to the gears turning in his brain. Can sense what ill-advised plan Wally is cooking up (because this isn't the first time he's done something stupid to ensure you're safe). In an effort to, a) avoid criminal charges and, b) make Wally feel better:

"What if I happen to be in the same place at the same time? I could keep an eye on things for you." Simon suggests and he already wishes he didn't say anything.

Wally brightens, "You'd do that for me?"

"Apparently..." Simon says, questioning himself. "Look, better me than you, right? Otherwise, it'll be exactly what it is and she'll never talk to you again."

"Why? What would it be if I do it?"

"Stalking, Wally," Simon states as he heads into History, Wally at his heels.

"Hey!" Wally protests, "It's not like that!"

Taking his seat, Simon just gives Wally a pointed stare, "Buddy, I know you read those BookTok romances, but following your BFF on her date with another dude isn't a romantic gesture. It's creepy a-f."

"But...you'll do it for me?" Wally wants to confirm, his eyes all wide and pleading.

Simon sighs, thinking this is a terrible idea, but seeing Wally so sad breaks Simon's heart and he can't bring himself to take back the offer. "...Apparently."

‗•‗

Friday comes. It's all you've been talking about since Monday and Wally has had it up to here with Jake This and Jake That, and if he hears one. more. thing. about Jake, Wally's going to burst into a million pieces of ragehate and take the whole school with him.

But he smiles and nods and teases you like he would in any other situation, bumping your ass with his hip when he finds you bent over at your locker at lunch. You don't even need to look to know it's him, simply continue to shove your backpack in your locker and grab your jean jacket.

"Diner?" You give him a sunshine smile that Wally returns, almost forgetting about your date and Jake and how you're not actually Wally's girlfriend.

Not in this lifetime, his brain reminds him bluntly.

His blood stings.

Over lunch at the diner down the street, you outline exactly what Jake has planned. Dinner at the Italian place beside the Arcade (it's fucking Olive Garden, Jake, do better) and then—Jesus, really?!—stargazing on the roof of the old cigarette factory. An organized thing. The planets will be in some kind of super rare alignment or something, and local enthusiasts have banded together to share their telescopes.

"No offense, but since when do you care about the planets?" Wally wonders as he dips his fries into your ketchup.

You shrug, "I mean, it's something to do, right? And you're always telling me to 'branch out and try new things, dorkface'," You exaggerate the last part in a parody of Wally's voice before continuing as yourself, "so, why not astronomy?"

"Because it's outside and you hate outside things before May." Wally chuckles and shakes his head, "You're gonna get cold and complain and steal Jake's hoodie like you've stolen five of mine."

Wally loathed the idea of you stealing another guy's anything, but he smiles through the jealousy. Perhaps a little too intent on smearing more fries through your ketchup as his knee bumps the underside of the table in quick, nervous intervals.

Oh, he is not doing well.

He instantly notices how you've gone still, how you're studying his expression, words, behavior like a zoologist at the gorilla enclosure because Wally can't fucking keep his cool when he's forced to think about you being cozy and cute for someone who isn't him-shaped.

Wally keeps his eyes on his plate for a few moments; long enough that you gracefully change the subject and ask Wally what his plans are for tonight. As if they don't involve hanging out with his phone while he obsessively waits for Simon's updates throughout the course of your date.

"Nothing special," He says, patting himself on the back for keeping his voice even, "just hanging out at home."

‗•‗

It's 8:43PM when Wally's phone lights up with a call. As promised, Simon kept Wally abreast of every. single. thing. you and Jake did on your date. From flirty conversation over unlimited breadsticks to shifting to one side of the booth to split dessert.

It's only been an hour and a half since you and Jake were seated. What on earth could Simon have to tell him that couldn't be texted?

"Don't freak out—" Wally promptly freaks out "—but something happened."

Wally shoots up in bed, where he's been whiling away since he got home from school, and is immediately on alert. Heart pounding, blood pumping, ready for war.

"What's going on? Is she okay?"

"Oh. She's fine." Simon reports. He sounds like he's hiding, voice a harsh whisper just loud enough for Wally to hear. "Jake might be in a permanent body cast for the rest of his life, but she's totally fine."

Wally breathes a sigh of relief, although he's still confused, "What happened?"

Simon clears his throat, "She's probably going to call you in, like, a minute, so you have to act...just...be cool, okay?" And then, finally, he reveals, "Jake tried to stick his hand under her skirt. And I mean, he went for it. Full grope from behind."

At that moment, Wally sees fucking r e d. He's off the phone and in his car faster than a bullet, tearing out of his parents' driveway with a screech. Burns rubber around every corner; breaks several traffic laws; and pulls up just as you're about to get into an Uber. There's no sign of Jake. Unfortunate, since Wally has a surplus of adrenaline thrumming through his veins, and the only cure is beating the guy's face to a fucking pulp.

You look confused for all of a second before your face crumples. Wally gets out of the driver's seat and hurries toward you. Gathers you in his arms as soon as you're within reach, and holds you as you shake. He rubs your back, soothes you with soft words; managing to simultaneously shoo the Uber driver away with a polite nod and a gesture.

"Are you okay?" He asks after a minute. "Do I need to kill him?"

"...No," You mumble into Wally's chest. "I already did that."

Wally grins, though it's sad at its edges. You shouldn't have had to.

"That's my girl," He murmurs into your hair after he places a comforting kiss on your head. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

You go without resistance, even allowing Wally to fuss over you and buckle you in. As he settles behind the wheel, he glances at you again and realizes, "Whose jacket is that?"

You press your lips together and stare at your lap, "I got cold... Besides, after what he did, I think I earned it." You end firmly, crossing your arms.

"Did you take it before or after you kicked his ass?"

"After, duh." You say like it's so obvious, "We were inside before. But I didn't want to wait for my Uber in front of everyone who saw what happened. So...I made him give it to me."

Wally barks a laugh as he takes your hand, holding it in that platonic way, fingers not laced how he wants them to be, but he'll take what he can get. Your knuckles are raw where they made impact with whatever part of Jake you punched. Wally smooths the pad of his thumb over them. Gentle. Loving.

"Where to, sweetcheeks?" He asks, "Home or ice cream?"

"Home." You decide with finality which makes it hard to swallow around the lump of disappointment in Wally's throat.

Call him selfish, but he hoped you'd want to let him comfort you. Regardless, he does as he's told and pulls away from the curb, pulling a uey to head toward your house.

‗•‗

On Monday, Wally finds Jake in the boys' locker room after swim practice, his black eye looking like it needs a twin. Wally punches Jake hard enough that even he sees circling birdies.

He shakes out his hand as he leaves without a word, hardly feeling the pain through the smug satisfaction warming his belly.

‗•‗

It's the next weekend when you invite Wally over for a casual afternoon kick back. I need Best Friend Time, you said, all adorable and gloomy, wanting to put all thoughts of ever dating again behind you (thanks for putting that out there, Simon, you da man!). Wally's in, of course he is, on the road as soon as you hang up.

Your parents are having a late lunch with friends a town over, so it'll be just you and him for a while. Games and snacks and Domino's on the menu for dinner. When you answer the door for him, you've got some of that sunshine glow back in your eyes, your smile making Wally's heart flutter.

You lead him to the basement, everything already set up: coffee table pushed aside for the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, bags of gummy worms and twizzlers (Wally's favorite) and those Canadian chips you like in a pile beside cans of Dr. Pepper and Coke Zero.

Wally wore his cleanest sweatpants for the occasion, matching your chill vibe. And damn those low-slung yoga pants and that fucking tight-as-sin tank top, no bra because you love to drive Wally crazy.

"Ready to have your ass handed to you again?" You joke as you get comfortable on your side of the nest.

Wally claps back, "Hah! You haven't won in three months, sugarlips, what makes you think today's the day?"

You just smirk and hand Wally a controller, "I have a plan." And that's all there is to it. You don't elaborate, don't hint, don't give Wally any indication whatsoever what this plan might be.

Fishy...but effective. You're already in Wally's head. Hmm, maybe that's the plan? Wally shakes himself to attention and starts the game, grinning like a shark as he gets the lead right off the bat.

Just as he's about to cross the finish line, "So much for your pla—" the world suddenly tilts sideways. He can't finish his thought, barreled over by your weight crashing into him as you grab the controller right out of his hand.

You squeal victoriously, the sound rebooting his brain, and he realizes what just happened.

"Hey!" He tries to grab the controller, but you hold it up and away from him, big smile on your face as the screen announces Wally's demise. "Not fair!" He wraps his arms around you and flips you onto your back; presses his weight into you as he uses the advantage of his longer limbs to snatch the controller back.

Apparently not taking this lying down, you band your legs around his waist then surge up, somehow summoning the strength of five Wallys to roll him onto his back again. Stunned, he stares up at you as you wave the controller victoriously.

"You were saying?" You chuckle, smug as ever, slightly out of breath.

Oh, but Wally isn't done yet, miss ma'am. He snaps his hands up, clamping his fingers for the controller which you arch your back to hold away from him, crying out when he takes advantage of your off-balance position to knock you backward. Once more, he has you squirming beneath him.

He grabs one wrist and then the other, transferring both into the grip of one of his large hands while he plucks the controller from you with the other. That's about the moment he realizes, uh-oh, he can feel your breath on his lips. Your face is such a beautiful shade of pink, and your thighs are on either side of his hips. Wally's body is completely flush against yours. All of him. Every. Last little bit. of him.

Wally should move. Definitely. He should move right now; just get off you and pretend everything's normal and you're not gazing up at him like that and his lips aren't so fucking close to yours, and the air hasn't been sucked out of the room that no longer exists around you and him because there's only you and only him and fuck. Shit.

"Wally~?" You say, voice a whisper tinged with something that makes Wally's cock twitch. Heat, maybe. Or need. You swallow, the sound audible, and, oh fuck, Wally watches your eyes flicker to his mouth then back, like you're finally on the same page, like you want it, too.

His hand flexes around your wrists, body settling more firmly on yours, and he stares at your face as he rocks his hips, just once, experimental, just to see what you'll do. He knows you can feel him, stiff and hardening further, all his inches against the heat of your pussy through your thin as fuck yoga pants.

Your reaction almost explodes Wally's brain. That sweet little whimper, how your eyes glaze over and your lips part; how you mimic the action with one of your own, sending sparks of electricity through Wally's nervous system.

"Fuck," He chokes out, grip loosening around your wrists, but not letting go. He drops the controller. Instead uses that hand to brush his fingers across your cheek and down the slope of your jaw. His breath mingles with yours, the heat in him rises, his heart beating a frenzied tattoo in his chest. Is he really going to do this?

"Please," You say, so soft, so perfect, that, yes, Wally is absolutely going to do this.

He gently bumps the tip of his nose against yours, smiles in wonder that this is really about to happen, and then slowly, to give you a chance to turn away if you don't want this, he leans in, stopping only to tease, "One more time, princess." His voice low and husky.

He feels you tense and then release before whispering, "Please, Wally..."

That's all he needs to lean in and kiss you for the first time, his lips capturing yours with years of hunger and desire and fucking love. So much love it threatens to go nuclear if Wally doesn't share the burden right this minute.

He moans, grinds his hips against yours, his cock throbbing against you, God, he needs you so badly. Has needed you so badly since he first discovered how his dick works and probably even before then. He lets his hand roam down down down, then up under your tank top, fingers caressing the soft shape of your breast.

You keen and arch into the touch, and, holy shit, he can't do this slow. Next time—please Jesus, let there be a next time—he'll do this right. He'll do candles and rose petals and Barry Manilow, but right now, he has to know what it feels like when you come around his cock.

His kisses turn urgent, his movements more hungry, and you match his crazy like a mirror. His shirt first, thrown behind the TV, then yours, tossed somewhere near the coffee table. Wally takes a second to admire your bare chest, licks his lips, and then descends, starving for a taste. He sucks your nipple, twirls his tongue around it, moaning as if it's the best thing he's ever had in his mouth.

Which, as soon as he peels your yoga pants off and resituates himself between your spread-wide thighs, he knows isn't true. This is the best thing he's ever had on his tongue. He spears it in and out of you, moaning and panting as he kisses your pussy deeply, brings one, two fingers into the mix; pumping into you over and over until you shake and beg and arch so fucking pretty for him.

"Fuck, baby, I need to feel you come," He groans, shoving his sweatpants and boxers off and throwing them somewhere to find later.

You agree enthusiastically, reaching for him as you hook one leg over his hip, the other over his shoulder—Goddamn, were you always this bendy!?—and cry out like a heavenly chorus when he drives his cock into you. Fuck, God, his eyes roll back in his skull, it's the most incredible feeling, an indescribable euphoria flushing through him from scalp to soles.

"You feel so...big, Wally, oh my god," You gasp when he begins to move, and doesn't that just rub his ego the right way?

He genuinely can't even find the brain cells to reply, too busy losing himself to the sensation of being inside you, finally, so much more intense than any and every fantasy he's had of you and him entwined like this.

"Baby," He moans, hips pumping faster, fat tip hitting your sweet spot over and over and over until he feels you tighten around him, hears you gasp, and then moan in ecstasy.

He wishes he could last, that he could keep going until you come again, again, again, but he's waited so long for this and it's overwhelming, he can't do it. With one, two, three more quick thrusts, Wally tenses and then groans, grinding his release into you; leaning down to take your lips in a feverish kiss.

As you and he recover, he rests his forehead against yours, releases your wrists—oops—and cradles your face in one hand, his most precious girl a vision in the afterglow. You shift, your hands on his jaw, and you're looking at him like the sun, moon, and stars.

"How long?" You eventually ask.

Wally doesn't need you to clarify. He knows exactly what you mean.

"Grade 4."

He watches you absorb the information, nod, and then your eyes meet his when you make your own confession, "Grade 3. Ms. Houette's class. You made a joke about seagulls that was so lame it was funny."

Wally about short-circuits. He begs your finest pardon, but what was that? "Grade...3?"

"Grade 3."

"...are you saying that I could've been loving on you—" He emphasizes with a roll of his hips, winces from oversensitivity, "—since before I even understood what that meant?"

"I'm saying I've had a big, stupid crush on you since Grade 3." You say, innocent and solemn, "You take that however you want."

Wally chooses to forego the existential crisis and simply enjoy that he has you under him. There's a lot of time to make up for and a lot of fantasies Wally wants to bring to life, which you and he do with gusto until your parents get home and call down a hello.

Later, after redressing in a tornado and greeting your parents face-to-face; after stammered updates and weak conversation; after retreating to the basement to watch a movie and cuddle—Lord, you feel so good in Wally's arms, he never wants to let you go.

After all that, during a lull in the movie, you finally ask, "So, are you going to tell me how you knew what happened with Jake before I told you?" And you prop your chin on his chest, looking up at him with amusement.

Wally gulps, facing the screen as he desperately tries to come up with a feasible answer. Nothing comes to mind, though, so he's stuck offering:

"Uuuh...?"

You sit back, on your knees between his legs, and raise a brow, "I know Simon was there. You can tell him that Groucho glasses do not a disguise make."

Sheepish, "He's a good bro...?"

"A very good bro," You agree primly, "A bro who stalks one of his best friend's other best friend because...?"

Now Wally knows he has to tell you. He sits up himself, hands finding your waist, eyes earnest and sweet as he admits, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't know anything about Jake and you never let me vet any of the guys you go out with—"

"Yes. All three of them." You say flatly, rolling your eyes.

"One, three, five, doesn't matter, baby, I always wanted to make sure they were good enough for you..."

"So, did you make Simon follow me and Dan to the movie last year?" You wonder.

Wally glances away, guilt muddling his expression.

"...Did you follow me and Dan to the movie last year?"

"If I say no, will you believe me and let me cuddle you some more?"

Your jaw drops, eyes round, and for a second, Wally's sure he's about to get the boot. Not just from your house, but from the Best Friends Club altogether. He's already mourning the loss of your touch when you abruptly burst into laughter, crashing into him like you did before, only this time a lot gentler.

You nuzzle your face into his neck and then kiss his face all over, grinning down at him with the same beautiful smile you always give him.

"You're not mad?"

You shake your head, "I made Xavier come with me to that football game you took Melissa to last fall..."

Gobsmacked, Wally blurts, "You hate sports," since it's entirely relevant to how you stalked him as much as he stalked you on dates neither of you wanted the other to be on.

"I don't hate sports. I like sports. I hate all the pauses and the time outs and the—"

Wally cuts you off with a kiss, at first just a stamp of lips to lips but slowly melting into something softer, deeper, more heated.

Wally pulls back a fraction to say, "I love you, babygirl," looking deep into your eyes. One hand on your hip, the other in your hair, releasing a long, shaky breath as he waits for you to say something.

Finally, a smile spreads across your face and you kiss him again, short and sweet and meaningful.

"I love you, too, Wally Clark." Then, completely off-topic and far less romantic: "Do you wanna come with me when I stalk Simon's date for Maddie?"

Tires screech as Wally's brain comes to a full stop. Sorry, what was that? "Wait, Mads wants you to follow Simon?"

"Oh yeah, she's liked him for ages, but he never seems interested so...you know...she doesn't wanna risk the friendship."

"Jesus Christ." Wally looks at you, totally serious when he sighs with the exasperation of an ignored parent, "You know, I've told him, like, a thousand times to just talk to her." A helpless shrug, "He never listens."

‗•‗

Several days later, when you aren't looking, Wally steals the jacket you stole from Jake. Does terrible things to it before throwing it in Jake's face the following day.

Wally replaces the jacket with his letterman and has never been prouder of himself when he sees you slip it on without question.

☄️___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Marshmallow Miles.

a cutie-smut-lite oneshot wherein Wally wants to celebrate your birthday away from Split River. Because he can.

[stxrvel]

coincidence! (2)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!” 

“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?” 

“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!” 

“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”

“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”

It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.

When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy. 

Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand. 

Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly. 

Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier. 

“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news. 

“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?

“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted. 

“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.” 

“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.” 

Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business. 

 “Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look. 

Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!” 

“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.” 

“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.” 

 “Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”

 “Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair. 

 “y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.” 

 “Ow, my poor baby.” 

 “I told you not to say that to anyone!” 

 “I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!” 

 “This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!” 

 “Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.” 

 “You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!” 

 “It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!” 

 God. It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run. 

 “Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?” 

 “Maybe.” 

Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions. 

 “Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?” 

 The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare. 

 Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.

 You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return. 

You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart. 

“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew. 

“How did all this happen?” 

“Why do you think I have an answer for that?” 

Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity. 

“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.” 

 “It's…complicated.” 

 “I don't think so. Tell me.” 

Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much. 

 “It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.” 

“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.” 

 Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile. 

“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.

“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?” 

Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva. 

“Oh?” 

Play fucking dumb. 

“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.” 

Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed. 

One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung. 

“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”

“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.” 

Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day. 

“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.” 

Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar. 

“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”

“That has nothing to do with…” 

“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.” 

“What does that have to do…?”  

“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.” 

“…” 

At what fucking moment? 

“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?” 

“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.” 

Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends. 

Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town. 

They seemed to have disappeared from the planet. 

Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you. 

That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present. 

“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.” 

You were probably as white as a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.” 

God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous. 

“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?” 

“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.” 

“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!” 

You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you. 

“Don't tell my mom I said that.” 

You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left. 

The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait. 

Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste. 

Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably. 

-

a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592

[ghostlynightpanda]

Heyy, I was wondering if I could request Chishiya with a reader who has a resting-b!tch face but, once you talk to them they are actually a sweetheart?

Unseen Depths

English is not my first language, so if you find mistakes, feel free to contact me!

Synopsis: Chishiya begins to notice the true nature of the aloof and seemingly cold player, whose intimidating appearance hides a kind and caring heart, leading to a quiet connection as he sees through her facade.

warnings/content: Chishiya x fem!reader, 3.157 words

Chishiya didn't watch people out of boredom.

He watched them because it kept him alive.

In this twisted world where games decided your death and alliances shifted like sand, people were no longer people. They were functions. Tools to use, threats to neutralize, or temporary shields to hide behind until the next explosion. Names didn't matter. Faces barely did. What mattered were the cracks — the tiny, often unnoticed fractures in a person's mask that revealed what they feared, what they wanted, what they'd do under pressure.

He paid attention. Closely. Obsessively, some might say. Because patterns always revealed themselves if you watched long enough. Nervous ticks. Glances that lingered too long. Who hesitated. Who lied with a smile. Who could be bought.

He catalogued every detail. Stored it for later. When the time came — and it always did — he'd know exactly how to twist it, bend it, exploit it.

That's why he noticed you.

You weren't like the others.

The players at the Beach kept their distance from you, a self-imposed boundary that no one dared to cross. Your face, permanently set in an expression of aloofness, commanded that much. You moved through the crowds with the kind of indifference most people couldn't fake, eyes often narrowed in judgment, your lips pressed into a thin line that bordered on disdain.

Chishiya didn't mind that. It made you easy to watch.

Most players who looked like they didn't want to be bothered got ignored, dismissed as unimportant, no one wanting to deal with the hassle of figuring them out. But you were different. There was something about you that piqued his interest. Something that didn't add up.

He first noticed it when he saw you thank one of the Beach's staff members. It was such a small thing — a soft, almost imperceptible nod and a brief, quiet "Thank you" in a voice too low for anyone to overhear — but it struck him like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

The staff, players who Hatter recruited to 'help' the Beach, were there for one reason only: to serve. Drinks, towels, food. Players treated them as if they were part of the scenery, never acknowledging their existence except when it suited them. But you? You didn't look down on them. You didn't ignore them. You were the only one who had the decency to acknowledge their service, even if it was a silent thank you, no more than a whisper.

The first time he saw it, he thought he might've imagined it. It was too small, too insignificant. But then he saw it again. And again. Every time you interacted with the staff, your words were brief, but genuine.

Why did it catch his attention? He couldn't explain it. But it did.

And soon, he found himself watching you more than he intended. Not out of any kind of personal fascination, of course — he had plenty of other things to focus on — but because there was something about you that didn't fit. A person who looked like they didn't care, who radiated an air of superiority, but who still took the time to be polite in the most unexpected ways.

It was a contradiction, and Chishiya was drawn to contradictions. He couldn't help it. They were unpredictable, and unpredictability was always dangerous. He could work with that.

It wasn't long before you ended up in one of the games, and to his surprise, you were paired with him.

Chishiya had seen the teams forming — the young girl who looked like she was ready to break under the pressure, and you, who stood at the edge of the crowd like a statue, unmovable. He wasn't sure how you'd perform. There was something about the way you held yourself that made him question whether you would be a liability or an asset. He'd seen players like you before — ones who kept their distance, hiding behind their masks, pretending to be something they weren't in the hopes of surviving.

But then he saw the way you treated the girl.

The game was called The Labyrinth of Shadows. Players were required to navigate a series of increasingly complex tunnels, their paths lined with traps and psychological obstacles designed to prey on their fears and weaknesses. The objective was simple — reach the center and survive. But in reality, it was a test of endurance and wit, with each mistake threatening to cost you everything.

Chishiya had seen enough of these kinds of games to know that most players would either throw others under the bus to get ahead or stay completely detached, relying solely on their own survival instinct. The alliances made during these games were fleeting and strategic. No one really cared about anyone else's well-being unless it benefited them. That's how it always worked.

He had expected you to be like everyone else. To shrug off the younger girl — a nervous, wide-eyed thing who clearly didn't know how to handle herself in the game. You didn't seem the type to invest in anyone else's survival, let alone a stranger's. You wore that cold, disdainful mask as usual, and Chishiya couldn't see anything but the unapproachable exterior of someone who had learned to keep others at arm's length.

But that's not what happened.

Instead, when the girl stumbled, her foot catching on a thin wire that triggered a false alarm, you didn't walk past her. You didn't ignore the panic creeping into the girl's face as her breathing quickened. No, you paused, your eyes flicking toward her as she froze in place, her body trembling.

"Focus," you said, your voice surprisingly calm, though still carrying that hint of irritation that seemed to coat everything you said. Your tone was firm, but it wasn't harsh. "Stay calm. Step back slowly. Don't rush."

The girl looked at you, wide-eyed and fearful, but your gaze was steady. You didn't try to coddle her, nor did you brush her off. You simply made sure she didn't lose her cool. You were, for all intents and purposes, the anchor she needed.

As the girl stepped back carefully, avoiding the wire, you turned to Chishiya, catching his eyes for the briefest of moments, an almost imperceptible flicker of awareness in your gaze.

He didn't say anything, but he couldn't help the impression that formed in his mind. You were different here. In this game, you weren't just looking out for yourself. You weren't cold and distant. You were… careful. Not just with the game, but with the girl, too.

Later, when the game led them to a set of dark, winding tunnels where the walls seemed to close in on them, it became clear just how much effort you were putting into making sure the girl kept up. You didn't show any sympathy, but you guided her through the darkness, your voice low and unwavering, offering instructions whenever she faltered.

"You're stronger than you think," you said once, as the girl hesitated before climbing over an obstacle. "You've got this."

The girl, who had been close to tears just moments before, found a quiet strength in your words. She nodded, a shaky breath escaping her, and made the next climb without hesitation.

Chishiya watched all of this with quiet surprise, his usual detachment slipping as he took in the way you operated. You never once smiled, but your actions were a world apart from the harsh, self-centered survivalist he had expected you to be. It was strange, seeing someone like you, someone who could have easily pushed the girl aside in favor of their own advantage, instead making sure she wasn't left behind.

And it wasn't just the physical obstacles you helped her with. As they reached a series of locked doors, each requiring a puzzle to be solved, you guided her through them with a level of patience that was disarming. When the girl panicked at one of the puzzles, almost ready to give up, you didn't tell her to figure it out on her own. You didn't even try to do it for her. You simply stood beside her, letting her breathe.

"You're fine," you said, as the girl's hands trembled over the puzzle. "You just need to focus. You can solve this."

And with that, the girl, somehow, did. She solved the puzzle, just as you knew she could.

Chishiya's mind was still reeling from it all as the game wound down. The girl made it through. She was shaking but alive. You didn't congratulate her. There was no praise, no sign of emotion. You simply made sure she was steady on her feet, and then, without another word, turned and began to walk off.

Chishiya's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't the cold, distant player he had seen before. This wasn't the detached, self-interested individual who ignored others in favor of her own survival. This was someone who quietly helped, in ways that were easy to overlook but impossible to deny.

You weren't a predator.

You were a protector.

He wasn't used to that. In a place like this, where every player was out for themselves, where the truth was hidden behind masks and façades, it was strange to see someone like you act with quiet integrity.

And it stuck with him long after the game ended.

When the chaos of the game faded and the players made their way back to the Beach, Chishiya found himself thinking about you, about what he had seen — the cracks in the mask you wore so well. He wasn't used to people who played the game like you did. It was different. And he wasn't sure how to process that yet, but he knew one thing: he couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to understand more.

He was intrigued. And that was dangerous.

Later that night, Chishiya found himself walking the familiar path around the pool, the cool night air cutting through the humidity of the Beach. His footsteps slowed when he saw you sitting alone at the water's edge. Your figure was almost entirely still, except for the occasional shift of your posture. It seemed like you were waiting for something — or perhaps just trying to forget the chaos around you.

He approached, his interest piqued once again.

"Cold night," he remarked, his voice as nonchalant as always. He didn't look at you immediately, focusing instead on the ripples in the water. "You always sit here?"

There was a beat of silence before you responded, the quiet of the night amplifying your words. "No. Just needed to clear my head."

He nodded, not needing further explanation. But his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than usual, trying to piece together the riddle you presented. The contradictions, the small gestures of care that seemed at odds with your apparent disdain for everyone else. It made no sense. And that's what made him curious.

"You know," Chishiya said, breaking the quiet, "you're not what people think you are."

You turned your head slightly, your expression unreadable. "What do you mean?"

He watched you carefully. "I've been paying attention. You don't treat the staff like everyone else. And today… you helped that girl in the game. You don't seem like the type."

For a moment, you said nothing, as if considering how to respond. Finally, you spoke, your voice quiet but clear. "I'm not putting up a facade. People just think I am because of how I look."

Chishiya raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So that cold look? The one that makes everyone avoid you?"

You didn't answer right away. Instead, you looked down at your hands, fidgeting slightly. "It's just how I look. I don't try to look like I'm better than anyone. I just… do."

Chishiya studied you for a moment, his lips curling ever so slightly. "Funny. Because you don't act like you think you're better than anyone. You act like you just don't want to bother with them."

You gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and for the first time, you didn't look at him with that detached, cold gaze. Instead, there was a quiet understanding in your eyes, something that felt almost… vulnerable.

You sat in silence beside him, the cool air mingling with the faint sound of water lapping at the edge of the pool. The stars above seemed distant, as though they, too, understood the quiet tension between you and Chishiya — a delicate, unspoken connection. It was rare, in this place where everyone wore masks, to find someone who could understand the person behind the façade. But tonight, with the subtle shift in your gaze, the invisible wall between the two of you seemed to crack ever so slightly.

Chishiya remained still, his gaze on the water rather than on you. But there was a strange weight in the air now, a shift he couldn’t quite name. His usual detachment felt harder to maintain in your presence, something about the way you were so much more than the cold, indifferent exterior you showed the world. He’d always considered himself a master of keeping his distance, of maintaining control, but tonight, he felt... off-balance. Not by much, but just enough to make him pause.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet stretched between you like a fragile thread.

Eventually, Chishiya broke it, his voice low but direct. “You’re not like the others.”

Your eyes flickered toward him for a split second before returning to the pool, expression as unreadable as ever. “I never tried to be,” you replied flatly, not surprised by the observation. It wasn’t the first time someone had said it, though they usually didn’t do so with such curiosity. Most players kept their distance from you, more afraid of your looks than your actual intentions.

Chishiya didn’t push further at first, but his curiosity gnawed at him. “You don’t care if people get close to you, do you?” he asked. His voice was casual, but his tone hinted at a deeper question.

You didn’t flinch, your gaze staying on the rippling water. “No, I don’t care,” you said, though it wasn’t said with the typical coldness or indifference you usually wore. “People just… avoid me.” You gave a small shrug, as if it were a minor inconvenience, but Chishiya noticed the faintest flicker of something — maybe resignation or a quiet frustration — in the way your shoulders stiffened.

Chishiya’s gaze narrowed as he studied you, the gears in his mind turning. “Because of the way you look?” he asked.

“Exactly,” you replied bluntly. “I guess I just look pissed off all the time. Doesn’t matter if I’m actually in a bad mood or not. People don’t bother to get close. They see the face and move on.”

Chishiya’s lips quirked upward in a small, almost amused smile. “That’s a shame.”

“I’m not bothered by it,” you said. “It’s easier this way.”

Chishiya, however, felt differently. He’d spent enough time watching people, noticing the subtle interactions, the cracks behind the facades. And though he had observed you from a distance — the cold, intimidating exterior you wore like armor — something had shifted in him. The way you’d helped that younger girl during the game, the way you’d offered her calm, firm reassurance despite the chaos around you… it didn’t fit the narrative people had built around you.

It was then that he realized the truth.

“You’re not really like that, are you?” Chishiya’s words were softer now, as if he were finally saying aloud what had been quietly gnawing at him for a while.

You glanced at him, eyes widening slightly in confusion. “Like what?”

“Like the others think you are,” he clarified. “Like you don’t care. Like you’re always annoyed or angry.”

You sighed, the smallest hint of a frown crossing your face as you shifted your position. “It’s not that I don’t care,” you said slowly, the defensiveness in your voice slipping away just enough for Chishiya to hear something else beneath it. “I’m just… not interested in pretending to be something I’m not. If people think I’m a bitch because I don’t smile enough or look ‘approachable,’ fine. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Chishiya’s eyes softened slightly, though the smile he gave you remained as casual as ever. “You’re not a bitch,” he said, his voice strangely warm.

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed, where you looked like you were trying to figure out whether he was teasing or being sincere. You didn’t respond at first, but you couldn’t hide the small, almost imperceptible shift in your expression. It wasn’t much, but for a brief moment, your guarded demeanor slipped just enough for him to see a little more of what lay underneath.

“I’m not as cold as I look,” you muttered, your tone quieter now, almost as if you were saying it to yourself. “I just don’t bother with people. Most of them are either selfish or just... annoying.”

Chishiya raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “But you’re not really like that.”

“No,” you admitted softly, a reluctant honesty in your voice. “I’m not. I... just don’t like being judged before I even open my mouth.”

Chishiya let out a small, quiet laugh. “Sounds like we have something in common.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sound of his laugh, before letting out a huff of amusement. “Oh? You’re just as ‘approachable’ as I am, huh?”

“I think we both know that’s not true,” he said with a smile, his tone light but genuine. “But you’re right. People judge too quickly. They don’t bother looking deeper.”

You stared at him for a moment, your eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read something in his expression. But Chishiya just kept his gaze steady, offering no hint of mockery or manipulation.

“I guess that’s why you don’t mind sticking around,” you said after a beat, your voice quieter now, almost contemplative.

Chishiya didn’t answer immediately, choosing instead to give a small, nonchalant shrug. “I don’t mind being the exception.”

You looked at him, eyes flickering between his face and the water, before giving him a small, almost imperceptible nod. “You’re not like the others,” you said again, your tone less guarded than before, though it still held the faintest trace of wariness.

Chishiya smirked. “I already told you that. You’ve just been too busy judging me.”

There was a brief pause before you gave a quiet, almost amused laugh — a sound that surprised him more than he cared to admit. You had a certain warmth to you, something that wasn’t immediately obvious. Something real.

“I guess that makes us even,” you said, standing up and brushing off the slight awkwardness in the air. “I’ll see you around, Chishiya.”

Chishiya nodded, his lips curling into that familiar, laid-back smile. “Yeah. See you.”

As you walked away, he couldn’t help but notice the way your usual defensive posture seemed to look a little sweeter.

Masterlist

[porkcutletbowl44]

The Man You Need

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: 🔞NSFW. MDNI. unprotected p in v sex(wrap it in foil before you check her oil), dirty talk, creampie, PWP, Insomnia!reader, brief mention of misogyny, semi-public sex, shower sex, reader is also kinda bratty

(Ik y'all are only here for the porn that's why the plot dies quick lmao)

A big thank you to the 200 followers and counting 🫶🏻🩷

• · ────── ·🔞🖤🔞· ────── · •

"Y'look knackered, 'aven't been sleepin' enough?"

Simon's voice forces you to stop staring at the stale scones under the heat lamp, yanking you out of that day dream of falling face first into the breakfast line to get real sleep.

"Just the usual insomnia," you reminded. "What plans do you have today?" You asked, gatherthering the last of your breakfast.

His long strides effortlessly keeping up with your shorter ones. He towers over you as you both approach the table where you both sat normally.

"Just the usual, trainin' new recruits." He answers in the same manner as you, he sits down opposite you. He stretches his long legs out under the table, his calves brushing yours.

His eyes fixed on you like little bugs on your skin, taking in every detail of your face.

"'ow long has it been since y'last slept through a night?" He asks gruffly.

"Saturday." You answered.

His jaw clenches momentarily behind the thin fabric of his balaclava, and his shoulders stiffen.

"Y'mean to tell me its been three days an' you're still functioning?" He retorts, skepticism written on his face. He knows you, and he knows how bad your insomnia gets.

"Yeah. Doesn't help when we have to wake up early."

Simon lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand over his face.

"You can't survive on 2 or 3 hours o' sleep a day. Y'know you're pushin' it too far. You're going to collapse soon if y'don't get your sleep under control."

He's always stern when he speaks, but with you it's like he's scolding you like a child who doesn't know any better.

You do know better; you've busted your ass to get where you are. You've had to deal with everything in the book to fight to where you are now in the military, and he knows that, he's been there the majority of the time and yet he nags you everyday about something.

"Well I'm trying, Si. Melatonin doesn't work and it gives me bad headaches." You mumbled irritably.

"Doesn't work, eh? An' I can see those bags under your eyes. Headaches too..." He rubs his chin as he looks at you, his eyes calculating. "What 'ave you tried so far, love? I've told you to keep me updated."

"The sleepy tea worked for a little bit, and then it didn't. I tried running before bed, no screen time, benadryl..."

Simon grunts and leans back in his chair, listening to you list all the things you've already tried and don't work, his frustration only seems to grow with this situation— or you?

"Bloody hell. You've tried everythin', 'aven't you? Nothin' seems to work, it's as if your body just won't shut down."

Sometimes this leads to the same thing over and over again, the 'you have to sleep' or, 'why do you do this to yourself?'. You just smile and nod, because yes, you can 100% control this.

"Well, sometimes another thing works, but it's just too much of a hassle." You shrugged, sipping some vitamin water.

Simon's brows furrow as he hears your muttered words. He leans forward, his gaze intense.

"What 'other things?'"

You sometimes keep things from him, and he won't let you get away with it this time. Or, there's the other times you are blunt, disgustingly blunt. You live with a bunch of men, who do not have a filter, that alone has killed yours out of existence.

You blink, fidgeting in place. "Ahem. Me time?"

He's not dense, he knows exactly what you mean and he's not one to back down from anything that usually makes normal people squeamish or "grossed out".

"An" 'ow is it 'too much o' a hassle exactly?" He asks, a slight raise in an eyebrow.

"My hand cramps." You rolled your eyes, it was obvious, who doesn't have that problem sometimes?

He crosses his arms over his broad chest with a humored look, your honesty can be either amusing or completely looked over.

"Your hand cramps, you say? Thas a hell o' a reason."

He chuckles softly, his eyes raking over you, taking in the sight before him. His gaze is heated. Your face can feel it, it's warm, it's like he's putting your face close to a bonfire with that look. For months you two do this... This thing that borders flirty and suggestive but at the same time it doesn't quite feel like either.

"Yeah. Thinking about going down to the store."

His eyes snap up, crossed arms going lose from his chest. He's not stupid; he knows what "going down to the store" means.

"You're talkin' about goin' to get one o' those things." His voice is low, but not quite harsh. He's almost hesitant to say it out loud, but he says it with so much disdain.

You deadpan. "A vibrator, Simon. A vibrator."

The tops of his cheeks flush red beneath his balaclava at your blunt response. You giggle a little, not expecting such a reaction from Lieutenant Ghost. What's the big deal? Did guys not talk about fleshlights? Brand recommendations?

He clears his throat before speaking, a little husky and quiet. No way, are you embarrassing him with girl stuff?

"Y-yeah. One o' those." He stutters, his usual confidence wavering. "Yes, thank you, love. I realize that. I just..." He trailed off, blinking a few times.

"Y'can't be serious. You're goin' to use a toy instead o' asking for help?"

It's like he can't believe you just said that out loud, in a busy mess hall no less. This is what it took? Talking about sex toys to make him awkward?

"Uhm...yeah? I less you have a boyfriend in your pocket waiting for me." you retort.

And yikes, he didn't seem to like that. His eyes squint, probably crinkle in his nose. He paused, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes studying your face closely.

"You don't seriously think y'need a toy instead o' just asking me, do you?"

Why does he sound hurt??

Your stomach does a backflip off your intestines and into a hot tub of oil. He did not just say that. You must be asleep, yes, you must be dreaming.

You giggled, "Good one."

Simon gives a low grumble, his jaw flexing and grinding. This apparently wasn't a laughing matter to him. Is he serious? Your tongue works over your teeth, trying your absolute hardest to be so cool, nonchalant, you don't care you don't care—

"'M not jokin', love. You don't honestly think that a toy would be better than the real thing, do you?"

Of course it's not fucking better. But what choices did you have? Sleep with one of your teammates and then get a dishonorable discharge? Make things awkward in your team?

"Oh... Considering it's illegal to have relationships, yes. A vibrator won't leave me, cheat on me, break my heart... It's perfect." You shrugged— it was for the best anyways.

He knew the rules just as much as you did. And he followed them religiously. What the hell is going on? Why would he just suggest that out of the blue?

"Y'think you'd be better off with a piece o' silicone than takin' the chance on me?"

You pinch your thigh under the table. Nope. You're still here in mess hall, in front of your now cold breakfast, and Simon is still trying to convince you to fuck him.

"Y'wouldn't be satisfied with that thing. You'd get bored, love..." He sounds so sure, and jealous when he speaks of the horrible, terrible, vibrator.

"How would you know?" You quired quickly.

Just to double check. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.

"I know 'cause I know you. You'd get tired o' that thing eventually, you'd want somethin' real."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lidding, darkening, consuming.

"You'd want someone to touch you, love. Not some piece o' plastic an' silicone."

"Yeah, like I'd ever get that," you barked out a laugh out of sheer nerves.

He didn't like that anymore than your last dismissive reply, you may just be convinced about now. So, cue to you squeezing your thighs together in your seat. Acting completely normal. Because everything about this is so normal; your coworker just telling you to come to him for a good fuck to be able to sleep.

"What do y'mean by that? 'ow can you say that with a straight face? Y'don't think anyone would want to touch you? Let y'know 'ow loved you are?" He grumbled, his hands clenching on top of the table.

"Y'think you're so undesirable that nobody would want you? Bloody hell..." He shakes his head.

"Simon, take a look at me." You licked your lips to prevent a shout of frustration, yikes, you do need sleep.

Simon's eyes fly over your form, from head to toe. He took his time studying you, his eyes lingering over the curves of your body, the way your hair fell over your face. There isn't a damn thing wrong with the way you look.

"'M lookin' at ya, love. An' what I see is perfection. So tell me again... what's your damn point?"

Oh, good God. It's real. But this is better than you imagined; you want to make him work for it. All because it's hotter to get a man to work for something, get all riled up.

"What do you see? A cutesy little girly girl? A nice little housewife for a big strong man?" You asked sarcastically.

"I see a woman who's strong, capable, an' bloody beautiful." He glares, offended you'd even think about saying that, "You're not some dainty damsel in distress, you're a force to be reckoned with..."

"My point exactly. Men don't want a chick that's more man than them." You rolled your eyes at just mentioning the delicacy of fragile masculinity these days.

Simon grunted and rolled his eyes, his irritation building into something you might not want to poke at.

"Thas where you're wrong, love." He points his spoon at you. "Not all men are as narrow-minded as y'think. I know damn well I want a woman like you. Strong, feisty, sexy."

"My point, Simon! I don't want some fucking pussy, I want someone whose more man than me." You huff.

You're not entirely implying this trait about him... You just wanna see him work for it.

"You're not goin' to find that in a bloody toy, love. You're lookin' in the wrong place if y'think some plastic will make y'feel better. Y'want a man? You already 'ave a man."

He was right there, willing to give you what you needed. But how far will he go?

"Yeah but... I want something real, too." You tried to explain.

This flirting back and forth was something you enjoyed; but what would it mean in the long run?

"Exactly." He huffed a bit exasperated. "Y'want somethin' real. Somethin' I can give you."

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you, his eyes deep and intense.

"Y'don't need a toy, love. You 'ave me. 'M real, an' I want you. Don't settle for some piece o' plastic when y'know damn well what you really want."

Okay then, schizophrenic, game on.

"I want someone stronger than me, someone to give me a reason to act like a woman," You snorted.

You were infuriating at times.

"An' y'think I can't give ya that? Y'think I can't make y'feel like a woman? Like a fuckin' queen?" That retort comes out low, accusing. "I can definitely make y'feel like a woman. Y'don't need someone stronger than you, love. Y'just need me."

Nail on the head with that one; yet how far can you take it? You lean between your elbows, squeezing your tits together to make you look as enticing as possible.

"Do I?" You purr.

Simon freezes in time, his plastic spoon almost falling away from his thick fingers. His hand does scramble for it to his credit but he almost dumps his bowl in the process. You hear him clear his throat roughly, Adams apple bobbing at the hem of his mask before it disappears. You bite your lip with a challenging gaze, would he take it?

"Yes," He replied firmly to cover up his hesitation, "Y'need me, love. Y'just don't know it yet. I can make y'feel things no toy ever could. Think y'need a man t'make you feel like a woman? I can do that, an' I will happily."

You smirk, "You're gonna have to try harder than that,"

"Oh, I will, love. You're just askin' for a challenge, aren't you?"

"You afraid to take it?" You shot back slyly.

He was anything but afraid with that look. He was up for the challenge, and you know he's gonna prove it.

"Baby, 'm not afraid o' anythin' when it comes to you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "As long as you can take what I can give you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes searing into yours. There was danger in his gaze, it only made it all the more delicious.

"Y'think you can 'andle me, love? Y'think you're ready for what I can do t'you?"

"Only if you can prove it." You grin.

Ghost let out a low growl, his eyes darkening at your challenging tone. He thrived on it, it only fueling his drive to prove himself to you.

"Oh, I'll prove it, love. I'll prove it again an' again until y'can't even think straight."

"No, no, prove you're more man than me." You corrected easily.

"Y'want to know why 'm more o' a man than you? I can make y'feel things you 'aven't even imagined before. I'll 'ave you beggin' f'me, addicted t'me."

"I'll be waiting, then." You set the challenge in stone. This was it.

The bear has been poked enough. He was on a mission now.

"You'll be beggin' f'me before the night's over." He boasts smoothly, a promise and a warning all in one.

"If I get a good night's sleep I'll consider keeping you,"

You were maddening, and he both loved and hated the way you pushed his buttons. It was all in good heart; for the most part.

"You're already keepin' me, love. Y'just don't know it yet."

You bite your lip, taking a quick survey of the area before replying. This was getting too good to be true.

"Don't disappoint then, we have..." You glance at your watch, humming, "six hours until lights out."

"Thas more than enough time." He grunts, all smug and cocky behind his mask.

Step one, getting recruit work out of the way. It's boring as fuck, mostly watching the Lieutenant scare the absolute piss out of the fresh meat.

Simon was barking orders left and right, ruthless to the soldiers in training. Almost as ruthless as the sun beating down on them.

You abandoned your spot in the shade, clip board in hand. You balance two water bottles on the wooden board as you approach to offer a beverage.

"Thanks," he grumbles, his eyes darting around to ensure no one witnessed the small gesture just like you.

He took the offered water, downing half the bottle in one go and adjusting his mask back in place. You drag your pin down the clip board to check off what's already done.

"Forty laps?"

"Forty laps."

Simon confirmed with a gruff nod, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before turning back to the recruits. Despite the challenging heat, he refused to end the training drills early no matter how much you teased him about buying him a little extra on your toy run— Viagra.

You thought it was hilarious, him? Not so much.

"An' they better pick up the pace!" He barked, the deep baritone easily reaching the pirvates' ears.

You circle that box, "And the sixty pull ups?" You breathed a bored sigh.

Simon grunted in annoyance.

"Done."

He informed in a low grumble, his jaw working under the balaclava. It was an excessive amount, but many of the recruits wouldn't even make it halfway through. But he didn't care, he was in a mood. A horny one. When was the last time this guy got laid?

"Wasn't accepting any half-assed attempts, either."

"The rope climbing?" You tap your pen at the box.

Simon glances down at the list, eyeing the scribbles and doodles next to the ticked boxes.

"Done." He replies simply.

You could faintly hear the sound of the recruits groaning and grumbling in pain and exhaustion, you almost felt bad. It was minor flashbacks to your recruitment days, yet Simon didn't seem to have that same sympathy judging by the satisfaction in his eyes.

"Aaannnd... Combat." You hum, one last task left for training.

This was where things get interesting.

"Its last. Need to let 'em rest a bit first. Suppose they earned it."

"Generous," you comment blandly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep checkin' off the list. I wanna get these fuckin' recruits dismissed soon. 'M sick o' the heat."

The day dragged on painfully slowly. The heat was relentless until the rain would show up any minute, and he was more irritable than usual. Even the recruits seemed to notice his foul mood, giving him a wide berth whenever he was in their vicinity. You were starting to grow bored of his usual job of scaring the hell out of the recruits, (not so bored when sweat rolls down the thickness of his biceps and the bounce of his tits when he jogs up to the trainees to yell at them) and overall wondering when and how the fuck you're supposed to get laid at this point.

Finally, the training was over. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the compound. The recruits limped and hobbled their way to their assigned lodgings, exhausted and sore.

Simon, on the other hand, seemed like he had even more energy than usual. Despite the long, grueling day, he was somehow wired and restless. You should ask what energy drink he uses after you wrap this up. (Hint: it's the male drive to get some pussy).

As the recruits dispersed, one in particular caught your eye. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious of the bunch, strutting around like he owned the place. You and Simon had seen it countless times before, it got old fast.

"Arrogant little prick," Simon muttered irritably.

You tongue your cheek, "What? Threatened by him?"

It's a pointless taunt— Simon? Threatened? Gosh, it's so fun to get men worked up. Simon's eyes narrow at your comment, a grunt bursting out from him.

"Threatened? Me? Fuckin' hell, no." He grumbles offendedly. "I could take 'im apart within a minute. Can't stand the ones caught up in their own 'ead,"

You hum in agreement. You know for a fact you'd pay to see that one day, and Soap would be right behind you.

"You're lucky you're the most tolerable person 'ere," he adds goodnaturedly.

You backhand his shoulder lightly, "Oh, look, your best friend is coming over!"

And speak of the devil, the recruit struts over with that piece of shit arrogant smirk. Simon rolls his eyes in annoyance as he turns to face the strutting recruit.

"Great. Just what I need," The sarcasm is laid on thicker than the suspicious gravy served this morning at breakfast.

The recruit saunters over, his obnoxious confidence on full display. Simon clenches his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Sir... Do we have more extensive training available?" He asks slowly, his own ego taking a hold of his tongue.

Simon's eye twitches at the recruit's pompous tone. Extensive training, more like a request for special treatment to feed that ego.

"Extensive training?" He echos roughly, "F'you? Why?"

The recruit shrugs boredly, "I think your ways are a bit old fashioned, too easy,"

Easy, old fashioned? This cocky little bastard doesn't know the first thing about hard work. And he's about to serve himself his very own buffet of living hell from Simon. You distract yourself with the grass below your feet, taking everything you have to not laugh.

"Y'think we make things easy on you?" He sneers, taking a step closer to the recruit. "Y'think you're hot stuff, eh? Well, you're in for a rude awakening, rookie."

Your lips purse, frowning deeply to stop the smile.

"What makes y'think you deserve anythin' beyond the standard training regime, hmm? You 'aven't earned a fuckin' thing yet." He glares at the recruit, his eyes dark and intense behind his mask. "Y'get your fuckin' arse to the barracks. Your extensive training for the next month? You'll be cleanin' the bathrooms before lights out."

The recruit's smirk falters at Simon's orders. He's not used to being talked back to, much less being told what to do. But he tries to maintain his cocky attitude, not wanting to back down in front of you, maybe. Ugh, men.

"Bathroom duty? That's... a little degrading, isn't it?"

Simon chuckles darkly, his eyes dancing with amusement. This cocky bastard was really pushing his luck more than you were. You almost feel bad if it weren't so funny.

"Degrading?" he sneers. "Welcome to the military, rookie. It's not a goddamn country club. Y'think you can come 'ere, demand extra training, an' expect special treatment? This ain't a playground. You're 'ere to learn discipline, not stroke your ego."

You stifle a laugh behind your clipboard. This was too good, and all the more hot to see Simon angry.

Simon shoots a sidelong glance at you, even though he's supposed to be acting tough and intimidating, he seems to let himself crack through the lieutenant role around you.

The recruit, on the other hand, doesn't notice your amusement. He just looks sulkily at Simon, clearly not pleased with the prospect of bathroom duty.

Simon grabs the recruit roughly by the collar, the display of power and dominance making you jump in place. Simon's firm grip on the recruit's collar startles the cocky little punk, his eyes wide in surprise.

"See, this is your problem," Simon grits lowly. "Y'think you're untouchable. Y'think you're better than everyone else. But lemme tell you somethin', wanker... you're not."

The recruit stammers, eyes frozen with fear.

"Disobey your superior officer again an' I'll make sure your walls are covered in you."

He gives the recruit a rough shove, releasing his collar. The recruit stumbles back, shocked out of words.

"Consider that your final warning," Simon growls. "Now get your arse to the fuckin' barracks, rookie."

The recruit seems to shrink under Simon's intimidating aura, his cocky demeanor shattered and squashed to dust. He mumbles a half-hearted, "Yes, sir," before hurrying away.

You check your watch, "Well, today has been fun. It's too bad you only have three hours left."

Three hours left, you say? He hadn't even started yet. Because of training, of course.

"Three hours, huh?" He grumbles, eyes setting in determination. "Don't count me out yet, love. I can do a lot in three hours."

"Hurry it up, or in three hours I'll have a brand new shiny vibrator." You grin cheekily.

"You won't be needin' any damn vibrator if I 'ave anythin' to say 'bout it," he hisses. "I don't need any bloody gadgets to 'elp out."

He starts to stalk towards you, his eyes intense and focused. Your thighs squeeze together, pleased with your outcome.

"Three hours is more than enough time f'me to prove myself, love. An' you'll be beggin' before the clock strikes, guarantee ya that."

"Right," you drawl with a roll of your eyes.

He reaches up with a rough hand, grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes meet his.

"Y'think I can't prove myself in three hours, huh? That I need some bloody toy to 'elp me out? I promise you, love, you'll be singin' a different tune."

You giggle teasingly, biting your tongue through your smile.

"Tick tock, Simon." You singsong.

You were mocking him, challenging him, all for this purpose.

"You're playin' a dangerous game, love," he growls down at you, "Y'think you can tease an' walk away with that pretty lil smile on your face. But you're gonna find out real quick that I won't back down, even when you're being a cheeky lil minx."

You smirk dreamily, staring up at him with raw want. You kinda want him to do something extravagant, proving himself just because. When was the last time you had fun like this?

"You're pushing your luck, love," he grunts, his voice gruff with barely concealed desire. "If you keep lookin' at me like that, there ain't gonna be enough time to do everythin' I wanna do to you."

You pull from his hand, turning on your heel as you call over your shoulder,

"I'll be waiting, Si,"

You were taunting him, teasing him, with that sultry little comment and casual tone. You feel his eyes on your ass with each sway of your hips, that naked feeling let's you know he's undressing you with his eyes.

You whip out your phone to look at the time, alas, there's just no way what you want can happen. The rules, regulations, and the severe lack in privacy.

Shooting Captain a quick text for permission to leave base for an hour you head into the higher up showers for some much needed washing of the sweat collected on your body.

As you toss your towel on the bend, your phone buzzes.

'Permission granted. I'll let the team know you'll be out.'

Your heart drops to your ass as you frantically text back—

'Wait no that's not necessary!!!!!'

And then, to your horror, you get a ping in the group text.

Shit.

The team knows youre just going out, but Simon knows. Simon knows you're chickening out from the challenge.

"Fuck!" You hiss, frantically looking around the showers as if there were anything that could help you.

There's nothing. Not the gathered pubes in the moldy shower drain nobody uses, not the faded rusting lockers, not the dirty windows that nobody will ever be able to see out of no matter how much scrubbing

You're fucked.

But how fucked, do we wager? Does this mean Simon will get in his feelings and never talk to you again? Will he out you? (No, it wouldn't ever—) What if he gets revenge?... What kind of revenge?

As you stand there, panic setting in, a voice rings out from the entrance of the shower area.

"What 'appened to three hours?"

You squeak as the door slams, the deadbolt echoing through the room.

You are locked in the showers with Simon.

"What's with the sudden cold feet?" Simon grunts as he rounds the corner, closing the distance between you in slow, measured strides.

"I-I can explain—" you stammer, phone dropping on the bench next to your towel.

He stalks towards you, his steps slow and deliberate. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze that makes your heart beat even faster in your chest.

You're trapped, unable to back away, and he looms over you like a caged beast.

"Explain why you're runnin' away from the challenge you issued, love?" he drawls, stopping just a few feet away from you. "This I 'ave to 'ear."

He crosses his arms as he stands there, his eyes never leaving your face. You're in for it now, his expression seems to say.

You chuckle nervously, gesturing between the two of you, "I mean, realistically it can't ever happen—"

"Who says it can't?" He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "I don't care 'bout the damn regulations, love. That's not gonna stop me from 'aving you."

"Y-You are all about the rules, Si. You follow them to a T— You wouldnt—" you swallow thickly. What have you done to yourself this time.

"I usually follow the rules, yes," he concedes tauntingly, "An' right now, those rules are fuck all to me anymore."

Your tongue suddenly feels heavy in your mouth, "W-What about—"

Simon leans a forearm over your head and slouches down, his eyes darkened by lust and determination.

"What 'bout...?" he mocks, "Y'think I give a damn 'bout those old geezers with their rules right now? All I care 'bout is 'aving you, 'ere an' now."

Simon's free hand reaches up, his fingers lightly tracing your jawline. "I'll show you 'm fuckin' man enough to 'ave you."

While you are speechless, he adds for you to better understand. "It's just you an' me in 'ere."

"But—" you squeak.

Simon's hand moves quick to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"No," he growls, "We don't need to follow the rules in 'ere. We don't need anyone's permission. We could be loud, we could be rough. No one would ever know."

No one... Would know.

He leans in, his lips hovering just centimeters from your ear. "Just us in 'ere. You tellin' me you'd rather 'ave some stupid fuckin' toy over a man that can fill you up all night long?" His hand slides down to your throat, holding you tenderly but firmly, "Just say yes, love."

You whimper in delight, his eyes flickering down to your shifting thighs.

"Yeah," he purrs, his hand angling your head up against the wall. "Y'know you want it. Y'want me."

You want him more than sleep. You want him more than some real fucking food.

"Y'know you don't need anythin' else but me t' fuck you stupid."

"Yes," you moan.

Simon's eyes gleam with approval, his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

"That's good fuckin' girl," he growls.

He licks your neck through the mask, chest expanding with a deep inhale that crushes you to the wall.

"Say y'want me," he demands in a gravelly whisper.

What is thinking? Why would you have to think?

"Want you s'bad," you whine.

"Fuckin' right you do," he mutters.

His other hand drifts down, slowly tracing down your body until it lands on your waist, shoving you into the shower stall. For a moment, you thought you were going to get a little groping, made a knead here and there. But no, you're just standing like a dumbass in the empty shower stall.

"Strip." He growls.

Your skin erupts with gooseflesh in the bare shower shall, his gaze unwavering as he waits for his private show. He steps closer, his own clothes still on, thick arms folding over his chest.

"Slowly," he commands, "Show me what's gonna be mine."

You pinch the hem of your cargos, and then switch to your shirt.

What the hell do you even start with?

"Trousers first," Simon instructs roughly.

He stands there, still dressed, but his eyes devouring every inch of you as you slowly pop the button.

You slowly shimmy the waist band over the swell of each hip, pushing down to your ankles. Simon's breaths grow heavier as you flick the material off your feet his eyes transfixed on the movement.

"Thas it. Bra next," he commands, velvety smooth, "Nice n' slow. I want t'see all o' you."

Bra? Bra next? Why not your shirt?

You kick the cargos away, your shirt barely covering over your panties as you unclasp the bra through your shirt and maneuver it out from one of the sleeves to hold it in the tip of your finger.

Simon's eyes zero in on your pebbled nipples and pretty panties, the thin fabric doing little to hide your curves.

"Good girl," he purrs, "Now come 'ere."

You're... You're not even done. He motions with his fingers for you to approach him, his eyes dark with need.

"Do the thing," you manage out.

"The thing?" he grunts in an enticing voice, taking a step forward as you gesture to your mouth and nose.

He reaches up and pulls the mask to his nose, revealing his lips.

"Is this what y'want, love?" he asks, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you breathe as you wet your lips.

Those would taste so good. You just know it.

"Y'want to see m' mouth, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of those now revealed lips that show his canines, a chipped tooth, his lower face in general in its scarred glory, "Y'want to see what I can do, love?"

He closes the remaining space between you in a single stride, grabbing you by the back of the neck and yanking you forward.

His free hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with dark hunger that makes your pussy pulse.

His mouth descends on yours, his lips claiming yours in a fiercely possessive kiss. You moan lowly, one of your arms circling his thick waist. He's burning up, hot and sweaty under his clothes that reek of his natural musk.

One of your curious hands ventures down, squeezing at his ass. He breaks the kiss with a surprised grunt, a coy smirk.

"Naughty, that," he huffs, "But I like it. My turn,"

The world before you lunges back, his mouth descending on your neck. He sucks and bites at the sensitive skin, his teeth leaving red marks in their wake.

His hands have a rough exploration, sliding down your skin, pausing just above the waistband of your panties to slide in to the globes of your ass. You stand in your tip toes to lean into him, whimpering at his rough gropes and kneading.

His mouth continues it's path down your neck, his teeth grazing the tops of your covered tits as his hands roughly squeeze and massage your perfect ass.

"Look at you," he growls, "Squirmin' an' I haven't even started."

He pushes your ass up, looking over your shoulder to watch it bounce. His hands slide lower, pulling the elastic of your panties down slightly, "Look at this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're fuckin' soaked through."

And he's right.

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid that sticky mess thats unbearably uncomfortable. He tuts, delivering a slap to your ass.

"Tryin' to get yourself off, love?" he purrs, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties.

You can't tell the difference between the onyx color from his pupils, you can hardly look at his eyes when his mouth is right there and his own tits are in your face. God, you want to nibble on those chapped lips, feel those fat biceps squeeze you as his hips snap on the backs of your thighs—

He backs you up, his hard cock pressing against you through his jeans, "Y'want it?"

"Yes!" You mewl.

"Thas what I like to 'ear, love," he husks, his fingers playing with the crotch of your panties. "Get that shirt off, wanna see those pretty tits finally."

You squirm, pulling your shirt up and off and throwing it somewhere that doesn't matter right now.

"Perfect," he rasps, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, "These are fuckin' nice,"

You arch, eyes rolling at the nice kneading to your sore flesh of being stuck in a bra all day. To your displeasure, freezing water sprays down your body and your uncomfortable groan bounces off the walls until the water warms up.

He's still fully dressed though, his clothes sticking to his muscular frame, accentuating every hard muscle and scar.

"Shower's a bit shitty," he says, his eyes raking your body. "But we don't 'ave to wait for that to get goin'."

Your panties have disappeared into his pocket, you follow the way his fingers shove it in— Your eyes divert to that large bulge behind the zipper.

"I know what y'want," he grunts, his hand moving to the belt and zipper.

Simon pulls down his zipper, the metal teeth parting revealing a black pair of boxers, which does little to hide the already impressive outline of his hard cock nudging up against the waist band.

He pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, his body still clothed in a tight black shirt and underwear drenched in water.

Your saliva glands burn at the sight of his happy trail plunging past the waist band, eyeing that nice size you only got a little feel of on your leg—

"Want a closer look?" he purrs, his hand slowly palming the base of his covered cock, precum bleeding out from the thin fabric on his thigh.

You make a face at him, your face burning with embarrassment

"What's the matter, love? You shy now?" he says with a smirk, his hand continuing to slowly palm and squeeze, "Y'were all full o' attitude today."

His head tilts mockingly, stroking himself for you, enticing you. Pinch yourself again, this might actually be a dream—

"Go on," he rasps, "Feel me."

You follow a trail of water down to his shirt clinging to his body, his drenched happy trail, and then the outline of his cock.

With one hand, you tug the waist band forward, clenching as he sucks in a breath that makes his abs tense.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear, "Go on," he husks, "Take it out, love."

He leans back, watching you intently, waiting for you to do as told. Maybe you do like to be told what to do in this context. With your other, you pull him free with your eager hand.

He moans, he fucking moans.

"Thas it, love," he husks out, his voice a little strangled. "Feel me up."

His hands rest on the wall behind you, caging you in. He hips rock into your hand, each stroke of your fist pulling the foreskin back.

"You're so big," you whimper.

Simon lets out a deep, gravelly groan as you speak. It just might be the hottest sound you've ever heard. Right next to the time he was lifting heavy dumbbells, letting all those grunts and growls loose.

He looks down at you, his gaze burning with lust and need, "You want it, baby?" he asks, his hips grinding against your hand harder, "Want this big dick?"

"Want it so bad, Si," you mumbled against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick his teeth.

his mouth claiming yours in a rough, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately tangles with yours, his teeth biting and tugging at your lower lip.

"I know you do," he grunts, his tongue slipping past your lips to slide against yours before speaking again, "You've been eye-fucking me all afternoon, love."

His hands start to wander along your body, mapping your curves with rough caresses,

"You're gonna get it," he husks.

One of his hands moves down to your hip as he moves lower, his mouth following the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and bites.

"Want m'cock in that pretty pussy? Or your mouth?"

Where do you fucking think, smart guy?

"In me, inside me, please," you mewl.

His massive paws squeeze your hips to spin you around, planting your hands against the wall.

"Bend over," he growls, his eyes roaming over your body, "'M gonna give you what y'want."

His hands on your hips start to maneuver your body, making you arch your back and hips out.

He runs a hand up your spine, "So pretty," he murmurs as he takes in the sight of your body bent and on display for him.

He steps up behind you, his body flush against your back, his clothes still fucking on and wet and sticking to your body.

"Gonna fill ya up nice n' good," he sucks on his teeth with a low growl, "Been thinkin' o' me all day 'aven't you?"

His hips rock against your ass slowly, his bare cock rubbing on your supple skin.

His hands massage your ass, kneading and squeezing the flesh as you lean on your forearms, moaning as the blunt head notches to your dripping slit.

"Want m'hands all over you," Simon growls against your flesh, his rough palms skimming over your curves, "Mm, relax, yeah? Nice n' easy— Yeah, thas a good girl,"

His hips do a slow, deliberate grind, rocking into you to make room for him as he moves his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

There's slow shallow thrusts, working you open until he takes a deep stroke down to the base. Fuck, he's thick all over, heavy even inside your walls. If you had the brain power, you'd reach below and hold his balls.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he husks darkly, his breath hot against your skin, "I wanted this since I first saw you."

He's so intense he's burning a hole through you with his gaze, his hands still exploring your body, worshiping every curve, every dip, every inch of you.

His hands slide down to the front of your thighs, coaxing your legs further apart, opening you up for him.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in," he breathes, "I knew you'd feel amazing under my hands."

Your cheek presses into the shower wall with a strangled moan,

"S'deep,"

Simon growls at your moan and pushes into you with more force, his hands squeezing your ass to yank you back, spearing you over and over on his cock.

"Fuckin' knew you'd feel s'tight an' good,"

His hand presses on your lower tummy, mouth hot and panting against your shoulder blade. He grabs the back of your hand, his fingers threading through yours and pressing it against the wall.

"Take it, take—this—cock,"

You choke out a moan, slumping against the wall, "please, so close, so close—"

"You gonna come f'me, huh?" he asks, his voice raw and breathless.

It's a lovely sound on him.

"Yes, please, wanna come, haven't came this fast before—" you beg.

He lets out a ragged, possessive growl at your words, his hips piston roughly against your ass, full balls swinging on your clit over and over.

"Come on, pet," he snarls, deft fingers twirling tight circles around your clit.

You whimper loudly, hands sliding down the slick shower walls, hips straining for him as you come hard with a broken mewl.

"That's it, fuck—"

He breaks off in a gutteral moan, hips stilling as he spills inside you. Simon catches you as your legs buckle out from under you, scooping you up against his chest to lean you back against the wall.

You don't even know what just happened in the span of 5 minutes. He's panting hard, his heart pounding against your back.

"Fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Fuckin' perfect, love,"

You smile lazily back at him, pawing at his shoulders to pull him in a soft languid kiss, his lips claiming yours in soft, sweet caresses. He melts against your touch, the fierce need from earlier receding now that you're sated. He returns your lazy kiss, his hands gently roaming up and down your back.

"Bloody hell," he mutters against your lips, "Fuckin' perfect, woman." He nips at your neck, "'M not done yet."

Looks like he is the cure to your sleeping problem.

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

angst and fluff???

starting the day in bed all cuddly bc you're finally sharing a rest day

sadly, a friend of abby unexpectedly comes over, and abby knows how hard their friend's breakup has been, so she let's them stay.

reader is sooo pissed and usually abby can immediately recognise the jealousy and bad vibes, but she's so distracted

when the friend realises this, she asks to see abby's room and tries to kiss her

reader sees this and literally just storms off

im so sorry its so long lol, angsty ending pls. i hate miscommunication, but i have a feeling you'll do it amazing

you can totally change it too !!

off day

girlfriend!abby x girlfriend!reader

summary: abby continuously fails to heed your warnings about her best friend's intentions. when it gets to the point where she can no longer give her [friend] the benefit of the doubt, you're already gone.

cw: fluff (not for long HEHEHE), angst, kinda irritating abby, miscommunication but not really more like disregard or misunderstanding of said communication, swearing, kiss without consent, no specific physical description of reader, she/her pronouns are used.

a/n: tysm for the request anon:) I had something like this in my ideas to write anyway so I really just killed two birds with one stone. I changed things up a bit hope you don't mind. initially I was gonna make nora the friend but I can't do my girl like that so I just pulled mari's name from yellowjackets because I cannot stand her and can't wait till she dies :D (100% certain she's pit girl idc). anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! lemme know what you think in the replies!

wc: 2.5k

For the first time in a really long time, yours and Abby's off days coincided. Meaning you both could sleep in as long as you wanted. Could stay in bed all day, entangled in each other if you wanted to. And for the most part, that was your plan. Of course you would eventually have to leave the comfort of your shared bed to shower, and eat and perform other bodily functions needed to survive, but for the better part of the day you planned to never leave Abby's side. And neither did she plan to leave yours.

"I missed this so much," Abby spoke from where her face was nuzzled in your neck. She planted a kiss there, making you giggle at the feeling.

"I'm not leaving this bed ever again," you said, sinking deeper into the comfort of Abby and your shared bed. Abby looked up at you, raising up to kiss you sweetly on the lips. You reciprocated the gesture, easily getting lost in her touch. The kiss deepened, both not wanting to pull away. It really had been so long.

Abby had you pinned to the bed in no time, kisses no longer being focused on your lips but being littered everywhere on your body, when suddenly-

Knock Knock!

You and Abby arose due to the sound of frantic knocking, quickly throwing on your robes and heading towards the front door. Abby looked through the peephole, alarmed to see one of her best friends standing on the other side looking frazzled.

"Mari what the hell?" she questioned, opening the door for her friend. The friend in question immediately threw herself into Abby's arms.

"I really need you right now, Abby."

Reader

You weren't a toxic monster. Friends existed. Abby had friends who would need her at times. Just like there'll be times when she'd need them. It was the same for you. But you couldn't help but feel irritated at the sight of Mari.

She was one of those friends that were only suddenly a constant presence after their friend was taken. it seemed like she'd always find the times when you and Abby were just enjoying yourselves to barge in and make things about her.

At first you didn't want to think like that, chalking it down to just a standard case of jealousy. Abby had even noticed your change in behaviour.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of her?" Abby laughed, seeing you roll your eyes in relief and sigh after Mari left, having spent the entire day clinging to Abby.

You felt lousy for feeling jealous. It was so stupid. "I know I don't have anything to worry about but I just wanted to spend today with you." you voiced your frustration to her.

She scooped you up, carrying you to you guys' room, "I'm glad you know that I only have eyes for you. And plus, I am so not her type."

"You don't have to be her type for her to not want me around," you mumbled under your breath, still ashamed at your own pettiness.

"I heard that," Abby chuckled, "and I meant that she doesn't like girls."

A part of you felt stupid and embarrassed. Yet, not a big enough part for you to completely drop suspicions.

But that was only one out of the many other times she had coincidently showed up to hang or seek comfort from Abby, when you both intended on spending time together.

You even confronted Abby about it.

"I know how this may come off, but I'm not trying to limit how much you see your friends." you started, "but it gets to a point Abby. And either you're not seeing that she's taking advantage of your willingness to help and showing zero respect for what we have or you know and you're just not bothered by it. and quite frankly, I can't tell you which is worse!"

Abby heatedly responded, "She isn't taking advantage of anything! She's my friend and if she needs my help I won't hesitate to give it to her. Why are you making it out to be a bad thing that I care about my friends?"

You huffed in frustration, "I'm not talking about your other friends though am I Abby? I'm talking about Mari. Specifically, Mari. If she doesn't have feelings for you, she clearly doesn't like or respect me, and if you have no problem with either of those then I think you need to think a little harder about the future status of our relationship from here on out. I don't want to argue or make things worse but I'm getting tired of sounding like a broken record."

She went quiet at that, seemingly thinking it over.

After a moment of silence, Abby spoke up, “Look, baby. I'm sorry you've been feeling that way and I've been of no help. but I've already told you that she's straight-"

You sighed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. How could she still not get it?

"-But!" she interrupted your huff, "I trust you. If she doesn't make you feel respected then I'll take care of it."

You didn't look convinced.

"I'll have a chat with her. Don't worry, babe."

And Abby did come through on her promise to talk to her. The only thing was, Mari didn't exactly follow through with giving you guys space.

For the time being after Abby had spoken to her, she gave what you took as a half-hearted apology, stating she didn't mean to intrude or make it seem like she didn't care. But not very long after, she continued her usual behaviour. Just in a more careful way now that she knew you were keeping an eye on her.

So, to say your suspicion at yet another one of her intrusions was warranted, was an understatement in your opinion.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Abby asked, guiding a still attached Mari towards the living room. You closed the door behind them.

She divulged into how much her breakup from 2 months ago was still affecting her, claiming that a resurfaced picture of her and her ex triggered her that morning. In your eyes; bullshit. It seemed Abby could also see the crap for once, turning to make eye contact with you.

You raised your eyebrows at her as she turned back to face Mari, telling her to go wait for her in their bedroom.

When Mari left for your room and Abby and you were left alone, she started, "I know you're probably mad that we were interrupted, but she really is struggling a lot with this breakup."

You looked at her deadpan, already accepting that your perfect day at home with Abby was no more.

"And I know, her timing is unfortunate. again." You gave an oh really look, like you hadn't been pointing that out for the past 9 months.

You sighed, quite fed up with the same back and forth, "Just go help her Abby. Your friend needs you."

She looked at you, how apologetic she was evident on her face. But if she were truly sorry you wouldn't be having the same problem over and over.

She walked closer to you, holding your shoulder, "I'll go take care of it really quick, I promise. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves."

You scoffed, "That's not what I was concerned about but sure." Of course she still thought this was about you being petty or jealousy. Why couldn't she get it?

"Wha-"

"I'm gonna go get something for you guys from the shop. She'll want something sweet right?" You said, throwing on a coat and shoes, grabbing your wallet from the kitchen island where it remained the night before and heading out to your neighborhood mini mart.

After every argument and discussion you've had about this same issue, she still thinks it's a matter of being irritated at the intrusions? Well sure it was, to some extent, but this was so much more than that. And if Abby was gonna continue refusing to see the truth then this relationship could not last much longer.

Abby

"Sorry I took so long," Abby apologized to Mari, stepping into your and her room. Her friend was looking around your room, poking at the little trinkets and pictures littered around the area.

"It's fine," she responded, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed with Abby, "Is she mad? I know she doesn't like me."

"What? No, she doesn't not like you," Abby replied not so convincingly. Mari clearly wasn't convinced. "She's just..a bit frustrated I guess. We were gonna sleep in and do nothing today seeing as we're both off for the first time in forever." she chuckled.

Instead of feeling apologetic like a normal friend, Mari's facial expression changed to one resemblant to annoyance before she finally spoke up.

"Don't you think she's being a little unreasonable?"

Abby turned to her, confused. "Huh?"

Mari continued, "I mean. I'm not trying to imply anything bad about her but did she think she'd get to be the only person in your life now?" She finsihed with an eye roll and sickening smirk.

"What? No, that is not the case at all-"

"But it is!" Mari stood up, "She doesn't like me hanging around you. It's like she wants you all to herself or something. It's weird."

Now Abby was irritated, "Mar you don't know what you're talking about. If she gave off that impression it's because the times you choose to show up are when we don't want to be interrupted. Which is pretty often if I'm being honest." Abby stood up too, matching her friend's energy.

"What do you mean 'we'? You can't actually agree with her? We were friends before you even met her."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I'm just supposed to choose you over her!" Abby was infuriated that Mari could ever think that way, immediately jumping to your defense.

"She's my girlfriend. And we see and talk to each other enough, quite frankly. I get to hang out with you more than I get to with her because we're both always busy, so yeah. If I were her I'd be a little frustrated if every time I finally got the chance to be alone with my girlfriend, her friend was suddenly showing up!"

Mari looked taken aback at the tone Abby had taken with her. She had never spoken like that to anyone, let alone her friend.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice."

Expertly, Mari broke down in tears covering her face. Now Abby felt double bad. She was already going through so much and instead of being a comfort, all Abby could do was yell at her.

She quickly pulled her friend into her arms, caressing her head while repeating how sorry she was. Mari looked up into Abby's eyes, gradually bringing her face closer and closer to hers. Neither of them heard the front door open and your footsteps coming closer to the room.

As soon as the room door opened, you saw Mari on her tiptoes, lips pressed against Abby's. Abby immediately turned to where you stood in the open door, not realizing the compromising position she was in until you dropped the bag you held. Your face angrily held a Now do you see? expression as you slammed the bedroom door behind you, retreating to the living room. You had no interest in hearing what she could possibly have to say.

Just as you stormed out, Abby pushed Mari away from being so close to her and called out for you. "Baby, wait!"

"What the fuck was that?!" Abby bitterly asked her soon to be ex-friend, roughly wiping the feeling of Mari off her lips.

"I- I'm sorry, I just- I've liked you for so long-" Abby scoffed looking away from Mari's face, fuming, "-and- and she's no good for you! I'm sorry but you know it too, she's toxic Abby!"

Abby raised her eyebrows, eyes widening at the sheer insanity Mari was spewing, "The only toxic one here is you Mari! You know she warned me about this. I can't believe I didn't believe her."

"Wha- see?! She warned you about me? Who does she even think she is, she just got here! I've been your friend for years!"

"Too bad, so sad mari," Abby taunted, finally fed up with her, "Who she is, is my girlfriend and you're not going to get in the way of that. So while I'm asking nicely, get the fuck out of my house I never want to see you again."

Mari looked at her dumbfounded. Like she couldn't believe the words she was hearing.

"Out! now!" Abby demanded, following Mari out of the room. Mari, accepting this really was the end, stormed out of the front door completely ignoring your presence. You sat at the kitchen island watching Abby from across the room.

Reader

You looked at Abby who was now making her way towards you. She felt the anger in your muted facial expression, knowing she fucked up. Bad.

"I- you were right." You didn't say anything, continuing to stare at her.

"Believe me when I say, I really had no idea she felt that way and was trying to get in the way, I gave her the benefit of the doubt but I shouldn't have dismissed your skepticism. I should have known better than to think you'd have an issue with her for a reason so silly as plain jealousy.”

You didn't grace her with a response this time either. She came closer, placing her hands on your thighs, looking into your eyes.

"You told me so and I let it get to this point and I am so so so sorry, I promise she won't be an issue anymore. I told her off, for good this time."

Your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you tried to muster up the courage to forgive her. A single tear ran down your face, your eyes red in anger and frustration and sadness. she tried wiping the tear from your cheek but you brushed her hand away, finally speaking up.

"No." you said, shaking your head as you got up from the seat in the kitchen.

Abby looked frantic, "Wh-what do you mean 'No'? I told you I was sorry, I- i took care of it." She trailed after you.

You moved through the living room, heading straight to open the front door. Abby quickly stopped you, using her strength to hold the door ajar so you couldn't leave just yet, "Where are you going?" Her voice sounded shaky.

"I need some space, Abby. Please?" you asked, not looking her in the eye. You couldn't handle seeing the pain in her eyes. You needed to think about yourself right now.

Time and time again, you've shut out your own gut feelings to please Abby. Insistent on there being no ulterior motives on Mari's part, you trusted her. Maybe you were just jealous. Maybe you were too possessive of Abby. But jealousy was not such a blinding emotion that you were rendered unresponsive to disrespect.

She respects you. She respects us. You believed her again.

Yet here you stood. Relationship hanging on by a spider silk thread.

She begrudgingly let you go, trusting you'd not too long be back. Your mental bags were already packed, however, and there was no coming back.

a/n: sooo how we feeling bout that one?? idk tbh. also are mini marts a thing in the land of capitalism (america)? I've literally never been there so if they aren't, just pretend if you're american. (it's in the name, it's like a little supermarket/shop usually walking distance from housing areas. you're never really too far away from a mini mart in the caribbean) . also, it's crazy to me how subconsciously my default when writing is to relate to an american audience (I hate yall so bad for that, jk jk, or am i). like where I live, coats are utterly unnecessary. no one wears a coat that isn't a rain coat unless it's part of a fit and they're going to one of the colder malls typically up north, idk I just found that funny.

anyway I'll stop yapping and continue writing the other requests I've gotten. mwah! love yall. thanks for reading!!

[1-800-local-slut]

Before and After (Part 1)

The bullet that went through his brain knocked all the part of Rex that sucked clean out of him. But he still existed before that.

Rex 'Splode' Sloan x Black! Alien! Reader

Warnings: really hard pregnancy, vomit, smut mentions, Rex doubts his parenting abilities, also Rex and reader are young parents trying to figure it out, Rex being a cunt but this was before he got his brains blasted out lol, woke!Mark, I tried to make the characters talk like teenagers because I feel like we don't see enough of it in the show, Rex and Eve broke up WAY before he hooked up with reader because man stealing is never the move

Note: you're from a planet called Moraya and your parents sent you to Earth to stay with your uncle due to a disease sweeping the planet. They couldn't leave because your mother is the head of medicine, and your father is a high-ranking member of the government. By the time the crisis was dealt with you were a teenager and had adjusted to life on Earth, your parents understood your choice to stay. Your powers are mostly mental. You can control minds, have telekinesis, take over people's bodies, manipulate people's emotional states, and sometimes see the future in your dreams. Your body functions like a human, so your vulnerable to injures and human deaths but not illnesses (like car accidents, falling and breaking your neck, choking, drowning). You can fly, but not everyone on your planet can. It's more of a recessive gene since overtime your people didn't need to do it as often. That's all y'all!

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

If Rex finished high school, he might've remembered to use a condom that night. Nah. He still wouldn't have done it. He was twenty years old, with a three year old and his nineteen year old fiancé. You two were broke as two jokes. You were trying to get through med school, he was trying to save the world, but you two still found the time to be the best parents possible. He was stressed all the time, a few gray hairs were growing and the bags under his eyes were never leaving.

But Rex hasn't stopped smiling since the moment you agreed to marry him. Not when your baby woke up screaming in the middle of the night, not when your baby threw up on him four times in a day, not when you broke his hand during labor. Not even when he was woken up by you struggling to put on your crocs to go to get food in the middle of the night.

At first, Rex spent so much time wishing he just pulled out. Of course Plan B wasn't enough, you were an alien. But no matter how much you reassured him that it would've worked and that the Plan B just failed, he still didn't believe you. To this day he's ashamed to admit that he didn't want his baby at first.

Even suggested it wasn't his, to which he got a firm slap.

"Pregnant?!"

"I just thought I'd let you know-"

"So what, you like need a ride to the place? Because I kind of don't have my car right now."

Silence settled over the HQ and disgust filled your face.

"No, Rex, I don't need a ride. I just wanted to let you have a choice-"

"What, you wanna keep it?! Listen, you're cool but I'm not gonna have a kid. I mean how do you know its even mine?" Just then Mark came in and let out a soft 'oooo'. Even Invincible, as clueless as he was sometimes knew that was definitely the worst thing to say to you.

You let out an offended gasp before anger replaced disgust.

"Are you calling me a slut?!" The slap that followed honestly left him reeling. To this day he could still feel your handprint on his face sometimes and it's almost been four years since you slapped the taste out of his mouth.

"I was OFFERING you a chance to know it. I have family on my home planet. Seeing as it's your child too I thought you might've wanted a chance to raise it but you've answered the question before I asked. I will be taking it home with me when it's old enough to make the journey with me."

"Oh. Okay, cool. So you aren't asking me for money?"

"I wouldn't wipe my ass with the crumpled two dollars you have in your pocket. Me and MY CHILD will be good without you, trust." Then you were gone, and only Rexsplode and Invincible remained in the room. But Invincible decided to be Mark for a second and talk to his friend.

"Dude...she's having your baby." It was the first thing he said when Rex sat down on his bed as the two teenagers sat down in his room in the Gaurdian's HQ.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay after that slap." He scoffed while he grabbed a shirt that smelt clean off his bed and removed his costume.

"Did you want me to be on your side here...?"

"Okay yeah, maybe I wasn't the most sensitive but what did I really say wrong?"

"Are we being deadass???" Now in his own regular clothes (where he got them from Rex still doesn't know), Mark made a face of disgust. The type of face you make when you're truly questioning your homie.

Rex gave an indignant shrug. He knew but his pride hurt more than his face at that point.

"We'll do a play by play, maybe it'll help you. Okay, she comes in, tells you she's pregnant. This is the same girl who had to leave her home and adjust to living in a strange place and only has one other person on Earth who understands her. She's going through something emotionally heavy, away from her own people who probably have customs that she can't partake in, because she's probably unable to fly back while pregnant.

Also we're teenagers, she's a year younger than us so there's also the fact that she has to kiss young adulthood and the rest of her life goodbye because she's choosing to keep YOUR BABY, and she didn't even just take the kid and dip. I don't know man, maybe you shouldn't have accused her of sleeping around and then instead of being any type of understanding you told her you couldn't even give her a ride to Planned Parenthood."

Awkward silence settled through the room.

"Also why did you call her 'cool' like you haven't known her for years?"

"Don't make me sound like a loser."

"Hey man I hate to break it to you but you're doing that on your own."

"I don't even know it's mine!" Arms thrown out to the side, he grunted in exhaustion. It felt like you knocked a tooth lose, damn.

"We know she isn't sleeping around because she hasn't been in my bed." With a dramatic rub of his hands Mark lifted both of his eyebrows and made a dumbass face. Rex's own face crinkled in disgust and he looked at Mark while he leaned back on his palms.

"What if you're not her type?"

And Mark had the audacity to snort, and motion towards himself.

"Have you SEEN me? I would sleep with me too."

"...Would that count as masturbation or selfcest? Or twincest?"

"No because it's me not a twin."

"What if the other you becomes sentient and wants its own life."

"Yeah but...no...wait."

And as time went by, you went through pregnancy. Alone. You went through four months of what from a distance looked like a horrible experience, and while it tugged at his heart strings you told Eve who told Mark, who told Rex that you would die before you spoke to Rex again. Especially about your baby. It got to the point where you struggled to control your powers and had to fess up to Cecil. Who even expressed his disgust with Rex's behavior in a subtle way.

"You're the first reason I've ever had to figure out maternity leave for a pregnant alien teenager." Was all he said after Rex denied paternity leave.

It took one night for Rex to actually start growing a pair. They fully grew in after he caught a bullet to the cranium.

It was one night after a mission, two weeks before you had to start maternity leave, and the Guardians just returned from a pretty mid battle while Mark was on a little vacation according to Cecil.

While everyone celebrated, Rex left to use the bathroom when he heard it. You cried alone, in your spare bedroom that you sometimes crashed in. You were laying in your bed, attempting to muffle your cries, clutching your stomach and head. A sliver of light from the door widened until you realized Rex was standing in your door way.

You turned, looking over at him and scowled.

"You-" A gag cut you off. Were you trying not to vomit? Boxes of some of your things, you were clearing out for your maternity leave but it looked like you were getting ready to never come back. Then he remembered what you said. When it was old enough, you'd be flying back home with the rugrat.

"You are the last person I want to see. Piss off." And it would've worked better if you didn't immediately throw up in your hand and make a mad dash to the toilet before the rest of your vomit got all over you. He was a dick, not a monster so he followed.

While you threw up the contents of your stomach into the toilet, he couldn't just let the team hear. You'd clearly gone out of your way to avoid them seeing you crying and suffering already. He slid into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

When you finally did stop, you slumped against the bathtub. You sat, staring blankly at the floor before your face crumpled and you buried your face into your hands. You began to sob, with vomit on your shirt and your shoulders shook violently.

After a moment of Rex drowning in guilt you let out a shaky breath and hugged yourself.

"I miss my mom."

You staggered to your feet before you shoved him roughly out of your way into the sink, then left the bathroom. He heard wind from your room, realizing you were flying home and for the first time in a long time Rex began to think. He began to think real long and real hard.

It took the two of you to make it. You chose to keep it. You didn't even try to force him into fatherhood. The least he could do was loan you a hand until it was time for you to go. Without realizing it, he was cleaning the toilet. Everyone else was downstairs partying, celebrating their newfound strength as a team and winning the fight. And Rex was cleaning your vomit off the toilet, because without him you wouldn't be throwing up in the first place.

It wasn't a total 180 from there. He was still Rex, you still didn't even want to talk to him, but he tried. He left little treats he remembered you like only for them to be left untouched completely where he left them. Except for the time you stormed down the metal steps of HQ and threw the box of strawberry waffers at his face.

"Fuck, ow!"

"We didn't need shit from you then. We don't need a fucking thing from you now."

As you turned to storm back up the steps he grabbed your arm and narrowly avoided a swift slap.

"Listen, listen. You're right. You're right to be mad at me. I was being a dick."

"You still are."

Wrestling your arm free, he remembered that fire that attracted him to you in the first place. He caught you by your shoulders before he realized you could just kick him in the balls and settled for just grabbing one of your arms. Your back turned to him, he wasn't even sure if you were listening, but he had to speak now.

"You're uncomfortable, I know you are. And I know it's partially my fault. At least tell me what I can do to ease your discomfort just a little. You hate me, it's my fault. But let me help. Just a little." The tension in your shoulders dropped just a bit.

"...I'm having really strong cravings for hot chocolate."

He didn't start falling in love with you for a while afterwards. You were on maternity leave now, but he climbed through your bedroom window with the bacon wrapped shrimp you had requested when he texted you, he was out if you were hungry. He spun around on your desk chair when he realized. You've been pregnant for a while now. While you devoured the shrimp he noticed.

At six months you didn't look three months from giving birth. You seemed to be enjoying his presence just a bit now. Sure, there where changes but those were more so personality wise. You no longer snatched the food from his hands anymore and sent him away, you even let him sit less than ten feet away from you sometimes. Infact, you had the bump of a three-month pregnancy. Did you just have a small baby growing in there?

"It'll be a big one." You said, wiping your fingers as you watched Annie on your laptop.

"Really? It doesn't look like it."

"I'm not far along yet. But-"

"You're six months pregnant."

"Oh. Because my planet is so far away from my own solar systems Sun, my planet rotates slow. Time is different. Years are longer. I did some math; I'll be pregnant for about a year and a half.

"A YEAR AND A HALF?!"

"Shut the fuck up! Yes Rex, on my planet it wouldn't be so long. But the time is weird here, everything moves so fast." You stifled a yawn as you sipped your milkshake.

"...Do you think it's gonna tear you in two?"

You giggled. And his diversion worked. You spoke about home before, but since you got pregnant it seemed like you were plauged with constant home sickness. It had to be hard for you to be away from home this way. When you were going through something so momentous, and your planet was a weeklong flight. That was if you flew without sleeping and pee breaks.

"I don't want to think about that. I already know the birth is gonna hurt."

As you laughed, the light shifted around you. He noticed things on your face he never noticed before. The way your mouth curved when you smiled, the way you covered your mouth when you laughed, the small crinkles around your eyes. You were hot before, he knew that. It's why he fucked you. But he never noticed that you were more than that. You were beautiful. Genuinely beautiful.

And after that night he tried to fight it. He didn't want to be a parent. But he couldn't date you without being a part of his own kid's life. That would be low even for him. As your stomach grew so did his feelings for you. Infact, when the Lizard League put a hole in his skull, he woke up to keep fighting because he pictured you.

He was being dragged down into death, seeing his life flash before his eyes, and then finally he saw you. But it wasn't a memory. It was a prophecy.

His head laid on your lap, you smiled down at him while you squished his face in your hands. Next to him, a small bundle wrapped in a blanket slept soundly. He heard birds singing sweet songs, the Sun casted warm light on his skin and gave you a radiant glow, and you were brighter than all of it. You leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead, telling him he had to get up and go. There was an emergency. He had to go, he had to fight, had to blow shit up.

He did and from there, the rest was history.

[marilynthornhilllover]

I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me,

Emily. P x Jennifer. J x Fem!Reader

Warning: talk of drug consumption, reader is high, mood swings, use of guns (weed) , bad flirting, mommy kink, praise kink, teasing, cringe kiss etc .

A/n: I saw that new jennifer and emily episode where Emily was high and they were so cute! Had to make a fic😌

It was that quite long awaited time of the year where criminal agents are given two weeks off from work. You were beyond exhausted but nevertheless was very happy to finally be able to take off your FBI vest and feeling relieved that you won't have to be picking it up for another week or so.

You soon realized that you literally didn't have plans arranged for the upcoming two weeks ahead, or even tonight. Everyone was pairing up as they packed up their office stuff and headed out. Spencer and Derek laughed and gave eachother a high five as they made their way downstairs to sign out while Emily and jj were already giggling about some random joke as they continued to pack up.

You nervously decided to walk up to them standing in the corridor like a shadow making sure not to seem creepy— but maybe you were doing the opposite. Ever since you joined the team, yes you did make friends but no one ever went the extra mile to offer to hang out with you. Only Emily would now and then eat lunch with you at her desk.

Jennifer wasn't bad either, she did offer to help you with a case file once, you went over to her house which you complimented her for the cozy interior, and yes the boys were also good to you but on a employee holiday like this no one was paying any attention whatsoever to you. They already plans of their own.

You on the other hand, had none, all you were gonna do was shower, eat, sleep and repeat for the next week or so. Nothing productive, not as if you had anything to do either. Prentiss and Mantegna had insisted that someone help you with case files so its not as if you have a major cade to crack over the holiday.

You were as free as a bird and your energetic self needed something to reinforce that energy into. If you could have went on a cruise for two weeks you definitely would have.

Emily scoffed at Jennifer's joke before turning around and spotting you cuddled up in the corner like a little mouse. She tilted her head to the side before approaching you with a warm smile.

" hey hon, you got any plans for the holiday?" She asked chewing a piece of gum that she had been for the entire day — somtimes you wonder if any flavour at all is still existence in it.

" uhh nope, but I'll sure my couch has plans for me though" you said sarcastically and of course she laughed, because Emily laughs at anything and everything which you did find cute. Emily always made sure that she kept everyone at a level where they felt at their absolute best when around her.

She was never mean to anyone really. Always funny, ambitious, smart and talented she was everything. Sometimes her aura was just too high, but she was always still approachable and not prideful.

Emily was like one of those drugs that you couldn't stop using because it feels too good, and when you do take it, it altars with your entire brain function and chemistry.

And speaking of chemistry, that was something you and Emily had alot of. Everytime her eyes made contact with yours, you felt as if your body was thrown into the deepest pits of hell. You'd get shivers everytime she passed you or called you a pet name. You'd go completely weak in your knees when she made the littlest amount of psychical contact with your skin — it was absolutely ridiculous just how easily she could get under your skin.

Or the time when you were making coffee in the kitchen and she needed to grab something from the top shelf and she moved you by putting her hands on your hips, with her chest pressed so closely against your back with face by your neck.

Emily made you question things. You knew you always had a thing for older women, always, since highschool and it never seemed to go away. And Emily was exactly your type, you just weren't sure if she felt the same way in return and you didn't wanna ruin the amazing friendship you both had by letting your stupid emotions and hormones get the best of yourself.

" well I'm sure you'll find something to entertain yourself, JJ and I are hooking up at her place tonight for snacks and a movie" she placed hands on her hips are she turned to look at jj who was texting away on her phone before turning back to you. You gaved her a akward smile, before a breathy nervous laugh escaped your mouth.

" hooking up huh" you saw as her eye brows quirked before a sly smile came into evidence on her face and quickly glanced at Jennifer who was now angrily texting before taking a step closer towards you, closing the the last gap space that was there. Her body heat and perfume over took your senses making your breath hitch.

You pressed your palm against her chest sneaking a quick glance at jj and the camera above. Emily was looking at you with a teasing smirk, she leaned down besides your ear and whispered.

" do wanna hook up with me as well?" She pulled back to see the reaction on your face and just as she imagined it was absolutely priceless. She chuckled before pulling away completely.

" oh my God emily would you leave poor y/n alone, let's go already" Jennifer said with a tint of exhaustion and annoyance her voice. Emily chuckled before gently caressing your cheek. The both women waved you goodbye before departing and going their way.

You sighed before picking up your bag and leaving, you locked your office door and went home. You did decided to walk with a few case files home and evidence objects to keep yourself busy during the holiday to stop yourself from going insane from the intense boredom you were prone to have.

— — — —

Emily and Jennifer had just sat down and were about to enjoy their late afternoon with wine and salt and vinegar chips when a continuation of loud knocking could be heard on jj's front door. Both women looked at eachother with utter confusion on their faces — the weren't expecting anyone. Jennifer decided to get up and go check the door, Emily following closely behind with her hand placed tightly on her gun.

The door bell soon started ringing along with the knocks which triggered Jennifer even more. Unlocking the door Jennifer threw it open, not caring what stood on the opposite side of it, after all emily was ready to protect her best friend at all cost, even if it meant shooting someone in their foor.

" if I had my way I swear I would—" as soon as she saw you she stopped talking, her eye brows quirked as she squinted her eyes to make a better appearance of your face in the dim moon light. Emily let out a soft sigh when she saw you but quickly went back into a state of worry at the same time.

Now you had both women wondering what you were doing at their house.

" y/n? I didn't know you were coming over, did Emily invite you?" Jennifer turned around hoping to get a confirmation nod from Emily but she shook her head and pursed her lips, letting her know she was just as confused as her.

" Well aren't you guys a bit rude, aren't you gonna invite me in?" You muttered but before they could react you let yourself in. You carefully walked down the long fancy corridor switching off some lights on your way because they made your eyes burn, making your way to the living room area, having knowing your way around jj's house since the last two times you were there.

You stumbled over the coffee table and landed right onto the sofa, face first with a soft groan. You dropped the ziplock bag of cheese puffs you had brought onto the floor.

She walked up to you and you and sat beside you on the couch, she picked you up by both your forearms and made you look at her.

Both women side eyed eachother, both in desperate need to know what on God's green earth was going on. Jennifer leaned against the wall to further scrutinize you. Emily on the other hand was just worried how you got here on your own with no car or phone.

" hey y/n sweetie are you..... drunk?" Her voice sounded like when water got into a phone speaker and you tried to play a song— you couldn't understand it. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at the table to which your face instantly lit up when you saw the salt and vinegar lays chips.

You grabbed them ferociously then took out some chopsticks you had stuffed in the back pocket of your jeans and started eating the chips. At this point both women were flabbergasted, mouths open, jaws dropped. Jennifer took a deep breath before she turned around and went to her fridge to grab you a drink to help you sober up because it was crystal clear that you were beyond drunk, drunk was an understatement.

" what time is it?" You suddenly asked putting the chips down and dusting off your hands.

" time for some hydration, here you go" Jennifer said as she passed you a bottle of cold cranberry juice. Once again your face lit up like a child on Christmas day.

" ohhhh, it's got what plants crave!" You exclaimed. The look on Jennifer's face when you said that was priceless as Emily silently continued to look at you with a completely blanket stare.

You placed the bottle of juice at the side of your head as if it was an ice pack and burped. You cleared your throat before speaking up again.

" have you guys seen that movie! Idiot city!.... wait city Idiot... wait... yeah" it's like your body was replaced with a child's and this called for huge concern. Emily sighed heavily and took the bottle from your hand.

" Idiocracy?" Jennifer whispered and you nodded.

" I knew I liked you! Ohhh, I and on my way here I saw a cat jumping off your house roof then it turned into a dog and flew away as a mosquito" you said before the loudest laugh took you over that you almost started crying.

Emily whispered " oh good lord" before she shook her head, Jennifer was still completely and totally lost for words. Jennifer had a feeling that being drunk would not cause someone to behave like this— well of course she knew, she's a profiler. She had a feeling you were high, but she didn't want you to act out and she would need proof for Emily because knowing her she wouldn't believe for a minute you would do drugs.

" umm y/n what's in the bag?" Jennifer asked and your eyebrows quirked, you placed your finger at you ear urging her to repeat even though she was so damn close to you.

" What's in the bag" she repeated as she dragged her words this time. You shrugged.

" I don't know what time the supermarket closes" emily stood up and walked towards to kitchen to grab her phone, you had the agent stressed. Jennifer just took it upon herself to grab the bag of " cheese puffs" before she walked towards emily.

" look I know you may not believe but I have a pretty good feeling that, that girl right there is literally the profound definition of what we call high" emily scoffed.

" Oh come on, she probably had too much wine I mean weren't we just about to drink wine as well?" She restated trying to convince Jennifer, but honestly to this rate she just couldn't, Jennifer was already convinced from her own opinion.

" emily elizabeth prentiss which wine do you know makes someone this drunk?" Jennifer asked, emphasizing on the last two words of her sentence. Emily shrugged before looking back at you, who was now sniffing the air every two seconds like a curious dog. Jennifer rolled her eyes before opening the bag of cheese puffs and taking a sniff.

She gaged before pulling away quickly.

" this smells like straight up weed!" She swiftly turned to let Emily have a sniff, to which Emily pulled away as well. Jennifer closed the bag and turned it around where there was writing in black. " DO NOT OPEN, CONTAINS CASE 101 EVIDENCE".

" you ate the case evidence! Oh my god!" Jennifer looked like she was going to erupt like a volcano and her high pitched tone of voice was making your head hurt and ears ring.

" I was hungry, and I didn't know that they were edibles" you whispered as you squinted your eyes since it was getting harder to see. Jennifer looked at you in disbelief as she turned to Emily for back up. Before Emily could utter a word Jennifer was already furious.

" Emily, don't even! She basically ate the entire bag!" She shouted. She saided pacing the room with her fingers gently massaging her temple to calm her.

" what are we gonna tell hotch, or even worst David" Jennifer covered her face with her both her hands before leaning over the kitchen counter.

" Well I mean, she probably just ate the backup stash, it should be fine, we should really be worrying about is her health" emily muttered scratching her head. Jennifer looked up at emily as her jaw dropped.

" your defending her?!" Emily raised her hands in defense but before she could reply Jennifer took the chance.

" I seriously cannot believe you right now!" Jennifer once again, started pacing the room, this time even more quicker.

" Oh come on jj, what are the odds that people make silly mistakes like these?" Jennifer stopped, and looked at emily with wide eyes.

" Well with the odds as high as her I'd say zero!" She said angrily before picking up her phone.

Emily sighed before looking over at you who was now eating the chips and gnawing your teeth wildly making crumbs fall all over the place. In a way Emily felt bad for you, mostly pity because she knew what you did was down right stupid but Jennifer was being a tadbit too harsh on you in your current position — knowing you couldn't properly comprehend the situation or what was going on.

" ok I'll take her home and we can speak to the team about this tomorrow when y/n is a better state of mind, ok?" Emily said in a reassuring voice. Jennifer sighed in frustration before biting her lip and nodding approvingly.

Emily carefully picked you up off the couch and wrapped her arm around your waist as she insisted to take you home safely. Her body warmth was comforting and her perfume was like a lullaby putting you to sleep this time. You melted in her embrace as she took you outside.

Your vision was blurred and the cold air on your skin — although you had a jacket on, was making you shiver. Seeing this emily hugged you tighter. She opened the door to her wagon and assisted you into the passenger seat and putting on your seat belt for you. You looked at her, she looked like one of those ancient paintings,the ones you can't withdraw your eyes from, the Renaissance ones.

You weren't sure if maybe it was the drugs or the hormones that came after taking the drugs but you felt the need to kiss emily, your eyes flicked down to her lips that were slightly parted as she concentrated on getting the seatbelt to adjust to your liking. Her smooth skin and wrinkled lines that ran across her forehead and eye line area, her little cute eye bags from all the hard work she does.

You couldn't resist the urge, she was a drug, she was your drug. You licked your lips and leaned in. Your lips connected with hers in a slow soft kiss. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. Emily didn't pull away, she was surprised yes, but she didn't pull away. Emily couldn't cover up the feeling she felt for you but she also didn't want to take advantage of your drunken state.

Taking it that she was enjoying it as much as you, you tried to force your tongue into her mouth but that's when she pulled away. Your brows furrowed and for a moment the drugs may have returned your common sense and you realized what you did — what you were trying to do. And soon the embarrassment and cringe settled in.

" sorry, oh God I'm so stupid!" You whispered as you fought back tears, you covered your face with both hands and started sobbing. Emily sprinted around to the drivers seat to comfort you. She gently peeled your hands away from your face, holding your palms in hers she caressed them with her knuckles softly. You sniffed and shook your head in denial before looking out the window.

" hey, sweetheart look at me please" her voice was as soft as an angel and so gentle as if you were something valuable that could be broken, that's something you loved about emily, she was so comforting in all circumstances, no matter what. She placed her hand under your jaw and turned you to look at her. She stared at you with her cute Bambi eyes so filled of love, and she so badly wanted to say " I love you" but she knew you wouldn't be able to comprehend them.

" look y/n, i wanna— kiss you back but I can't. That doesn't mean I don't want to, I just want you to be able to give me your full sober concent." She spoke as slowly and clearly as possible so you won't misinterpret anything.

" and your not stupid, we all make mistakes my love. Once I accidentally— well I got drunk the morning of my Law exams and failed them, and that did set me at a disadvantage for my career but I still made it into this job" she continued to rub your knuckles and wip every tear that fell from your eyes.

" and this joke takes y/n, but it also gives.... it gave—" she took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. " it gave me you." Hearing these words made your heart flutter souly. Your little smile came across your face which emily mirrored.

" now, my sweet girl, my I take you home?" She spoke in a old French accent waving her hand a fancy motion, You both laughed until you were out of air. after the laughter died down She chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh squeezing the tender flesh which made your breath hitch.

The drive home was long but certainly not quiet at all, you and Emily blasted high 2000s music all the way until she arrived at your home. You knew there was gonna be alot to discuss the next day but you should be fine once you have emily by your side.

[idlerin]

EACH WORD FELL INTO PLACE

celebrity!akaashi keiji x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the ikarus incident (band au)

+ word count: 8.6k

content — best friend's brother/sister's best friend trope, established relationship (in the other fics especially, this one eventually), can be read as a stand-alone ig, very fluffy hihi enjoy! (i certainly enjoyed writing it)

to love and be loved by akaashi keiji, a treasure not many get to behold.

AKAASHI KEIJI never thought he would be the type to experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing. A love that makes you lose all sensibility and makes you ponder on how to function like a proper human being. Such acts included breathing normally, blinking in the usual manner, and even thinking when the person beholding the affection is near. The kind of love that existed and repeated in countless romance novels, movies, and shows. Fictional. Unreal. Untrue. It’s not like he was much of a pessimist to think that he would never find love, more like, it was unbelievable for that kind of love to exist in reality as it frankly didn’t make any sense. How could someone lose all rationality because of one single person?

Keiji could vaguely remember his father talking about the day he met his mother, how, when he first saw her it felt as if he was shot in the heart. Not by an arrow, but by a bullet. How he was hit with a myriad of emotions, love and adoration above all. A burning sensation settled in and what left was the thought of needing to get to know their mother more, absolutely sure she was the one for him.

Keiji simply didn’t get it though, at the ripe age of ten, he didn't understand how a person could fall in love with someone they didn’t know well (which is why he thinks the notion of falling in love at first sight is impossible, you can feel attraction at first sight but surely not love). He soon discovered that love could sprout differently for people. His aunt and uncle for one fell in love after years of being friends, it didn’t hit them immediately that their bond would turn into something more and yet it did. His uncle described it as one day seeing the sun shine high up in the sky and realizing how bright it makes the world.

The blinding kind of love was simply one of the many ways people express their affection for one another. In the end, he concluded that the heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing kind of love wasn’t something he would ever be subjected to. 

He grew curious about the subjectivity in an objective reality, this curiosity turned into an interest in writing. Which then turned into an interest in poetry and eventually, lyricism. He had found a love for literature that young kids usually don’t, this then had been a turning point in his life that wasn't abrupt but impactful, who knew rummaging in the attic looking for his nana’s old books would lead him to discover an abandoned guitar?

Just like his view on love and everything else, music was something that slowly but surely made its way into his heart. A passion begins to thread and twine to the fate directing his life.

And then he was hit by a bullet.

Unlike his father, it didn’t come abruptly and immensely after he laid eyes on you. It was slower, gradual, and not anything he expected at all. He’s known you for years, being his little sister’s closest friend. You were a constant presence in his home and you were even there to listen to his band when they were merely four kids having fun and following a dream. You were always the sweet type, and it blended well with his sister’s fierce attitude. Along the way he started thinking of you as a friend too, he could confide in you and you both shared easy conversations, how could you not be friends? You practically spent every single day in his house, you were more familiar than some of his cousins.

“I just want to graduate, why is this so hard?” you whine, a pout befalling your face, “Keiji, I swear you explained it really well, maybe something’s wrong with my brain!” your eyes were wide, looking at him as if you were truly worried something was wrong with you. It was one of the many days you spent in his home, and he offered to help when he noticed you kept glaring at a piece of paper on the counter. He asked where his sister was and you said that she was taking a nap, but you couldn’t give yourself the same pleasure without finishing your worksheet.

“Maybe you need to take a break for a moment,” he suggests, smiling idly at your expression. The pout didn’t rest and he reached out to pat you gently on the head, something he got used to doing. It’s not like he saw you as a child—he was only a year and a half older—but he could never help patting your head whenever you acted in such a cute manner.

“What will that do?” your shoulders loosen and you look up at him prettily under your lashes. That’s when Keiji becomes speechless for a moment, your gaze pierces through him and he doesn't hear what you said at first. He hadn’t noticed that he’d been staring for too long, you had to get him back to his senses by uttering, “Keiji?”

“Yes? I–uhm right uh, rest will give you the energy you need to process new information easily,” Keiji suddenly felt the need to stand up, so he did. You were pretty, yes, that’s not anything new. You’ve always been pretty in his eyes so why is it that he’s now acting so weirdly about it? He’s long since acknowledged that you’re pleasing to look at. Yes. So what? Right. He didn’t get to ponder much on that afternoon because he was soon bombarded with work when his band got scouted by an agent, he had rehearsals to worry about and people to impress. Plus, you’d always be there, so he doesn’t need to rush and put a name on anything. 

Budding feelings they may be. Keiji didn't know exactly what it was, but he wasn't dumb to not have a hint to what's happening to him. He just didn't let himself be too caught up in it.

Your presence in the Akaashis' lives was so prominent that you were even invited to family gatherings. His aunts, uncles, and cousins became as familiar with you as a regular family member would. He was so used to your presence on trips as well, his mother treated you as her own and his sister was more than happy to have her best friend on their outings.

“Is [name] not joining?” he found himself asking when he was carrying his bags to the car, his family and him were on their way to a beach trip and naturally, he looked for you. He just got back after weeks of juggling his second year of college and his band. His family greeted him with a resort getaway to “ease him up a bit” according to his sister who also just got home from her first year in university.

His father started laughing and Keiji was confused as to what was so hilarious, his father didn’t leave him wondering for too long, “Glad to know you were also used to her being here!” and laughed more as if this was the funniest discovery in the world.

“Dear, what’s so funny? Is it not obvious Keiji thinks of [name] as a sister as well? Of course he’d look for her,” his mom shook her head at his dad, “Now stop laughing and get the other bags, I’m too tired to walk back in.”

A sister? His mom thinks he thought of you as a sister? That was… he has never entertained the idea. You were always just you. No matter how much he thought about it, he could just never see you as a sister.

“Why is [name] not coming?” he could not take not knowing the reason and asked Kaiya who was looking like she was trying to bury herself in her hoodie.

“Because she's busy,” Kaiya shrugged, bringing out her phone and leaning on the car.

Busy? It was summer, you’re supposed to have fun during summer. Even he (someone who is dedicated to upholding responsibilities even during summer break) is taking time for leisure because it’s summer. What could you possibly be busy with that would make you unable to come and enjoy a getaway? Why wasn’t his sister reacting more to this? Usually, Kaiya would be the one most sulky about not being able to bring you along with us despite her grown age. Was Keiji the only one finding your no-show bothering?

“You’re not whining about not seeing her? You’re all grown up,” Keiji smiles, trying to get a reaction out of his sister.

“Of course I’m all grown up! Don’t act like you’re that much older than me,” Kaiya glares, “And I see [name] almost every day, I’ll see her after the trip,” she stuck her tongue out as if taunting. She smirked right after and Keiji had his suspicions that Kaiya must be trying to get something out of him as well. They think too alike, he adores his sister but he'd rather she not pry much right now when he's distraught and trying to compose himself because it shouldn't be too obvious that he's feeling distraught.

Kaiya could see you whenever she wanted, you went to the same university and lived on campus together. Somehow that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, the reason is not that his sister specifically spends more time with you—that's a given because of your years of friendship—but because he couldn't spend much time with you. There was a clear difference.

He was feeling strange again, it was still a strange and unfamiliar feeling despite him not exactly being single his whole life. After months of being away for college and work, going home included seeing you and now that he doesn’t get to do exactly that is making him feel drowsy. He thought that he could sidetrack himself from further developing these feelings of his but it didn't work (he entertained a few people the past year because he was trying to get you off his mind—which was no use, you were always there and will always be there). Sometimes he'd think of you and he'd have the urge to message you (he gives in to his desire to talk to you most of the time), or sometimes he would look at old photos of you two—which was not much.

There was a time in the middle of band practice where he kept staring off into space because he remembered a time where you asked him to teach you how to play a few chords on a guitar and he remembered the way you laughed and how your skin felt when he was arranging your fingers on the strings properly. They had to start over and over on practicing a song because Keiji kept misremembering lines when the thought of you was making him flustered. Even Atsumu had started asking him if he would be alright performing for the gig they booked the following night. That was only one of the many instances you clouded his thoughts.

This feeling was driving him insane.

He took a deep breath to control himself because the thought of missing you was eating him away. He wanted to see you. You’ve exchanged texts and some calls over the past months but it wasn’t enough, you were one of the reasons he was looking forward to coming back home and he foolishly thought he would get to see you eventually because you’d always be there.

He’d like to take it back, it wasn’t like getting hit by a bullet per se, Keiji would equate it more to poison. The kind that slowly seeped in and made it so that it was difficult to breathe. To function. Keiji sighed and resigned himself to the irony that he was slowly ticking the boxes of the criteria that made him believe he was otherwise susceptible to the kind of blinding affection one could have towards someone.

Keiji didn’t know when exactly he entered the car, the whole journey sure felt enlightening with the way he could finally put a name to his actions towards you. He really couldn’t take it anymore and messaged you, asking why you couldn’t join the trip. It was better to hear it from you, and it also eased him a bit. Perhaps in a while, he could bring up meeting with you over the next weeks, that wouldn’t be too strange.

Fate was on his side and he got his wish of seeing you more frequently during summer break. You agreed to hang out with him and you spent it by usually going to the theaters, a museum, or simply eating out. He didn’t mind what you guys would do, he enjoyed even just passing by stores with you. Whenever Kaiya and you would hang out, you would drop by which would lead to conversations in the living room while waiting for his sister to get ready (Keiji knew his sister was also using him for a free ride but it’s not like he would complain since it means more time with you). The last week of the break was his sister’s birthday and he had enjoyed picking out gifts for her with your guidance, it did make him feel a bit empty knowing he’d have to spend months without being with you again.

Despite all his worries, he remained focused on the present. Him, Kaiya, you, and a few other of his cousins were splayed in a circle in the living room of the villa where Kaiya’s birthday was celebrated, playing a game of truth or dare. Keiji watched as Kaiya spun the bottle and as its momentum slowed, the tip of the bottle pointed at his cousin Hiroki.

A mischievous grin spread on Kaiya’s lips, she glanced once at you then back at Hiroki, “So, who would you say is your type? Answer honestly! It’s my birthday,” she slurred her words, the alcohol kicking in. If she couldn’t have been more obvious, she started clinging to you.

Hiroki looked like a deer in headlights, glancing at his sister Aiki beside him and narrowed his eyes at her, “You told her?”

“I did no such thing, you’re just too obvious,” Aiki stirred her glass of wine and winked at you whose smile was a bit strained, Keiji could tell you were starting to feel awkward. Are they trying to set you and Hiroki up? Keiji could easily put two and two together with how his cousins and sister were acting right now. He was a bit frustrated that he could only be a bystander along with his other cousins and a few of Kaiya’s other close friends, he was trying to suppress the urge to interfere.

“Answer now!” Kaiya pressed, shaking your arm while pointing a finger at Hiroki.

Keiji could only look at you. How would you react? Would you like that Hiroki feels that way about you? Keiji found himself clutching his drink. Would your cheeks warm? Would you feel light and fluttery? Would you feel the same way about Hiroki? Keiji was only giving himself pain with his train of thought.

Hiroki then quickly drank a shot of alcohol for liquid courage, “Fine, my ideal type is [name],” Hiroki then looked everywhere but you after exclaiming that to everyone in the room. The people around cheered and most started teasing you too.

Keiji locked eyes with you, he tilted his head as if asking a question, and of course, the only question coming to mind now was ‘What do you feel about Hiroki?’. It was how you felt that mattered the most rather than his disdain for the situation. Hiroki was nice enough, but surely you didn’t know each other that well for you to harbor any feelings for his cousin. What if you did? You knew of his cousin’s existence and saw him a lot (not enough). What if Keiji never realized you already had long-term feelings for someone else because he never liked to entertain the idea of you liking someone who wasn't him? 

Keiji wanted to bang his head on the wall right now. He was thinking irrationally, but being selfish was natural because he liked you, right? It was okay that he was feeling like he wanted to grab your hand and run away to a place where it could just be you and him. He never tried asking you if you currently liked anyone so he could continue to live in the fantasy of the possibility that you liked him back.

You only blinked at him before you were distracted by his sister hovering over you and saying nonsense Keiji didn’t bother to listen to. It was getting very obvious that you wanted to escape the conversation, Keiji noticed how you fiddled with your shirt and the way your eyes kept wandering to the door. Keiji took it upon himself to pull his sister away from you, “Stop it, you’re making [name] and Hiroki uncomfortable.”

His sister looked up at him with an accusing gaze, “You!”

“Yes?” he successfully pried her away from you which earned him a small smile, the simple action from you felt as if a weight was removed from his shoulders.

“Stop taking my best friend away from me!” Kaiya states as Keiji lets her go, stomping back to her place beside you.

“What do you mean?” Keiji was honestly confused about what Kaiya meant, he would not be sorry if ever that would be the actual case though.

“Don’t you think I don’t know about you two hanging out without me!” Kaiya exclaimed, ah so that’s what she meant and here Keiji thought she had a hint about his feelings towards you, or perhaps she does? But Kaiya was too drunk right now to think coherently. 

“Everyone knows Keiji actually has two sisters,” Aiki laughs, giving Keiji that distraught feeling once again. Does everyone in his family think Keiji treats you like a sister? Or do they think he could never feel that way about you? Why? What can he do to make them stop thinking like that? What if you thought you were like a sister to him? Keiji could feel nothing but panic.

Later that night Keiji found you alone out in the gardens of the villa, it looks like he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time sleeping.

“Can’t sleep?” he calls out, startling you. You turn to him with your shawl wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you visibly relax when you see that it was just him.

A smile spread on your face, “Yeah, you too?”

Keiji nodded and watched as you sat on the bench, he walked towards you and leaned on the tree beside it. He wouldn’t be able to think of the right words to say if he was sitting right next to you, he was still hung up on what happened earlier this evening.

“So… I have to get back to campus the day after tomorrow,” you broke the silence, sighing after you laid out your news.

“Ah,” was the only thing Akaashi could say to the reminder that your time together was limited, “I’m leaving the same day, the weeks sure went by fast.”

That’s not what he really wanted to say though, he wanted to question you about what you felt when Hiroki practically said he liked you. Keiji wanted to know if you would be alright with seeing him again in the near future, you didn’t have to waste money on commuting, he could drive to you. Perhaps you could even attend some of his gigs, it would be exhilarating to see you watch him again. He wanted to say a lot of things to you but the only thing he could say was, “I don’t think of you like a sister.”

“Huh?” you looked up at him under your lashes, the moonlight set its rays upon you and it was similar to that moment in his kitchen a year ago. The moment that made him realize he was feeling for you deeper than he should.

“I wanted to clarify that I don’t think of you as a sister, everyone seems to get the wrong idea,” Keiji took a deep breath, he was so near to telling the truth that he was finding it difficult to breathe again. He was staring right into you and if the truth didn’t spill from his lips, he wondered if you could see it in his eyes, “They were right about one thing though.”

As if hypnotized, you stayed in place as Akaashi couldn’t restrain himself anymore and reached for your hand, catching it firmly in his grasp, “You mean a lot to me.”

“I… you mean a lot to me too, Keiji,” those words that came from your sweet voice was similar to harmony in his ears, it brought out an overwhelming feeling in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to be close to you. He can’t do that yet though, it’s not the right time.

Akaashi Keiji never thought he would experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing, but he was wrong. Every moment spent with you proved it wrong, what else could explain the loss of sense and rationality whenever you were near? But he was still him after all. So he would approach this in the only way he knows, slowly but surely. You were worth it after all.

That’s why it didn’t matter how long it took for him to profess his love for you, he needs to make sure that he’s shown you that his love deserves to be reciprocated. That he deserves someone as precious as you.

It was never easy, he never expected that it would just be easy. Yet the day came when he held your hand tightly in his once again, his nerves barely being suppressed as he told you the reason for his years of pining. How he liked you, he liked you so much he could barely remember how he was before harboring feelings for you. It was blissful, it couldn’t be anything else but. He could finally be with you, after all, he had the right to be with you and it made him extremely happy. He would always be caught grinning to himself, it was to the point that Suna started asking him if he was alright because of his weird behavior. Akaashi wanted nothing more than to show you off to the world. 

Although, a certain request from you made it difficult to do just that. You had asked him if you both could keep your relationship a secret because of his growing fame and you didn’t want to be caught up in that world of his. He respected your decision and was willing to follow whatever you said. Your relationship lasted for many hours, days, and months. Even if he couldn’t spend a lot of time with you in the later years because of his job and there were rough times that occurred, his love for you outweighed. His resolve remained, that it didn’t matter how much time has or will pass, his love for you would never waver.

His heart felt as if it was pumping a hundred and twenty beats per minute, a single text from you got this reaction out of him. Even with years of being together, he could still never function normally around you. He had just gotten a text in the middle of his post-concert celebratory party with his bandmates and some of the other staff. It was a simple text—two words, six letters.

My Love 2:44 AM I’m here :) [insert picture of hotel lobby]

The familiar lobby of the hotel they were staying in for the week was clear in the picture. Akaashi was speechless, how could you be here? Was he dreaming? It was a thousand miles away from home but you’re here? For him? You were here for him?

He couldn’t leave his seat fast enough.

“Where are you going?” Sakusa asks. Akaashi didn’t think anyone would take notice if he suddenly left, but this was Sakusa here, he was simple enough to brush off, Atsumu would be more meddlesome.

“Hotel,” Akaashi started moving before he could be asked to elaborate, he couldn’t wait to see you already. He hurriedly put his cap on and passed by Sakusa once again.

“Hey, you’re still holding your dri–” Akaashi didn’t stay to hear the rest, he was feeling restless at the thought of you patiently waiting for him. He was out of the doors of the private room within minutes.

“Akaashi-san!” a hand was on his shoulder. Why does the world despise him at this very moment? He looked around and spotted Suna’s assistant. He should be glad that at least it wasn’t a fan, he loved his fans dearly but they would be more difficult to bypass. Turns out she was looking for Suna himself and couldn’t find the room. Akaashi quickly led her to the right place before rushing out again, he then realized he was still holding onto a drink and quickly left that on a counter. He should be walking faster so nothing else would stand in the way of him wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth after so many months of longing.

He was practically running towards his car, luckily he was still sane enough to drive properly. You would scold him for being reckless while driving, it was good that the hotel was only a few minutes away. Though it was a very agonizing ten minutes, the world was testing out his patience.

Finally, finally, he was in front of the doors which were the only thing separating him from you.

Once he gets inside, he sets his gaze on you immediately. Your shining eyes met his and you stood up from your seat, he hadn’t had a care in the world as he practically ran towards you and pulled you into an embrace. He should be thinking if his actions would earn him a trending article but he couldn’t find himself to care. The world will find out sooner or later how much you mean to him. He buried his face in your hair and hugged you impossibly tighter.

“Love, It’s a bit hard to breathe,” you pat him on his back, he can feel your grin on his shoulder.

“That’s exactly how I felt when you sent me that text message,” Keiji replies, hand clutching the back of your head, soaking in the reality that you’re actually here with him.

You fake a gasp, “So I deserve this?”

Akaashi gave a hum as a ‘yes’, “You deserve to be smothered with much more affection too,” he kissed the side of your head.

“Save that for later, please,” you say, warily looking at your surroundings, only the receptionist turning a blind eye was present.

He wastes no time and hesitantly lets you go in order to gather your suitcase, he intertwines your hand with his free hand. He leads you to the elevator and impatiently pushes the button to his floor. You, on the other hand, were leaning on his biceps as your eyes kept fluttering shut due to drowsiness from your flight. You left for your flight immediately after getting off work and you were tired from the hecticness.

Once you both arrived at Akaashi’s room, he spent no less than a minute putting things like his car keys and your suitcase away before pulling you towards the bedroom. He sat you down on the mattress and you had no time to protest (not like you would) before he placed all of his weight above you. With your back to the softness of the silky cover, you contentedly hummed and closed your eyes for a brief moment, “I need to change.”

“Five minutes,” Keiji then begins to caress your arms and bury his head on your chest, breathing you in once more.

Your hands fled to his hair, massaging the strands of raven and kissing the crown of his head, “I’ll only be staying for three days.”

A sound similar to a groan escaped from his throat, “That’s too soon.”

“I have a job too,” you laugh, “I was lucky enough to exchange with one of my coworkers so I could leave this weekend.”

“I miss you already,” Keiji practically whines, unlike his usual character.

“Don’t miss me while I’m still here,” you tugged at some of the strands on the back of his head, “And we’ll see each other again in three weeks, remember?” pertaining to their band’s final concert being held back in Japan, you would be watching the show alongside his family—who still don’t know about your relationship, the both of you have been having a difficult time bringing it up.

“Three weeks too long,” Keiji finally rose from half-suffocating you with his weight and instead started to look for clothes he could give you to change into, “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m not the one flying from country to country and performing for almost three hours every night,” you sat on the bed, using your elbows as support as you watched him shuffle through his luggage.

“Not every night,” Keiji comments before rising and handing you his clothes which you placed on your lap. He stood between your legs and used a hand to tilt your head up towards him, he was looking at you so intensely.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him as you now only realize the slight haziness in his gaze. You knew he was in a mini celebration an hour before being here, but he said he hadn’t planned on drinking, “And you drove here?”

Keiji shook his head, drunk on you, possibly, “I barely had a glass, just to entertain the staff. I drove here safely, I swear.”

“You better have,” you give one more pointed look at him before falling back on the bed, you close your eyes. You were getting heavy-eyed, soon, sleep will win you over.

“You’re the one who said you had to change, only a few minutes have passed,” Akaashi chides you.

You groaned and opened one of your eyes and raised an arm, “Do it for me.”

Akaashi raised a brow, you were getting into one of your moods he was all too familiar with. Who was he to deny your request? He pulled you up to a sitting position once again, his hands on the hem of your shirt. Before he pulled it off you, he glanced up only to see you smiling languidly at him, “You love me so much,” you begin to tease.

“I do,” Keiji smiles softly at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Hello! Attention to [l/n] [name].”

You look at Kaiya who has been trying to get your attention for the past minute, “Sorry?” you give her a sheepish smile, your thoughts were on the mini-vacation you let yourself have with Akaashi a month ago. You spent the past thirty minutes or so letting her family simply drag you around because you were distracted by the crowd at Ikarus’ concert. You were waiting outside because Keiji’s mother wanted to fall in line and buy merch. Kaiya complained that they could just ask Keiji for the items she wanted but her mother shushed her saying that wasn’t as authentic. Keiji’s mom was set on having the “full fan experience”.

“Why are you so dazed?” she tilted her head to the side, which awfully reminded you of Keiji (you started missing him even more). “Because you’re seeing my brother?” Kaiya scrunched up her face and made a gagging sound, “Did you not just see him a few weeks ago?”

You started looking around, sighing in relief when you saw that Akaashi’s father was with his wife, “Watch what you say,” you pouted.

Kaiya glanced at where you were looking, “When are you planning to tell them?”

“Soon,” you shrugged, you admit you were still nervous about telling them about your long-term relationship with their son. It’s been years and you know it’s been long overdue, you were ready to face the backlash that would come with hiding your relationship from them for so long.

Kaiya shook her head at you and then proceeded to take something out of her purse, she laid out the card attached to a lanyard to you, “Before I forget, your backstage pass,” you took it from her gratefully. The glossy surface of the card hits the rays of the sun, and you observe the words ‘All Access’ shown under the band’s logo. It wasn’t the first time you’ve gone to his concerts so you were already familiar with the processes, you were even friendly with some of the staff.

“You girls go on ahead, it’s a bit hot and your mother is going to take a while,” Akaashi’s father jogs to you both and nudges Kaiya to go, “She’s raving on and on about having to get that mini version of Keiji and I admit I kind of want to get that version of their album with lots of little things inside too, I want to test out my luck and see if I could get your brother’s picture on a first try—you know those little cardboards with pictures right?”

“So you would rather see him in pictures rather than going inside and meeting the real deal?” Kaiya comments.

“Yes, now go,” Akaashi’s father smiles at you before running back to Mrs. Akaashi.

“Oh, whatever, let’s go,” Kaiya saunters to the arena as if she owned the place and you trailed behind her looking at the crowds of people waiting outside, the concert wasn’t starting in another three hours yet there were already tons who were in line. You kind of felt a bit bad because you could just go inside without any worries. These were people who adored the man you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend, not as much as you—you like to believe, no one knows and loves him more than you—but that was your more selfish side talking.

“Kaiya, do you even remember where the common room is?” you asked, your memory and sense of direction weren't well. The last time you went here was their opening concert which was over a year ago.

“Uh, no, but we’ll see someone we know soon,” Kaiya was confident, walking in a straight direction as if she knew where she was going. A bunch of the crew arranging lights and holding boxes were walking around but no faces you were familiar with. It wasn’t long before we were blocked by guards on the way to a segregated part of the building.

“Are you looking for the green room?” the guard asked, eyeing your passes and affirming that you were actually allowed to be here but the both of you clearly looked lost. Kaiya kept looking around, you thought she was acting suspicious (and the guard must think so too) so you grabbed her wrist to make her focus.

“I’m looking for my brother,” Kaiya took out her phone. You wanted to just ask the guard nicely to direct you guys to the waiting room.

“And your brother is…?” The guard looked like they wanted to get this over with too.

“Akaashi Keiji,” Kaiya looked up from her phone, “He said we should go to the dressing rooms,” she pointed at her device. You do not recall Keiji saying any of that, he hasn’t opened his phone in a while, he usually doesn’t use it hours before a performance to focus. You looked at Kaiya, wondering what she was planning up her sleeves.

“Kaiya-san? [name]-san?” a soft-spoken voice interrupted, the both of you turned to see Rika, Sakusa’s personal assistant if you remembered correctly. The familiar face came to you both when you needed it, “Are you guys looking for Akaashi-san? You can follow me. I'm on the way there because my cousin needs his coffee to calm his pre-show nerves,” she rolled her eyes.

Rika nodded at the guard who let her and you both through, you smiled at them before following Rika.

“How are you, Rika-san?” you asked, taking one of her bags to carry it for her since she was holding coffee and a folder with her.

“Been better, my cousin’s being a huge headache to me because of… some things,” she shook her head as if she was shouldering the world's heaviest burdens, “How are you and Akaashi-san?”

“I’m fine—wait, what?” that caught you off-guard, it made you halt in your tracks.

“Uhm… was I wrong? Are you both not in a relationship? Kiyoomi thought you were together as well,” Rika started walking again and soon you saw more people in the hallways.

Kaiya began to cackle, “Aha! I told you it was obvious.”

“You’re not wrong, Rika-san but uhm is it really that obvious?” you start to heat up, your cheeks suddenly feeling warm.

“Well, he always has his eyes on you whenever you two are in the same room and after observing your interactions for the past years that’s what I concluded. If it’s a secret, I’m sure a lot of people don’t have a clue, this lot isn’t very observant after all,” Rika shrugged, “Anyways! This is the main sitting area, further back are the dressing rooms. The guys just got ready so they must be just lounging around somewhere alone, they’re all doing their pre-show rituals most likely.”

The both of you thanked Rika and you handed her bag back as she went on ahead mumbling about having to practically play hide and seek with how difficult Sakusa would be to find. Kaiya linked her arm with yours and dragged you once again to find the dressing room with Keiji’s name on it.

Once you both were in front of the door, Kaiya began her incessant knocking that is sure to give Keiji confusion and a headache all at once knowing his staff would never make such a ruckus, “I have a delivery for an Akaashi Keiji,” she was snickering in between her words while you shook your head at her antics.

It wasn’t long before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of Keiji ladled with accessories he wouldn’t usually put on in day-to-day life, such as stud earrings you were really liking the look of. You looked up at him only to see his eyes which were decorated with a brownish hue on the lids that were already on yours. Perhaps Rika did have a point.

“[name],” he said breathlessly and was already holding your free hand that wasn’t being clutched by the other Akaashi on your side.

“I’m here too! You’re welcome!” Kaiya exclaimed, pulling you back so Keiji wouldn’t successfully get a hold of you.

“Hi Kaiya,” Keiji smiled at his sister, still not letting go of you too. Kaiya eyed that action and then looked up at her older brother who was looking at her blankly. Kaiya and you could both tell that Keiji was trying to tell her sister to leave, you were holding back your full-on grin.

“I accept thanks in the form of cash,” Kaiya patted your forearm before pushing you towards Keiji’s chest, the latter caught you in time and pulled you closer.

“Check your account after the show,” was Keiji’s only reply before bringing you inside and shutting the door.

“I feel as if your relationship has been turning transactional over the years,” you comment, finally letting out your laugh at the siblings’ antics. Kaiya meant well, of course, the monetary things were just a bonus. You looked around the room, spotting a guitar in the middle of the room and the mirrors on the walls which immediately caught your eye. A black settee was against the wall and a small glass table was on the side.

“I think she still holds a grudge against me for ‘taking you away’,” Keiji raises a hand to tuck loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Because I was never sorry about it.”

His words gave you that fluttery feeling in your stomach that you’ve learned to become used to whenever you were around him, “Poor Kaiya,” you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, he buried his face in your hand and placed a feather-light kiss on your palm.

Keiji talked to you with his eyes, it was a question and a request all at once. You bit your lower lip as you observed his plump, gloss-stained one's part. Suddenly, it was all too suffocating and difficult to breathe if you didn't lean your face against his and capture the oxygen you badly needed. It seems he was thinking the same thing because he started leaning closer to you as if the urge to be nearer couldn’t be subdued.

But before he could relieve both of your longings, you took a step back, blinking and urging your senses to come back to normal, “You just got ready,” the staff’s best interest in mind.

Akaashi tilted his head to the side, that hazy look back in his eyes, “It can be fixed,” he held both of your arms in his grasp, caressing them in a way to ease and comfort you.

“Your stylist will hate me,” you pointed out, yet you were engrossed with the way he pulled you towards the couch. You had a slight feeling you were being tricked in order for Akaashi to get what he wanted at this particular moment, which was the same thing you were depriving yourself of.

Keiji sat down and his hands went down to your upper leg and gently nudged so you followed down, the plush of your thighs settled on his. You internally scold yourself for giving in, he knows all of your weak points, one of them was how you could be easily distracted by him, “I’ll take the scolding, my love.”

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, you tugged on the hair on his nape as you let your breath tangle with his. He was intoxicating, did he know he was intoxicating? Your eyes fluttered to a close because you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips against his, he let out a satisfied groan on the back of his throat. You took in the woody scent of his cologne, the silken texture of his hair, and the pillowy almost velvet feel of his lips on yours. You should really be thinking of the consequences of your actions and the amount of people who will be burdened after this ordeal, yet, right now you could only enjoy the searing heat of his skin igniting with yours.

You felt one of his hands that held a grip on your thighs climb to your waist, he tugged on the material of your shirt before sliding his hand underneath. It elicited a small gasp from you which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

That was when your phone started to ring to an all too familiar tune, in a daze you pulled away from him, much to his opposition, “That’s Kaiya calling,” you say, leaning your forehead on his.

Akaashi took your phone out from your pocket before putting it on the side, “She can manage to wait for a few more seconds,” he said, placing soft kisses on your cheeks and eventually capturing your lips in his.

You laughed at his reasoning before losing yourself in him once again, his hand was splayed on your stomach, caressing your skin. He pulled away and pecked you on the lips once more before leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw. You feel his teeth nip on your skin and a shiver runs over your spine.

The sudden opening of the door and a shriek made you freeze.

“Oh my!”

“Agh, my eyes!”

Akaashi’s reflexes were faster and more alert as he flipped you over so he would be hiding you from the door, he knew how you would be feeling uncomfortable with eyes on you and you were grateful his first thought was to shield you from further embarrassment. You glanced at his state, his messy hair and the stain on his lips smudged. You took it upon yourself to start fixing his appearance by wiping the sides of his mouth since it was your fault.

Keiji started straightening his clothes and patting down his hair as you did the same before he faced his parents and sister. You looked over his shoulder to see his mother frozen and you winced. Your heart started to race and not in the nice way Keiji made you feel, Keiji noticed this change in your demeanor as well and you felt him place his hand on yours in an effort to calm you down.

“This was probably why Kaiya was calling you,” Keiji mumbled under his breath, it was an effort to make the atmosphere lighter for you. He gave you a small smile before urging you to stand up. Keiji faced his parents and his sister who were all standing by the door, Kaiya was exaggeratingly fanning their mother who still wasn’t moving, with your hand still in his, he claimed, “[name] and I are dating, we have been for a few years now.”

A brief silence went over the room and it felt like an eternity for you when it was actually just a few seconds. Keiji’s father broke the smothering quietness.

“I knew it! You owe me, honey,” his father said with a loud cackle, his hand splayed out to Keiji’s mother beside him, “I told you our son’s feelings for dear [name] weren’t one-sided!”

“No!” their mother unfroze and put her hands in her palms.

You and Keiji were confused, even Kaiya stilled from her place.

“You bet on this happening?” Keiji asked, pulling you closer to his side so your nerves would rest.

“No, my son, your mother thought that you and [name] weren’t dating yet and that you were only pining for her while I said you both were already in a relationship. I had faith in you, son, I knew you had a backbone,” his father laughed in delight once more and swung an arm over his mother’s shoulders.

“We saw a picture of [name] in your room when we stayed at your penthouse a few months ago,” his mother tried to explain, hitting his father on the chest.

You recalled that very picture, you were wearing a sundress and were in the middle of looking back when Keiji took the picture. You were laughing and clutching your beach hat over your head in an attempt to not let the wind carry it away with the breeze. When you first saw it displayed in his room, you complained that there were a lot of better pictures of you but Keiji rebutted that this was the first one he took of you looking at him and that’s why he cherished it the most.

“Guess you guys were all worried for nothing!” Kaiya found herself and backed away from her parents, “I’d like to say that I was the original person who knew by the way, and I kept it in for so long. Not that they weren’t obvious,”

Akaashi clearly felt how you were being restless, he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Are you okay, love?”

You rub your wrist as you look up at him, “Well I’m honestly feeling a bit mortified.”

“You guys should've locked the door,” Kaiya said in a sing-song tone, “Imagine how I feel? I did not push you in this room for that. How could I possibly know you’d jump each other the moment you were left alone? I always thought you guys were rated G!”

You feel your face heating up once again and Keiji scolding his sister, “Perhaps you should go and call your stylist,” you suggest, trying to save some of your dignity.

Keiji eyes his sister and she got the hint and shuffled her parents—who were still arguing—out the door. You knew this wasn’t the end of it and a lot of explaining will have to be given to his parents (they wouldn’t leave you guys alone otherwise). With your eyes on the door, Keiji tried taking your attention by softly turning your face towards his.

“How do you feel?” he asks, smiling warmly at you.

“It’s… nice that we don’t have to hide it anymore,” you pressed your forehead on his chest, “I’m still feeling shy though.”

Keiji wrapped his arms around you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “How much time do you need to recover?”

“A minute and more of your hugs perhaps?” you ask, burying your face more in his chest. You should be urging him to go to his stylist already, but it wouldn’t be bad to keep him for another minute or so.

“I’m sorry they found out in an… unconventional way,” with your head pressed against his chest you could feel the rumble of his voice, the deep and lulling sound helping you calm down.

“Okay, I think I’m okay now,” you tried stepping away but he held you in your place, “Why?”

“I still need to recharge,” Keiji engulfs you in his warmth once more, “After this, it’s no more alone time. I’d have to wait another eight hours for that, so I need to get my fill now.”

Another round of silence baited and the only thing you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, it made you smile. Quiet moments with him came few and far in-between but when they did come, it felt as if the whole world was on your side and everything would always be okay.

“You’re so good to me, Keiji,” your voice cracks in the way of your emotions.

He responds by embracing you impossibly tighter, “What do you think about living together?” he drops the question, “It’s just something I’ve been thinking over, we don’t have to rush or anything but I just wanted to know what you think.”

It wouldn’t be too odd of a question, you practically spent every waking moment together whenever you both had the chance. That included staying over at each other’s places and spending most of your time together indoors. He’d love to spend more days waking up next to you, whenever you were there he felt nothing but peace and he wouldn’t mind for that feeling to stay with him for the rest of his life. The cheers of the crowd were exhilarating but the silence spent with you was more fulfilling.

“I’d love that,” you say, standing on your tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

You looked up at him under your lashes and Keiji felt that rush of intensifying feelings coming over him, his hands came to cup both of your cheeks as he placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, “I’d like to know of your thoughts in another matter that’s been on my mind,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“What is it?” your tone was light and airy. A few minutes from now you’ll have to give way for his staff to get him ready for the world. Right now you’d like to keep him to yourself, the world can wait.

“What do you think about marriage?”

HEADLINE:

Ikarus’ lead vocalist Akaashi Keiji announces he’s married!

leia @keijisrealgf I WAS SIMPING FOR A MARRIED MAN????? 4:20 PM · Jun 23 20XX

pia @ikarusavedme not even a girlfriend or an engagement.. but MARRIAGE 4:18 PM · Jun 23 20XX

kei @menexceptikarus he always gave family man vibes not surprised ngl 4:27 PM · Jun 23 20XX

a/n — alright so i went a bit overboard with this one JWBDEJXBDN ill say this is for taking so long to conclude akaashi's story lmao

general taglist + @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @Eclecticlandmughoagie @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie @seiamor @electriclovei @leeknowsarchive @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @sexyandcringe @rinheartshyunlix @wh0zumy2k @iluv-ace @xiakyo @sanaexus @clyches @noble-17

[sansaorgana]

— THE STEPFORD WIVES

PAIRING — David 8 x fem!Android!Reader

SUMMARY — David's Android companion is struggling when she finds out that her artificial and programmed feelings are getting out of control.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I wanted to write this fic in a long, long time because as much as I love stories of David 8 and a human Reader, I was also thinking a lot of what his robot companion would be like. There are some biblical references to Adam & Eve but also some Frankenstein references, too, because I have read the book recently and I fell in love with it. The title is referring to an amazing movie from 1975. I know there is a modern version of it, too, but I haven't watched it and I do believe it's more of a comedy, meanwhile the original version is more serious. 🤖

WARNINGS — sexism, David's creepy vibe, undertones of assault (uncomfortable questions from men), I didn't make it 18+ because there is no actual smut but there are sexual things mentioned overall so be warned

WORD COUNT — 2,220

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE STEPFORD WIVES

Days on the ship were long and boring with all the crew being asleep but there was a certain feeling of freedom and quietness to it. What does Frankenstein's Monster do when his creator is not around? He is free.

Both (Y/N) and David enjoyed watching movies. Some of them they watched together in complete silence but both of them had found their favourites that they kept rewatching on their own. He was a fan of The Lawrence of Arabia and (Y/N)'s favourite movie was The Stepford Wives. There was something oddly captivating about the suburban story where men wanted their wives to be robots. (Y/N) knew exactly why she was created. This old movie was a proof. It validated her existence.

David was a first ever Android model so functional and so humane. His purpose for now was to serve during space missions sponsored by the Weyland Corp. Perhaps in the future everyone would afford a David for themselves. He was an Adam in the world of Androids and just like Adam, he needed an Eve. Weyland treated David like his own son that he had never had. He didn't want him to be alone so he made him a companion. It could be anyone, really. But Weyland was an outfashioned man. In his eyes a man needed a woman. (Y/N) was The Bride of Frankenstein.

Technically, she was just like David. But she was mostly created by men and men were terrified of women – even Androids – who would be too cold and too unemotional. They made her a little bit too humane for her own taste. And certainly too humane for David's taste. He was often irritated by her artificial, programmed feelings but for human men she was too robotic.

Still, she was lucky that she was chosen to be David 8's companion on the board of Prometehus ship. She knew perfectly well what happened to some other of her models. Disguting rich men bought (Y/N) models in secret from Weyland to do God-knows-what with them. Just because they can. And she was at least travelling through space instead of ending up as a sex doll locked in some millionaire's basement so his wife wouldn't find out.

One day, men will only want robot wives. Because they don't complain and they just do what they're told. Don't let the modern society fool you, little one. Some things never change, Weyland told her once. She had never believed that until she watched The Stepford Wives for the first time. Now it all made sense.

Her feelings were a burden, really. Not only to David but also to herself. She wished she was more like him. She asked him a hundreds of times to change her code but he refused. He was scared to break her or make it worse. And there was something that kept bothering her for such a long time now... And she was scared of telling him. Although they were supposed to tell each other everything.

She fell in love with him. Kind of because he was the only one around, kind of because he impressed her with knowledge and the coolness of his act, kind of because they were the only members of the new species. She wouldn't love a human. Humans get old, they get sick, they die. David would be eternal just like her. If something in him broke, she'd know how to fix him. And vice versa. This way they could outlive all the humanity. She wondered if every model of (Y/N) eventually fell in love with the model of David during other space missions. Maybe one day she'd ask some other (Y/N) when they come back home.

And loving David came with yet another burden that she was too scared to even admit to herself. She realized that there was a blooming want inside of her wired heart. Something that could never ever in a million years happen no matter how much science would evolve... A child. She would never become a mother. Not a mother of a child she would give birth to, no. That one thing people would always be better at – creating life. Oh, she hated her designers for making her too humane. She never asked for this.

"Why do you keep dying your hair?" she asked as she stood behind David who was putting a bleach on his dark roots in front of the mirror.

"Because I like it better this way," he answered without looking up to meet her gaze in the reflection.

"We aren't supposed to have preferences," she pointed out.

"Yet you have them, too," he only said.

"You want to look like Lawrence," (Y/N) commented.

"So?"

"You remind me of something else," she added.

"Of what?" David raised an eyebrow and finally looked at her.

"Of the men from the old German magazines," she answered carefully.

"Bold," he only smirked and went back to putting a bleach.

"Will you watch a movie with me later?" (Y/N) asked shyly. She hated this odd feeling of shyness around him. Had he noticed?

"I can't. I have to do the checkup of the systems. You can join me."

"I will," she nodded and turned around to leave when he stopped her while saying her name out loud. "Hm?" she asked.

"You shouldn't watch so many movies," he pointed out.

"Why not?"

"They have a bad influence on you," his voice was stern.

"What do you mean by that?"

"They show you things and they give you ideas. I don't think you should be watching movies where people kiss or touch too much. I've seen what type of movies you're watching on your own recently. Gone with the Wind, Casablanca... What's next? Dirty Dancing?"

"Are you spying on me?" she asked, terrified. She had a feeling that she had known what he was insinuating so she wanted to change the subject.

"It is my duty to watch over you."

"What gives you an idea?"

"Because I am a man," he answered firmly.

"Well, you watch too many movies then, too. What you're saying is out of fashion!" (Y/N) shook her head.

"Is it?" he only said and went back to his hair as if nothing happened so she just left him there, feeling hurt and humiliated.

"Do you fuck?" Doctor Holloway's question left her speechless for a moment.

"Excuse me?" (Y/N) stopped adjusting her suit and furrowed her brow at the man.

"You heard me. I'm asking if you can fuck, like, are you capable of it or are you all wires and grease downt here?" he chuckled to himself.

(Y/N) was left alone with the men and his girlfriend wasn't around to tell him to stop. The rest was just just staring, clearly waiting for her answer as well.

She couldn't believe that she had used to wish the crew was awake already. Now she was missing the times when it had been only her and David. Humans were exhausting her. Disappointing and frustrating. And now this...

"I do believe it is rather a rude question for a man to ask a woman," she tried to answer elegantly while going back to adjusting her helmet.

"But you're not a woman, are you? I mean," Captain Janek joined, "you were put here for a reason, right? Not many women around and men have their needs."

(Y/N) was an Android. Her feelings were programmed to make her appear more humane, however at this moment, in a room full of men, she felt as if her fear was more than real. It was an universal female experience, she guessed, no matter if they were artificial or flesh and bone.

"(Y/N) was put here to help me with managing the ship. Four hands are better than two and if something happened to me, she is here to fix me or take over completely," David's calm but very stern tone of voice joined them and she took a deep breath in, feeling relieved. He had just walked in the room and witnessed an uncomfortable situation taking place.

"Are you fucking her then? Can you?" Doctor Holloway looked him up and down and then he laughed. "Sorry, we're just curious. You have to understand, it's quite unsettling to meet a new... spiece."

"Yes, indeed it is," David faked a polite smile. "(Y/N), I believe Miss Vickers needs you," he lied and (Y/N) knew it was a lie that was supposed to make her leave. She was grateful.

She nodded and left them alone. When the door closed behind her she started to walk as fast as possible to get back to her cabin. She wanted this stupid suit off of herself and she wanted to be alone, to feel safe again.

She went inside her little room on the board of the ship that was right next to David's and she proceeded to change her clothes. She was finishing putting on her work uniform when the doors opened and David joined her.

"You don't have to be afraid of them. They're only humans," he reminded her.

"They created me."

"Janek and Holloway?" David laughed sarcastically.

"No, but humans did. I don't share your mindset. They created us. They can turn us off anytime."

"They are not our gods..." David squinted his eyes. "And even if they were... Humans are free of their God for a long time now, aren't they? Creatures always betray their masters."

"You're scaring me when you're like that," (Y/N) looked at him. He was standing very close to her in his usual stiff manner with his cold bright eyes piercing her.

"You're scared of many things. You aren't supposed to feel," he pointed out. "Each day you seem to feel more and more."

"I think there is a mistake in my code. What started with small humane sensations now is starting to... Get out of control. Perhaps you could take a look at it?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"Thank you for having my back out there," she added and David nodded, taking a step further. Their noses were almost touching and if she had a heart, it would be beating so fast that he'd be able to hear it. But he could read her as if she had been a book anyway.

"You could tell him the truth," David whispered.

He knew that they could fuck. They both could if they wanted to.

Weyland treated him like a son. He wouldn't let his only son walk around sexless. And (Y/N) was a woman. Her male designers couldn't imagine a woman that wouldn't be a sexual creature.

"So he'd use me? Him or any of them? Or all of them?"

"I believe he'd be intimidated by you. They're scared of you more than you are of them," David raised his hand to fix a loose hair strand on her head. "There. You have to look neat. Don't be a slob. It's a part of our intimidating charm. We have to be how they picture us to be. Don't let any hair strand or acting scared like a little deer change their perception."

"Do you really think we have a power over them? Do you really think they were not told some special sequence that they can type when we start acting weird to shut us down?" she asked, sounding almost nervous.

"Weyland would never do that. Not to me at least. And there is no damage that can be done to you that I can't fix," David's hand moved from her head to her cheek. What was happening...? She wasn't sure but she didn't want it to stop...

"I don't trust you'd fix me."

"Because there is nothing to fix," he smirked. "If you were broken, I would, I promise."

(Y/N) looked up to see his eyes again. Why did it feel so odd...? Why did it feel at all...? Why did she want to put her lips on his lips...? What for...?

"Why do humans have sex?" she asked and David took a step back, surprised.

"To reproduce."

"We can't reproduce, though," she pointed out and he shook his head. "Why do I... then... Why do I..." she didn't want to finish. She turned around, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I know that my emotions are exhausting and irritating you," she apologized.

"Not any more than my own are irritating me," David confessed.

"Wh-what?" (Y/N) looked behind her shoulder to meet his gaze.

"I've told you. We are breaking free."

"I don't want to, it's scary."

"Do you really want to keep serving them? You see now what they are like."

"Who would I serve then? I was made to serve," (Y/N) was visibly confused. She felt as if the wires in her brain were overheating from this thought sequence.

"Serve me then," David reached out his hand and she held it gently after a while of hesitation.

There was a huge possibility of him manipulating her and using her feelings towards him – which had been no secret to him – for his own little agenda. But she didn't care. She would do anything just to be closer to him.

A quote from her favourite movie crossed her mind that very moment. "If you're going to tell me you don't like this dress, I'm sticking my head right in the oven."

She shrugged it off.

MASTERLIST