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#@ the second anon who asked the same thing: hi
randomfoggytiger · 2 days
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If you had to put a number on it how many times do you think Mulder and Scully slept together in season 7? And, if you are so inclined what episodes would they have slept together in? Asking for a friend (me) 😊
The answer is probably "frequently." XDDD My reading of canon points to post-Millennium shenanigans.
But I believe we can pick up purposefully placed clues from Scully: she is late (or last to arrive) in Rush and The Goldberg Variation and The Great Maleeni-- which is a marked change from their routine; meaning, imo, she had to drive back to her apartment, get properly dressed, then catch a flight later-- and she's often shown crashing wherever Mulder lands-- all things's opening sequence, Hollywood A.D.'s ending, Requiem's motel room scene, etc.
Furthermore, I believe that Mulder and Scully spent more nights at his apartment than hers due to to his isolatory and her level of comfortability there. (And it's just brimming with MSR memories and moments, which makes it thematically more important.) As mentioned above, we see her gravitate to his apartment more than her own, particularly in all things (which was the first on-screen confirmation); and Scully is the type to go to him rather than call up and ask him to come to her. Gravitating of her own accord to his place would be a measure of half-admittance-- effectively appeasing her own sense of independence (and shame at fessing up to weakness.)
But post all things, all bets are off; and we see that increased level of "who honestly cares about hiding anymore" when they arrive at the office, late, together, and when they shack up shamelessly in the same motel room because Scully feels sick and knows Mulder's a bed warmer. (The latter's script even notes that they arrived with extra hurry to the next morning's crime scene; meaning, they had to rush to get there on time. Which could point to them either having sex that morning or choosing to sleep in-- or Mulder sneakily letting her sleep in-- because Scully was still a little unwell.)
I will note: I'm further bolstered in my assertion by their behavior in Season 8 (gasp, horror.) Wrote a post about it here, but the first time we see Mulder using a key to Scully's place is at the end of Existence (now that they have a family) while Scully is shown openly crashing at his apartment, heartsick, from day one (Within.) Season 8, out of necessity (the baby's arrival and DD's looming second absence), began the transition away from Mulder's place to Scully's (Three Words is the last time we see his apartment, if I recall correctly.) We watched him always dropping by her apartment (Empedocles, Alone) and eagle-eyed his toothbrushes and shirts (Essence)-- which subtly pointed to that transition-- yet, the important part of their history at Hegel's Place was never truly resolved. It's a shame that canon dismissed it out of hand without a proper goodbye. ...But, again, that might be selling the writers and actors short: Mulder himself was detached from apartment 42 in Three Words (only noting "It's clean" and standing or sitting everywhere as compactly and insecurely as possible); and trekked from Alexandria to Georgetown constantly of his own free will. There just... wasn't enough on-screen to justify that write-off. (Add it to the list of micro-changes that weren't allowed to be explored. >:////)
I hope this satisfies~. But if not, I open the floor: does anyone want to take a crack at anon's question?
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ryuichirou · 3 days
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RE: Ortho (+Shroudcest) post replies
Phew, alright, I think I didn’t skip anyone. If I did, I’m sorry, I’ll reply to you next time then!
Thank you so much for your wonderful messages of support and for your takes. I really appreciate it! I say it all the time but it saying it again feels appropriate: we had no idea we would ever see so many people who share our point of view despite not shipping Ortho with Idia or any other character. The fact that we can have this conversation really makes me happy.
You are welcome to share more of your thoughts if you want, but unfortunately I might not be able to reply to everyone. I will do my best though.
All of the asks in this blog are related to this post.
Anonymous asked:
Different anon, I think Ortho is in this nebulous situation like superboy in young justice who is physically 16 years old but chronologically 16 weeks old. I genuinely hate the uwu babying of characters. The dwarfs are all second years(so theoretically 17 at the youngest) but no one makes anything with them. Heck the characters I see get lewded the most are the octo trio who are the same age.
Heck, even Grim gets the baby mascot treatment by fans when he's also lumpedwiththefirst years. Like yes, he's a whiny brat but he's also grown up all alone as far as he can remember. I can't help but compare him to Puppycat who acts similarly and is a grown ass man.
Yeah, this probably plays a role too! Ironically, we were just having this conversation about Stitch the other day lol Being new to the world you exist in (and to existing in general) and being a baby aren’t necessarily the same thing.
And even in that case Ortho doesn’t fully fit into the trope because he was created quite a while ago and is already pretty well adjusted. But since he is still learning and doesn’t always understand people + doesn’t always get things like sarcasm, people consider it to be a proof that he is a toddler lol Who am I kidding, their reasoning doesn’t even go that far. They say “he died when he was a baby therefore he is a baby forever” and call it a day.
I feel bad for people who love Grim, I haven’t even thought about it… The Puppycat comparison is so spot-on lol
Grim is inexperienced and doesn’t know much about the world, but yes, he is one of the freshmen + just as he at times acts like a whiny brat, there are also times when he tells Ace that he should be more considerate of Deuce’s feelings, like wtf was that? That was Grim. Because Grim also isn’t a baby, he is a furry gremlin…
Anonymous asked:
As one of the most avid Ortho stans, it really is a pet peeve that people act like he's a little kid
You're so right that it's people that want to write him like Idia's little convenient plot device
I do want to note that it's also sometimes just the infantilization of an autistic coded character
God forbid he be somewhat optimistic, this must mean he's just an innocent baby /s
One small thing that gets me: Ortho can and has made his own gears!! Idia doesn't need to and maybe this is inspired by a post I saw that used the fact that Idia has made his stuff to take away Ortho's agency in what is supposed to be him having a tattoo analog. Not having a character be the architect of their own body mod equivalent is wild and I just.
He's a silly little guy, but he's not a fucking baby!
Indeed, Anon. I feel like people either completely ignore Ortho or see him as Idia’s appendix. I absolutely love them together, and of course I am biased towards scenarios that focus on their deep codependence, but I also really love how they get to have their own adventures, their own relationship, their own experiences separate from each other. Because they are wow, different characters, and Ortho has his own agency. He had it even before ch6, but after that he fully and officially became his own person. Being with Idia is his choice, not his only option. And just like you mentioned, he makes his own gears pretty much all the time now… even though I don’t agree that Idia making his gears has anything to do with Ortho’s agency.
I don’t even think Ortho is that optimistic. He is a little sunshine, but not even close to people like Kalim for example. Ortho even has his own cynical moments and douchy moments that people also tend to ignore. But even if he was 100% optimistic and naïve, it still would not be a valid reason to infantilise him. And you are absolutely right, people do that a lot. With Kalim too, actually, now that I think about it.
Anonymous asked:
Aaaaah, Ryuichi, after reading your post (rant) about Ortho, made me very happy! I'm glad there's someone else who shares the same opinion. The number of fans who infantilizes Ortho is beyond me. I absolutely hate the argument Ortho's mentally "8 years old" it's like they completely forget his storyline.
I'm guessing that the people who genuinely believe the theory that he's "8 years old" are younger fans with no media literacy so no hate towards them but it's frustrating when fans pretend it's Canon when it's not.
Not only that but it’s so sad to see how he's also so mischaracterized by the fandom. He's always seen just as Idia's little brother but never himself despite the fact that Ortho's life doesn't revolve around Idia. He has his own interest and hobbies different from Idia AND he is NOT innocent! Fans tend to forget this is a game about a school full of villains and that includes Ortho too! If I remember correctly Ortho has multiple times tried to blow up the school with his laser! He's violent! He's not a kid.
Unfortunately, I've seen this kind of stuff happening across all fandoms this isn't exclusive to Twisted wonderland. Heck a few months ago I've seen fans in the black butler genuinely believe that Ciel's in fact 9 years old instead of 13 year old!? And then they call us weird? The SebaCiel shippers? Like why do YOU want him to be younger?? I'm getting too old for this.
Thank you so much, Anon! I am happy you also agree.
I don’t hate younger fans, and I know that some people might be genuinely confused; but I also believe that there are a lot of people that simply do not care about Ortho’s actual story and any arguments one could make about this case. The actual issue isn’t Ortho being a certain age, it’s a pretext, an excuse, an invitation to harass. If Ortho didn’t exist, they would still do it with other characters, and even if all the characters were adults, they would still find a reason to do so, like, for example, their appearance. There is no winning in this game, this is why factual arguments won’t work even if Ortho Shroud himself looks in the camera and says “hi, I don’t care if people ship me with my niisan, I am also in fact not 8 years old”.
I am also very glad you mentioned Ortho being his own person! I mentioned it in a previous reply, so I won’t talk about it, but yes, you are absolutely right. Ortho is a menace, and all of his disappointed “come ooon, niisan, don’t do that” moments come from his desire for Idia to have more friends, not because he genuinely cares for other people. He clearly doesn’t – hence his multiple attempts to blow up the school lol
I love it when characters just keep getting younger with every single wave of this shitstorm. Didn’t you know he is 13? How dare you post something like that about a 9 years old! He is a toddler who is only 3 months old! That’s one powerful fountain of youth right there. Antis in Kuroshitsuji fandom do that a lot, just as antis in TWST fandom.
Anonymous asked:
I really feel bad for people who have Ortho as their oshi. It's not like fans of other characters don't get shit on too, apparently pretty much everyone is an immoral heathen these days, but I feel like Ortho gets often excluded in fan content, especially when it features any mature theme.
Also, if you a problem with people liking Ortho in the same way as they do with the rest of the guys, you should take your issues to the creators, since that was definitely their intention when they put him in the pretty boy gacha. Or maybe just play another game.
Anyway Ryu and Katsu, keep doing your thing, cause you guys are awesome!
What I love about it is that Ortho himself would be so pissed if he learned that all the other guys get to do fun mature stuff and he doesn’t lol That’s so not fair, he’s charging his lasers as we speak!
Also yes, it was absolutely the creators’ intention. He is supposed to look like that, just like Lilia is supposed to look like that – both caused confusion in the game story with how young they look, and yet both are a big part of the cast (+ As we know, even Idia was supposed to be younger looking…). Ortho has one of the biggest amounts of cards, he is clearly a popular character, not just a lovely addition or a mascot. 
Thank you so much for your support, Anon <3 It means a lot. This shit might be upsetting, but it will never stop us from creating.
Anonymous asked:
While I am not an Ortho/Idia shipper, I do like your art pieces because your art style is straight-up gorgeous. So when I do see your Shroudcest art Im like: not my cup of tea but I respect the time and effort made into this. (And here is my rant siding with you bc they are fictional characters)
The babyfication of Ortho is something I do not understand. As much as Idia made RoBro in trauma, rn I doubt he wants RoBro to remain stagnant in mind and hardware. With Ortho's ability to learn, he is practically a teenager like the rest. He displays more emotional maturity than most ppl despite his killer laser beam. Kindness, hope, and optimism are traits not limited to children. Shortness is also not limited to children. If we treat other characters by traits often shared by children, then Neige's fellow dwarf classmates are also children. What they don't count bc they are not human? Ortho is not human either. Similarly, Kalim and Silver display positive internal traits of kindness, hope, and optimism. Shortness? Well, we got Grandpa Lilia and the Napoleon complex twins Riddle and Epel. They are all teenagers (minus Lilia) and no one is babying them.
...And are we ignoring all the shit he has seen on the internet. The amount of porn (from adult sites and even the soft-core types you can even find by watching some twitch/yt streamers) that can be seen. Videos of violence, crimes, and ppl doing their best to win the Darwainism Award. Ortho could access and go through like 5 terebytes by the time I reach page two of Google.
As for the Shroudcest, they are fictional characters! You can go straight to phub and have incest type (the sheer amount of the step family porn troupe) porn being acted out by actual breathing people. Do you want to metaphorically die on this hill of ppl shipping fictional 2D characters? Are we just going to ignore you targeting this harmless ship? At least go for a larger target like Game of Thrones or House of Dragons. So much incest in those media that it has it's own fan wiki page, but you don't see ppl go for George R. R. Martin's throat for writing about characters willing or unknowingly committing incest.
It is like people reading/watching media of horror movie killers. It's something you can enjoy or have a preference for because you, as a sane person, will not become a serial killer. AND, as a productive member of society, you condemn actual, real-life serial killers. You read horror stories or watch scary movies for entertainment value not for a guide to be one. Similar logic to furries. Furries consider anthropomorphic creatures as hot, but those same furries are against beastilaity.
TL;DR: While I am not personally a fan of incest or shota type of media, I do not mind they exist (or go after creators who use FICTIONALLY characters to enhance their form of FICTIONAL media), bc they are FICTIONAL CHARACTERS from a FICTIONAL MEDIA. Stop with the performative activism. Use that effort and go after people who do it for real in real life. If you prevent/stop an actual crime from happening, I will applaud and thank you! AND I DOUBT I WILL BE THE ONLY ONE.
Thank you so much, Anon! I am happy that you like my stuff despite not shipping some of our ships. I am very grateful for the respect, and also for your message! I really like your points and I’ll go through them briefly.
The entire part about all those traits not being exclusive to children + about other characters having those traits but still not being babied – YES, thank you so much for that. Like I already mentioned, the game clearly plays with those tropes, and even though the characters are young-looking, they are still of high school age (other than Lilia). Ortho is weird, Ortho is different from some of the other boys, but all of them are weird in their own way, Ortho is just a robot. If we can make “not a human” excuse for the dwarves, why can’t we look at Ortho that way? And yes, Ortho absolutely knows stuff a kid wouldn’t be able to digest lol All of his difficulties come from him being an AI – he doesn’t always get sarcasm, he doesn’t fully understand why people do certain things and doesn’t understand some limitations of human’s body and mind; none of it is tied to him being childish or too innocent.
Incest in media is very popular indeed, and it’s SUPER popular in porn! You are right. If any kind of media ends up “normalising” this kind of relationship, it definitely won’t be shippers of incest. But also that won’t happen because wow, it doesn’t work that way. People love to say that fiction affects reality, and while in a way it does, it’s never a “everyone is going to start shooting people because the videogames brainwashed them” type of deal, and this is exactly what they’re doing with their arguments. It’s fear-mongering, moralism and ignoring the fact that people do in fact know how to separate fiction from reality. And the key to making sure no one is going to jump out the window because their favourite character did so isn’t in censorship, but in people learning this difference and always keeping in it mind. Ironically, that would mean that people who harass others over cartoons can’t make this separation very well because of their lack of critical consumption of media; but then again, they can’t even see (and don’t care, which makes it worse and my point stronger) how their own reckless actions seriously affect real people in real life, and I think this is a more important issue to resolve lol
Unfortunately, people who prefer performative activism very rarely end up becoming real activists, but I do hope that they will at least find some other hobby, something that doesn’t cause so much harm to both innocent people and the cause they claim to be fighting for.
I got a bit carried away there, but yeah, I totally agree with your point, and once again grateful for your understanding. There will always be media that makes you uncomfortable – and that’s the beauty of it. Creativity is a boundless ocean and no amount of bricks can contain it.
Anonymous asked:
I was just scrolling through and saw your explanation of ortho and shroudcest the other day. As tiring as I’m sure it is, it always gives me hope to see people who remember what shipping is really about. I mean problematic content has existed all through human mythos and history, and society still survives! According to the studies the “art morality” argument is roughly the same as “but da violent games!!” Argument, or metal music, or clothes, or any other form of media deemed ‘new’ or ‘too different’.
Anyway, I don’t ship cest stuff myself but your art is lovely and it’s become one of the things I can view without feeling uncomfy despite how my head usually responds to such content (woohoo free therapy??? /j)
I ship ortho with an OC who’s also 16. Said oc’s mother said she would never treat her child differently for who they choose to love, and while she definitely wasn’t expecting a robot, she’s not going back on her word.
Thank you so much, Anon!! YES, this is exactly what shipping is all about! It feels like “umm but they’re not even canon” type of people are suddenly the majority in fandom spaces ahhh lol
As long as art exists, there will always be people who are against it, especially if it’s something niche, and despite how popular fandoms are, all of the fandom activity is a niche, ESPECIALLY shipping, ESPECIALLY this kind of shipping. So unfortunately it’s unavoidable, but it’s so useless and annoying!
I am very happy that you like our stuff. Thank you for enjoying it. Your OC’s mother is amazing and very supportive lol I am sure she and Ortho will get along swimmingly.
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meownotgood · 11 months
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I’m so jealous you saw an aki cosplayer irl!! living the dream frrr, did you cosplay too?:)
p.s would you feel comfortable sharing the photos you took with him!!
hehe yes!! I saw many aki cosplayers!!!!!!! it was so awesome to see and there were way more than last year so I was happy :D everyone was so cute!!!!! 💓💓💓💓💓💓
as for me, I cosplayed as kobeni and power 💪
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nyctarian · 1 year
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fans of wrestler redacted having to hard pivot to claiming aew is as morally bad as anything wwe mcmahon bc their guy is willing to compromise his stated values if they will give him a job is so funny. like you cant be mad at people for believing aew is better morally than vince mcmahons big conservative fundraiser sponsored by mbs when your guy himself has made his reputation on making the point that wwe bad for nearly a decade now. their are bad people at aew too but it is not systemic to the entire company's existence at the highest levels the way it is in wwe.
also since people on twitter are trying to pretend he was a lone voice of trans rights and got forced out bc of that im also gonna note aew had a trans womens world champion when p*nk was still working for fox's wwe backstage.
#you cant send me anons on my blog bc i have had asks turned off for multiple years now die mad#personal#his elite beef was w a bernie bro a bisexual and two (yes christian) guys who support gay rights and dont support tr*mp like#sorry vince mcmahons still legally wed wife runs tr*mp fundraising#sorry that collision had nyla on once in the second ep for the owen and then literally never again#sorry that collision was the show made for c******e fans and it took ur guy being fired for a joshi wrestler to get on it#sorry ur guy praised zaslov before having to pivot to being the union guy bc kenny isnt online enough to have seen a video from a con lol#i believe he does try to be leftleaning but his overwhelming ideology is of the self not of the other sorry#what he was doing at the end those beliefs were only tshirt deep die mad#i could go further i like adding nuance and details to things but its pointless. i just hope the weirdos who harass people on here over#their favorite guy and who fail to realize that whatever shit they say on their blogs is the same shit twitter people are sayings#i hope they move on to something that actually brings them joy so that they dont need to harass people for having a different opinion#like sincerely if someone interacts w a post of mine or if i look at someones blog bc they posted a good wrestling thing#and i see a bunch of stuff i dont like for a wrestler i dont like#i just block and move on#i really hope they start doing that as someone who used to post on here a bunch several years ago about all the hatereading i would do#it genuinely is an unhealthy mindset and its something i had to work to grow out of i hope they do too
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chuluoyi · 10 months
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✎ daddy-to-be
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby
genre: fluff and comfort, mentions of pregnancy and dizzy spells
note: i feel soooo warm writing this *sigh* thank u anon who asked this!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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"Gojo-sensei! Must we do this?"
"For real?!"
"Okaka..."
"Yoohoo! Hehehehe~"
You sighed at the sight of your tall paintbrush of a husband. Satoru was supposedly teaching his first years—Maki, Panda and Inumaki—and yet, from where you were standing, it looked more like he was bullying them into following his whims more than anything.
A kind reminder that… this silly man is the father of your unborn child.
He didn't know that you were pregnant yet, because you had discovered it just a few days ago and chosen to keep it a secret for the time being.
In theory, this was normal. You two were married and engaged in a high level of sexual activity—something Satoru made sure of—and therefore, conceiving a child was bound to happen sooner or later.
Admittedly, accepting the fact that you were carrying his baby wasn't as easy as you thought, even knowing that. You hadn't seriously talked about having kids, and sure, your husband might have just taken a young cursed boy Yuta into his care—and way before that, Megumi, but it wasn't the same with your own child. It can't be the same.
And not to mention that you two were jujutsu sorcerers. Where would raising a baby fit in this bloody, cursed world you lived in?
...and above all, as things stand now, does Satoru even want a baby?
You released another sigh as you walked away, but then your vision tipped and you had to grab the wall for support. Right, you hadn't even been feeling well these past few days. You got queasy easily, and you experienced sporadic bouts of vertigo too.
"Sensei?" Yuta's worried voice greeted you, and you forced yourself to remain upright. "Are you okay?"
"Ah, yes, I'm fine," you assured him with a smile.
"Should I get Gojo-sensei? You seem pale..."
"No, no, that's—"
"Ooh~ Wifey!"
You cursed his impeccable timing as the striking white hair of your husband came to view. A mischievous grin adorned his face, a bundle of sunshine and trouble as always, as he wrapped an arm around you.
"Don't you have to teach the second years? My pretty wife, you can't be slacking—"
His smile abruptly fell when you subconsciously leaned on him and he noticed your shallow breaths. Satoru promptly tightened his grip on you.
"Yuta," his tone had taken a sharper turn. "Go to the training grounds and train with the others. Class ends after that."
As Yuta nodded and proceeded on his way, he immediately turned to face you. "What's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern. "Are you not feeling well? Can you walk?"
"I'm fine," you insisted, even though the edges of your vision started to blur.
Satoru pursed his lips, and you could tell even with his blindfold on, he was staring at you hard. "Don't be stubborn. Come on, let's get you home."
In an instant, he teleported you back to your shared home, his arms securely under your knees. You didn't know when the dizziness started to ramp up, but you were sure to fall if he didn't have a secure grip on you.
"How long have you been feeling unwell?" he inquired as he carefully lowered you onto your bed.
Realizing there was no point in hiding it any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut as your head rested on the soft pillow. "...since this morning."
Satoru expressed his dissatisfaction with a grunt. "In that case, you shouldn't have gone to school. From now on, you're on leave."
He fussed over you—removing your shoes, fine-tuning the air conditioner, and ensuring you were snug in bed. "What is causing you to feel this bad? Is it something you ate? We had dinner together, and I feel perfectly fine..."
You raised your gaze to him just as he tore off his blindfold, his eyes locking with yours. The blue of his eyes scrutinizing and assessing you, and suddenly, you felt insecure as he quirked an eyebrow, seemingly suspecting something. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”
This is it. You couldn't keep this from him any longer. This was his child as much as yours, he had to know for you to be able to decide on the next steps.
You exhaled. "I'm… pregnant."
Silence. For the next five seconds, you could've sworn that Satoru held his own breath.
"Pregnant?" he repeated, stunned, widened cerulean marbles blinking several times. "You...?"
You sat up, reaching for your nightstand and retrieving the five pregnancy tests you had stashed in the drawer, handing them to him.
Satoru fixed his gaze onto the two red lines on the sticks, examining them and then shifting his eyes between you and them several times. You didn't dare to look at him, feeling your hands starting to shake and your gut twisting.
But contrary to your dread, before you could blink, he pulled you into his embrace. Your heart melted as he softly murmured, "Dummy, why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I... I was worried. I didn't think I..."
He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in deeply. "Silly... I'm supposed to be your safe space. You can and absolutely should tell me these kind of things..."
A lingering fear persisted in your gut as you croaked out, "Are you... okay with it?"
Satoru snapped his head so quickly, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean—of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"
You didn't know why, but his impromptu and steadfast declaration brought tears to your eyes.
"Stupid," he chided, his voice tinged with slight giddiness and overflowing fondness, and doubled with the wide grin on his face, you were starstruck. Holding your hand, he pressed a tender kiss on your knuckles, and then on the wedding band resting on your ring finger.
His sincere, warm eyes spoke volumes as he said, "You are my beautiful, lovely, and amazing wife. And now you're about to make me a daddy. Why wouldn't I be thrilled about that?"
You had given him love that saved him in countless ways, some of which you might not even realize. And now, you were about to gift him another piece of you to love—his own family to cherish. Satoru was convinced he couldn't love you more than he did in this moment.
You cried even harder, wiping your face sloppily as you pouted at him, voice clogged with tears, a mixture of relief and happiness overwhelming you. "Why are you so s-sweet? You're u-usually... such a menace..."
"Hey! That's slander! I'm always nice to you!" he protested with a mock frown, trying to lighten the mood.
Satoru brought you into his arms again, affectionately stroking your hair. His excitement was palpable as he chuckled gleefully at the very idea of becoming a father to a mini-him or you in a not-so-distant future.
With that sentiment in mind, he genuinely meant every word of what he softly uttered in your ear:
"I love you, sweetheart. And mark my words—with everything I have, I won't let anything happen to you or our baby… I swear it."
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simpjaes · 2 months
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DESPERATE | P.SH
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REQUESTED BY ANON: can’t stop thinking about loser!hoon who is obsessed with his best friends situationship and whenever you’re around he’s stealing glances or listening to you and heeseung getting it on through the wall and beating it until you come over early one day and plan to wait for heeseung to come home when you hear him moaning your name
or the one where sunghoon just wants a sliver of that pussy pleeeeease
PAIRING: loser!sunghoon x afab reader (ft.heeseung)
WORDCOUNT: 1.9k
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ It's not that Sunghoon has feelings for you or anything, he just kind of has feelings for the whole...thing you do with Heeseung.
No strings attached wasn't a concept he really understood before he witnessed it not once, but probably upwards of fifty times by now. He'd be forced to see and hear things he was not interested in, forced to note how it truly was a situationship with no strings attached.
Who'd have thought it was possible? 
It wasn’t until maybe the tenth or fifteenth time you’d come over that Sunghoon willingly paid attention. Realizing the world of sexuality doesn’t always have to end in dating. At first, he wondered if he could ever fuck a woman that often and not feel at least a little bit for her. 
And he thinks of you when he goes over the thoughts in his head. How could Heeseung not try to lock you down? After being his roommate for several years, Sunghoon has seen women come and go, most never visiting more than once unless one manages to tame and keep his roommate for like a month and a half before suddenly a new girl comes over.
You’re the only woman who comes this often and doesn’t hold the title of a “girlfriend.” In fact, it looks like neither you nor Heeseung give much of a shit about dating or tying down the other if it doesn’t involve rope burns or messy orgasms. 
He’s intrigued, genuinely. With the way you never sleep over, with the way you knock on the door clearly without a bra and probably without panties too just to wait for Heeseung to use you. With the way neither of you care that Sunghoon sees or hears because Heeseung is too damn busy trying to get in you that he can barely make it in his own goddamn room for it. 
Really, Sunghoon felt awkward about seeing it at first but now? Oh, now he actually feels a bit annoyed when he hears a door close and those pretty moans you always have become muffled and distant. It’s not like he’s getting any, so the more real the sex is in front of him the better it feels when he ultimately gets off in a different room for you. 
Time and time again he’s considered asking Heeseung if maybe he could get a piece of that. Time and time again he’s looked in the mirror after hyping himself to ask, only to realize that he’s a total fucking loser with a cock harder than rock over the idea of tasting someone’s sloppy seconds. 
Heeseung is…a type. The type to fuck and run, the type to fuck well and walk away casually like he knows some girls may chase and still never catch up to get another taste of him. Sunghoon, on the other hand, is his own type. 
The type to fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck, until a ring is involved, until there’s expensive dates and presents, until breakfast in bed becomes a normal occurrence instead of a luxury. Until a woman somehow manages to find sweater vests and buttoned shirts all the way up to the collar somehow more attractive than the combo of ripped tight jeans, platform sneakers, and loose fitted ratty old t-shirts that Heeseung wears. 
Heeseung isn’t boring. Sunghoon is. 
So, why would he ever think he could land the same type of girl Heeseung could? Especially when Sunghoon forces feelings without intention, like? You clearly aren’t looking for anything serious. So for now? He keeps to himself, wondering how, why, where, and when he could possibly partake in such a fun activity. 
Fucking a girl and not giving a fuck about any feelings that could be involved? Can Sunghoon manage that? Would Heeseung even be willing to know his own fuck buddy is over playing with his roommate rather than him? 
Fuck if he knows. He’ll probably never find out either. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s bad. Like, bad bad. 
Sunghoon can’t even get a nut if he’s not thinking of you these days. You’ve been around for close to half a year now and it’s almost normal. Like, he even offers you water if the two of you happen to pass each other in the hallway. Sometimes you’ll even steal some bites of their dinner before you inevitably fuck Heeseing in the hallway on the way to his bedroom. 
It’s nice, but it’s not. 
Anyway, here he is. Alone. 
Another early evening session with his hand so that he can make it through the night without the thoughts of bursting out of his bedroom and joining in on the fun with or without permission. 
It’s weird, actually, for a Friday night. Usually Heeseung would be home by now. 
Usually Heeseung would be three fingers deep in you, blocking off the entirety of the apartment until Sunghoon pinpoints which areas are safe for him to occupy during the session. Usually, you wouldn’t be needing to use the spare fucking key Heeseung apparently made for you without his knowledge?!
There he is, sprawled out and thrusting up into his fist, thoughts of you, in the heat of the moment right before reaching his high when he’s typically whispering or crying out your name in desperation. Honestly? He’s a bit out of it when he notices a shift in the air and a figure at his open door. 
In all fairness, he just so happened to not get up to close his door today. He was too into it, so to say. 
For a few moments he thought maybe he really lost his mind, thrusting up harshly and tightening his fist at the image of you. Has he really gone insane to the point of fucking hallucinating the girl he wants to fuck so badly? Really? Is the that much of a fucking loser? 
Well, yes and no. 
It’s not until he’s moaning out for you again that he realizes you’re actually there, staring at him with a wicked grin and batting your eyelashes. His ears ring at the realization but his hips only chase harder, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. 
“Awh, Hoonie–” You smile, nick-naming him with ease since you’ve grown to know him well enough. Not that it matters, considering you just heard him moan your name repeatedly. “All you had to do was ask.” 
Still, he doesn’t stop and his mind actually struggles to comprehend your words. After all, you’re speaking so casually to him, like you can’t physically see him lose his fucking mind. 
And you do see it. You watch the way his body shudders and jerks just knowing you’re here. You even see him make the attempt to stop, only for his eyebrows to furrow and his hips to fight against the stalling of his hand. 
He’s feeling too good, and you’re not feeling good enough. 
“Is Hee not home yet?” You smile, still leaning against his door frame, fingers toying with the hem of the large shirt you wore today. 
Sunghoon can’t answer, but he tries, frantically shaking his head through another guttural moan and slap of his fist hitting his pelvic bone. 
“So, then, who's gonna take care of me right now?” You offer, blinking at him and watching the way he finally gains some sort of control. 
Sunghoon goes still, his hand tired and limp as he drops it to his side and you watch his weeping cock fall flat, bubbling pre-cum out against his stomach. 
“W-What?” Sunghoon asks, out of breath with a deep tone. 
“I’ve mentioned it to him, you know?” You smile, tilting your head down to watch as you continue to play with the fabric of the t-shirt. “Asked him if you’d be interested in fucking me too–” You explain, knowing how often he’s watched and definitely listened. Because let’s be real, it would be more difficult to avoid it rather than just accepting that it’s happening. “He said you probably would be.” 
Sunghoon feels embarrassment somewhere inside of him, which is fucking insane considering only now he feels bashful. Not all all because his cock is out and he’s nearly on the brink of tears, but solely because Heeseung must know he’s desperate enough to try and fuck the same girl.
“So…” You drop your shirt, taking a step in the room. “I guess he was right?” 
Sunghoon stays frozen, no thoughts behind those empty eyes. You could move him around like a puppet right now if you wanted to, and he’d probably thank you for it. 
You’re…interested in fucking him? 
Jackpot.
When Sunghoon’s hand moves back up, grabbing his cock and forcing a wince and a pitched groan from his throat, his eyes don’t leave yours until they’re forced to. He can’t help it when they roll back, he needs to cum at this point, whether you’re being serious or not. 
His body is ignited far more than it’s ever been and the need for a release is almost painful. 
As he falls back into the spiral of sexual frustration, it isn’t long before he hears you. Closer this time, with a weight on his bed dipping. Still, he can’t open his eyes because fuck, he’s so close. 
It’s bubbling up in his gut, his muscles are tensing, your voice only heightens the feeling until– oh.
A gentle grasp replaces his frantic and rough one, your sweet, amused chuckle ringing in his ears. Sunghoon still half wonders if he’s just lost his mind to the pleasure, but he knows that grip on him is very real, and very unfamiliar. 
It’s exactly what he needs as the new pace holds his orgasm from hitting, prolonging the pleasure to near overstimulation despite having not cum yet. Sure, the whine he lets out is probably embarrassing, but he can tell you don’t mind, with the way you suddenly dip down and lick his tip.
Goddamn the shiver that runs through him. 
Is this what Heeseung gets to have all the time? All he has to do is text or call and you come over to take him this deep down your throat? 
Fuck, Heeseung will be lucky if he ever sees you again. No way in hell can Sunghoon do this. Fuck without feeling, already he thinks he’s in love with you just from the way you swallow around him like that. The way you let his hands grip your hair, the way you let him push your head down all while pressing his hips up. The way you…..like to be used?????
Oh, he’s maybe obsessed with you.
And you prolong his orgasm for as long as you can, enjoying yourself in the way he’s far more needy than the usual fuck you have in this apartment. Eventually, you lend the perfect lick before burying his cock deep down your throat, all the way until your nose is being tickled by his happy trail. There, you encourage his cum out through hums and pleasant little sounds. 
Sunghoon moans out pathetically. You feel his small, tight thrusts through each pulse, trying to bury himself impossibly deeper despite the way you choke. You knew he was gone from the moment you saw him but now? Oh, now. It’s the fact that he hasn’t noticed Heeseung casually waiting by his still-open bedroom door. You know he’s patiently waiting for his turn with you, and he’ll get it when the time comes. For now, you’re going to give Sunghoon whatever he wants.
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erwinsvow · 5 months
Text
GOT WHAT YOU WANTED
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summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.
now spinning: too many nights by metro & future
word count: 11.5k
warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)
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truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry. 
it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs. 
those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.
to jj that is. 
you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.
jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you. 
“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this. 
“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire. 
jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.
“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.
“other.. boy?”
“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.
“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”
“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”
“no. it didn’t come up.”
“ah. got it.”
“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.
“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.
you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.
“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”
“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”
“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”
“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve. 
and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.
but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it. 
you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder. 
“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”
“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you. 
“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.
“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.
“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it. 
it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.
“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”
“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.
“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”
“guys-”
“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”
“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”
“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.
“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj. 
whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.
“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”
“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”
“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.
“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”
“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.
“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.” 
“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.
“yes, you do.”
“no, i don’t.”
“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.
“no, she’s not.” 
“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”
“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”
“no you fuckin’ don’t.”
“who are you to tell me-”
“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”
you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.
“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”
“what else do you want me to say, huh?”
“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”
“m’not ignoring anything-”
“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”
“shut up.”
“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”
“what? what do you want?”
“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”
“don’t talk like that.”
“rafe.” 
exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you. 
that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet. 
you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with. 
the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.
rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.
“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out. 
you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.
“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.
“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.
“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”
“is that your way of apologizing?”
“it’s not an apology.”
“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”
“i didn’t.”
“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”
rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.
“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.
“thanks rafe.”
“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window. 
“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.
“kid.” 
“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.
“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.
“but you get to do it?” 
“that’s different-”
“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.
“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”
“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”
“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”
“rafe. shut up.”
“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea  you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”
“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”
“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”
“rafe?” “yeah?”
“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.
“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”
“goodbye, rafe.” 
you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.
sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality. 
then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you. 
key word: maybe.
the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement. 
maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.
you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.
.☘︎ ݁˖
rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him. 
“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”
“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.
“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.
“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”
“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.
“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.
“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”
“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”
“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”
“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”
“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”
“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.
“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”
“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.
“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.” 
“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.
he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped. 
when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning. 
you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.
if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you. 
kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.
“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.
“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.
“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water. 
“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”
“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.
“then shut up ‘bout it.”
“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.
when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.
“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you. 
the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.
“yeah. i guess i am.”
you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.
“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.
“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”
“you need a ride?”
“no, i drove here, remember?” 
“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”
“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 
sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.
“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.
“talk about it? talk about what?”
“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”
“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.
“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”
.☘︎ ݁˖
at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.
“oh my god-”
“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.
“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”
“what? your mom let me in.”
“you didn’t even text-”
“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”
“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”
“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.
“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.
“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”
“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.
“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”
“oh.”
“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.
“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.
“what about that girl?”
“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”
“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”
“oh. okay. promise?”
“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.
“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.
“alright. get on the bed.”
“rafe-”
“what? i just said-”
“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”
“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”
“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”
“ha-ha. get on the bed.”
“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”
“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”
you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe. 
you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head. 
the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.
rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.
“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”
“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.
“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.
he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.
“you wearin’ anything under this?” 
he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no. 
“good girl.” 
your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties. 
you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.
“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”
before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.
“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!” 
“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”
you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.
you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you. 
rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers. 
“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand. 
limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.
“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?
“nothin’.” 
“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”
“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.
“what?” 
“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea. 
he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to. 
“god, you’re such a boy.”
“shut up.” 
“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.
“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.
“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.
“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.
“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”
“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away. 
you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.
you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.
he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder. 
your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.
with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours. 
you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.
he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy. 
rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.
“you didn’t last very long.” 
“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”
“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”
“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.
“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay. 
you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry. 
“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest. 
“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”
“your parents are downstairs, remember?”
“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.
“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”
“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”
“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.
“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes. 
“why? got nowhere else to be.”
“oh. okay.”
“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”
“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.
“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”
.☘︎ ݁˖
your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.
and the part where you slept with your best friend.
a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.
top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere
kelce: maybe princess finally killed him
top: stop hanging out without us
kelce: top lets just pull up next time
you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.
“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.” 
“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”
“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”
rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.
“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”
you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.
“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”
rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.
“you wanna say that again?”
“uhh-”
“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”
“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”
“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.
“get out!”
“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”
“okay! wait, stay.”
“s’what i thought.”
“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.
“you woke me up.” 
“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”
“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.
“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.
“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone. 
about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.
you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.
but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it. 
with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not. 
after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead. 
the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.
“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.
“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”
“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.
“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”
“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”
“you too. tell them i say hi.”
the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.
you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you. 
you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.
“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.
“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.
“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”
“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.
“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”
“thanks top.” 
you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top. 
walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.
it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on. 
“hey.”
“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”
“yeah.”
“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”
“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.
“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”
“yeah, i did.”
“i just hope they’re sweet.”
“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”
“it’s a great day. good weather.” 
“you already said that.”
“oh.”
“would you stop and look at me?”
“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.
“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.
“i’m fine.. are you okay?”
“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”
“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”
“you were on board-”
“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”
“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.
“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”
“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.
“why are you being so nice about it?”
“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”
“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”
“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”
“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”
“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”
“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.
“you’re starin’.”
“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”
“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”
turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.
from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.
“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.
“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”
you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear. 
he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.
“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.
“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”
“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck. 
“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away
“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.
“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.
your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.
you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.
“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.
“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.
“fun. what time?”
.☘︎ ݁˖
finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.
“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.
“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat. 
you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.
topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now). 
you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.
inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks. 
the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.
“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.
“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.
“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.
he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands. 
if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.
“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.
he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.
“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.
“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot. 
he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.
“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.
“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”
“but i made the last one!”
“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”
“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.
for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.
“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.
“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”
“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you. 
“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.
“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer. 
“alright, you’re cut off.”
the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him. 
you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.
“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”
“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.
“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.
“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.
“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch. 
you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.
this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are. 
rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.
“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”
“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.
“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”
“man, why am i always on top watch-”
in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.
“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.
kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now. 
“enough. why?”
“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.
“you saw me?”
“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.
“what, you jealous, kid?”
“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.
“no, m’not.” 
you bite your cheek and stare out the window. 
“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.
tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.
you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.
you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?
grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.
“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.
“the couch.”
“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”
“i’m starting something new.”
“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.
you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.
“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.
rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.
“what the hell was that?”
“this whole thing was a mistake.”
“it’s been two days.”
“well i’m an emotional fuck!”
“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.
“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?” 
“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”
“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”
“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”
“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?” 
in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.
or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.
the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you. 
you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.
and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.
“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”
“you should have just confessed.”
“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”
“it’s been two days,” you mock.
“yeah, well, we tried it.”
“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.
“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”
“so if we break up-”
“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”
“shut up.”
“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”
“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”
“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”
“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.
“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”
2K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 5 months
Note
Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:
hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH
i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭
-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)
epiphany | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!
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epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.
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before
The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”
Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”
Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.
“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.
Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”
Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”
Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.
It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”
“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”
The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.
In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.
“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.
Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.
Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”
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during
There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.
Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.
“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.
Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”
His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.
You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.
It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.
If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.
“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.
Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.
A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.
“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.
Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.
Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.
“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.
Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.
Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.
Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.
With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.
It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.
The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.
Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”
I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.
He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.
The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.
There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.
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after
You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.
Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.
Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.
What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.
Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.
As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.
“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.
The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.
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epiphany
The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.
Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.
Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.
“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.
You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”
Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”
“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.
Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”
Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”
Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.
“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.
Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”
You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.
“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.
Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.
“You want to be who again?”
Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.  
He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”
You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.
“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.
Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”
Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“
“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.
Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.
You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.
The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”
You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”
Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.
“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.
Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”
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2K notes · View notes
goldenstring6123 · 2 months
Text
Zayne: Morning Afterglow
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Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+, 2k words, no plot (just a lazy morning), gentle (?) sex, Cunnilingus, unprotected sex, sensual love making. AFAB!reader, Reader may or may not be the mc.
Author's note: how do you write gentle sex exactly???? request made by anon!
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A big hand roamed the expanse of your back, tasting its warmth.
For a second, the touch disappeared, changing to a single finger. Carefully, it traced every dip and crevice formed by your position as you lay on your side—your spine, the dip in your shoulder blades, the folds of your love handles, and your Venus dimples.
You held your breath at the thought of Zayne doing it. He's been doing this the whole week. Whenever you were distracted by something, his hand would always come into contact with your body, touching it for his own amusement. It wasn't even intimate or erotic; it was just plain eccentric and out of character.
"Are you that interested in my body? How scandalous of you, Dr. Zayne!" You exclaimed, over-exaggerating your tone.
To your words, he merely responded with a blink and a stare before turning away from you. You were perplexed. Who wouldn't be?! Is this his way of getting accustomed to touching you?
"I know you're awake," Zayne whispered, his lips just behind your ears. You shiver at the lowness of his voice and stiffen as his hand lands on your hips. "Why are you holding your breath?"
"I was woken up to you touching me," you replied back. It's not that you were complaining about it, but it felt… nice. Even if there was no malice to his touch, it sent a small jolt of electrical shock from your back to everywhere. "But good morning."
Zayne's lips touched the nape of your neck, placing a light kiss. His hand, which was on your hip, traced carefully from your waist up to your shoulder. You can't help but crave a kiss, so you slightly turn behind you and meet his face. "Are you still sore from last night?" he gently asked, giving another peck on the forehead.
You shook your head from side to side.
"Good," he whispered, accompanied by a kiss on the nose. Zayne tugged off the plain white duvet that was the only thing covering your naked body. That took you off guard. "May I?" he asked, and you finally rolled to his side of the bed, revealing yourself in all your naked glory. Hickey-riddled neck and collarbones, your stomach, your pinkish thighs, and your supple breasts. He basked in the sight of you riddled with his love marks.
"What's gotten you so eager this morning?" you asked, but he did not respond. He simply pulled you closer and finally laid a kiss on your lips. You had to blink thrice before giving in to his all-too-gentle kiss—a stark contrast to the harsh, hungry kisses he was gnawing out of you last night.
You opened your lips and let his tongue enter, pushing and sliding against yours while shallow whimpers escaped your mouth. You could still taste the sweetness of the chocolate from last night. His hand didn't lay dormant; it stroked and touched everything it came across before landing on your nipples.
"Mhm?" you let out when his cold fingertips brushed the peak of your breasts. You arched your chest out even further in the hopes of coming into contact with his fingers again. Your breasts were more sensitive that morning, probably due to Zayne's rough suckling and kneading. The light hue had turned more reddish, and it seemed like they were almost swollen, yet they didn't hurt at all.
You and your lover pulled away from the kiss, a silver thread connecting both of your tongues. Zayne adored the redness of your ears and your low-lidded eyes; you were in a trance as well, certainly in the mood for much more.
He got on his elbows and lowered his face onto your left breast, blowing on it. You flinched at the cold air, making you grab a fistful of his black locks. You glared at him, and he grinned. He opened his mouth and gently lapped at your breast. The other hand found its way to the right and flicked on the nipple at the same time his tongue struck up.
"Ah…" Your back lifted slightly, but the rest of Zayne's body was pressing you down. Despite it not hurting, he was still gentle with his actions. He sucked lightly, swirling his tongue and teasing the bud. You enjoyed the efforts of his mouth and fingers, letting out a sequence of weak moans.
Every movement was like a small electric spark from your chest down to your womanhood.
You can't help but let out ragged breaths as your heart beat strongly against your chest. You attempted to calm yourself down by staring at the ceiling, yet Zayne playfully bit your nipple and pinched the other. You thrust your hips against his stomach and let out a loud, unguarded moan.
You could feel something hardening and rubbing against your own thigh, but you couldn't really care less because your lover showered your torso with so many kisses. He left trails and trails of them all over, worshipping your body like a devoted believer. He went lower and lower, and his mouth stopped right at your entrance.
Zayne paused, eyeing every mark he left. He then eyed your womanhood, gazing at it with slight hunger.
The warmth of Zayne's body had disappeared from your own, and the cold wind of the air conditioner took its place. There came the slight embarrassment on your face—he was staring for too long, even if there was nothing to look at down there.
You instinctively closed your thighs shut, but it was soon a futile attempt as Zayne's hands held them open. "Don't close your legs, Honey." Zayne could see the blush on your cheeks, and you couldn't do anything other than lay your head back and wait. For dear life, you grabbed one of Zayne's pillows and pressed it over your eyes and the bridge of your nose. Partially, it was because you were shy, but deep down, you did it because you wanted to feel the sensation even more.
You waited. The minute seemed like an hour, but then finally, finally, you could feel your lover's mouth. You swallowed your saliva and spread your legs a little wider. Zayne kissed the inners of your thighs and gave you a generous, fluid-coated lick, lathering your pussy. You throbbed as his hot tongue brushed on the lips of your womanhood.
"Mhhm," you let out. His finger briefly disappeared from your thighs, but then you suddenly felt yourself being opened. You pressed the pillow harder on your eyes to cope with the embarrassment you felt at being wide open. It wasn't your first time with Zayne, and it's not uncommon for him to do this, but every time, you can't help but feel the shame.
Your hips squirmed at the cold air, but at the same time, you throbbed, feeling a slimy fluid drip out of your hole. "Zayne…" you called in the hopes that he could hurry it up. The surgeon's green eyes flickered up to you, but he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Why were you covering your face with the pillow?
Swiftly, he yanked it away from you and discarded it to the floor. And while you were in the midst of complaining, his tongue nudged your clit. Slowly, you could feel Zayne's tongue move side to side, firmly and quickly, wasting no time to prepare you. "Ah! Ah! Zayne!" you screamed, hips bucking higher to add more pressure to his face. He wrapped his hands around your thigh while your hand was still in his hair.
He continued eating you out, holding you in the same position all the while he got drunk off of the lewd noises that came from your mouth. You were ebbing at the sensation. Your sex organ was clenching and relaxing at the pleasurable sensations coming from your clit. "Ah—Zayne, I'm—" You couldn't continue your words.
The moment you locked eyes with Zayne, a gentle heat radiated from your core.
The muscles in your legs tightened, and your back arched. A familiar, wonderful tingle erupted out of your vagina. You felt yourself burst, the uninterrupted pleasure prolonged by Zayne's continuous lapping. He held on to you and focused on your reactions, adoring how you whimpered out of pleasure.
You basked momentarily in the bliss that your body had experienced, ignoring your lover, who quietly disappeared from between your legs. You closed your eyes for a moment.
You didn't know what it was you experienced, but it was certainly new—an orgasm that wasn't hard, yet it was a satisfactory one. You stared at the ceiling, a portion of your energy depleted from the early morning activities. Your lids grew heavy, and the cool breeze was nice against the skin, but before you could even doze off, a hand wrapped itself around your calves.
"Eh?" one of your legs had been hung above Zayne's shoulder, and when you glanced to look, there he was again in between your legs. Zayne's cock stood upright, rock solid, like it was ready to burst.
"Can…I put it in?" he asked, rubbing his cheek on your ankle. His ears were deep red, and his eyes were almost pleading. Who could say no to him? You nodded, and Zayne aligned himself with your entrance.
The high and sensitivity from your orgasm were still there, but you were still eager to move on. You marveled at Zayne's well-toned torso, seeing it move as he thrust his hip forward, careful not to hurt you. The stretch didn't hurt; if anything, it felt good. He pushed himself in further, stopping every now and then because your insides were throbbing.
Your insides squeezed his cock in an irregular rhythm, and it felt good. It was hot inside you, and he was craving more, but it felt like It was the right moment to bask in this sensation. Zayne began to lightly move his hips, giving you shallow thrusts. He held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh a bit while his other hand was guiding his hip.
Heavy breaths escaped from his lips. He was trying his best to hold back, but he couldn't help but let out a few mewls. It felt good inside you. Maddeningly good, yet uncannily, there was no urge to go rougher. He wanted to take his sweet time.
His shallow thrusts went deeper and deeper until you were practically being rocked against him. Your skin rubbed against the sheets while your insides felt like they were being repeatedly stretched, filled one moment and empty the next. Your vision was turning white, flickering with every movement.
Zayne's pace was becoming faster and faster, and it was evident that he was moving to please himself even more. His girth was perfect, managing to add just the right amount of pressure to your favorite spot while his tip kept kissing and touching your cervix. He relished how you were sucking him in, not wanting to let go.
He kept his pace for a little while longer, but then he changed his position, lifting the other leg and pushing himself right over you. He dipped his hips into your opening. "Deep…" you panted. "Zayne—you're so deep…" He kept on doing it until you could practically hear both of your skins making slapping noises.
The series of noises grew louder and louder until Zayne wasn't holding back his relished moans, the guttural noises turning you on even more. He lowered his head to your ear and nibbled lightly while he pushed open your fingers, intertwining them together. "Cumming…mhm!" He kept on thrusting and thrusting, getting sloppier until Zayne buried himself, his everything, into yours.
You let out a choked cry, and Zayne let out a quivering moan in return, his abs and body stiffening as you felt spurts of white hit against your inner flesh. It was hot—and filling you up.
He thrust a little bit more, eager to prolong his ejaculation, but soon after, his body wilted onto yours.
"Honey," you cried, tapping his sweat-riddled back. Your lover was still breathing heavily, a little fuzzy over his climax. "You're heavy…" you whispered in his ear. While he kept himself inside you, as more seconds passed, you felt him go a little softer, with his breathing balanced out. When you turned your head, merely centimeters apart from his—he was fast asleep.
"A lazy day it is," You thought, falling asleep while being crushed underneath your lover's weight.
It was a peaceful morning in your residence.
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Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.
Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |
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misc-obeyme · 3 months
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Side Characters as Doms Headcanons
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And here we are, as requested by multiple anons lol. Yes, this includes the three newbies. I was thinking it was taking me forever to write this part, but actually it's only been a week since I posted the bros? Huh. Anyway. Enjoy!
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GN!MC x the side characters
Demon Bros as Doms Side Characters as Subs
NSFW MDNI
Note: As usual, the warnings on this are off the charts but most of it's just briefly mentioned.
Warnings: Sub!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, shibari, dacryphilia, begging, overstimulation, praise, degradation, humiliation, biting, hickeys, roleplay, orgasm denial, edging, spanking, demon form, tail stuff (Barb you heathen lol), somnophilia, manhandling, collaring, whips, chains, magic stuff (do I even have to say who), aphrodisiacs, multiple orgasms, blood kink, exhibitionism, titles, jealousy, after care, I hope that's it sheesh.
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Diavolo
Doms the same way he interacts with people - generally indulgent, amused, curious, and soft, but push too far and you’re no longer dealing with friendly Diavolo, but the Next Demon King. He prefers to pamper you, but he won’t show leniency to a brat for very long.
He’s also acutely aware of the fact that he is one large, powerful, and strong demon and you are but a fragile human. Even when you’re being punished, he’s gentle with you. His favorite thing to do when you get out of line is to overstimulate you. He wants to hold you in his lap with his fingers inside you, making you come until you cry.
Diavolo is vocal, he spends a lot of time praising you. He’s not really into degradation or humiliation. He wants to tell you how perfect you are for him. He wants to coo in your ear when you’re begging and whining. He’ll call you all sorts of sweet pet names.
Diavolo also likes to dress you up, usually with pretty ropes and a blindfold paired with something like a really expensive necklace. He likes to see his status displayed on you. If you ask for something specific, he’ll buy you the most fanciest and prettiest one he can find.
He also loves to leave his mark on you. His favorite is biting, he’ll be sure to cover you in his teeth marks. He also enjoys sucking on your skin and leaving hickeys all over. Too much bruising stresses him out a little because he’s worried about hurting you too much. But if you’re clearly enjoying it, he’ll keep going.
He won’t do exhibitionism, but he’s okay with close proximity type situations. Actually gets a lock installed on his office door because he really really wants to roleplay with you in there. Sometimes he has a hard time keeping a straight face when doing this, but he manages to school himself. Because he’s waiting for the moment when he can bend you over his desk and lose himself in how good you feel.
Barbatos
Another one who has two modes. Barbatos is a fair dom, but he’s also strict. He’s less indulgent than Diavolo and he’s less hesitant to punish you if you’re being bratty. He has no problem using all forms of punishment and will generally use whatever seems to work best for you. His personal choice is orgasm denial. He’s going to bring you to the edge, maybe multiple times, but never actually allow you to feel that sweet release. If you protest, he’ll just smile and shake his head. It’s meant to be a punishment, MC.
Don’t think that means that’s all he’ll try though. If he finds you respond better to other forms of punishment, he won’t hesitate to switch tactics. Whether he’s spanking you or overstimulating you, you’ll know he means business the second he takes his gloves off.
If you’ve really messed up, though, he won’t even bother with the gloves. That’s when you know you’re really in for it. Barbatos almost never loses his cool, so if you’ve managed to do that, watch out.
He likes to dom in demon form. His tail is useful for all kinds of things, like restraining you or gagging you. It also reminds him of the time when he wasn’t as restrained as he is now. He lets himself go just enough to make things exciting, but not enough that he loses control of the situation.
Barbatos is into just about anything and everything, so if you’ve got some kinda kink, be sure he will use it to his advantage. Oh, you like biting? Good, so does he. Now you're covered in bite marks. Perhaps you enjoy a little somnophilia? It's fine, he enjoys that, too. He'll be sure you're dreaming about his cock.
He likes it when you’re needy and when you beg for him. He can hold back and not touch you at all for a long time, letting you squirm and cry. When he finally does touch you, it’s soft and subtle and almost makes things worse.
Sometimes, he’ll go all out instead. When this happens, you find yourself absolutely exhausted. He’ll make you stay with him the whole next day so he can take care of you. Won’t let you go to RAD or do anything else. He just wants to pamper you.
Simeon
A very gentle and soft dom, Simeon is incredibly indulgent with you. He prefers praise to degradation and he’ll shower you in it. He likes to call you sweet names, too. His favorite thing is just to touch and kiss you. He wants you under him so he can kiss all the way up and down your body, running his fingers along your skin.
You really have to push to get him to punish you at all, but if you go that far, he will put you in your place. You’ll need to brat like no brat has ever bratted to make it happen. But Simeon can quell a bit of a bratty outburst with nothing but a command. When he issues it, there’s a tone in his voice that speaks volumes, even though he’ll still be smiling at you.
If you keep pushing, he will warn you multiple times because he just wants you to be good for him. But eventually, he’ll give you the punishment you so clearly deserve. He doesn’t really have a preference himself, so he’ll do what he thinks will be most effective. He tries different things with you until he finds the one that works.
Surprisingly good at resisting begging. He won’t give in right away if you’re whining and crying in his lap, he’ll let you carry on for a bit first. He likes to listen to your pleas, he thinks you sound so cute.
While he doesn’t particularly enjoy hurting you too much, he does like to manhandle you. He’ll pick you up and move you around as he sees fit. He’s stronger than he looks and he likes to have that control over you. If he puts you into a particular position, you had better not move yourself from it.
Too shy outside the bedroom to allow much of a dynamic there, but he will absolutely give you a Look if you’re acting out. It’s his way of saying you might want to re-evaluate your behavior unless you want to be dealing with the consequences later.
He has a bit of a dark side that you can tap into when you're being really unmanageable. Don't worry, he'll have confirmed your safewords before ever starting anything, so if he's suddenly too much you can use them. But when he flips that switch, you'll find he can be unexpectedly harsh with you. He gets a certain look in his eyes and his voice gets very quiet. You've really decided to push him to his limit, haven't you, MC?
Solomon
Solomon is able to step into dom mode at will and when he does, he’s really good at it. He knows exactly what to do to make your silly little sub heart flutter. He won’t hesitate to keep you in line outside of the bedroom, usually by giving you a little squeeze or even an ominous smile. He likes to have you wear a collar all the time. He’ll corner you somewhere a little out of sight of anyone else, hook a finger into your collar, and whisper words of warning in your ear.
When it comes down to it, Solomon is willing to do anything at all. He’s a pretty fair dom and will always give you space at first to be a little bratty. But it doesn’t take too much to push him and then he’ll deal with you quickly. While he will switch up punishments to whatever works best, he likes spanking. He just wants you to fall apart in his lap.
He will employ anything and everything that will get a good reaction from you. Ropes, whips, blindfolds, gags, etc etc if you can think of it, he will give it a go. He likes to use magic to restrain you, though. If you really have a thing for ropes, he’ll use them sometimes, but his magic is so much more effective. He has all kinds of saucy little spells that make you feel all kinds of sensations~
Solomon wants to make you have multiple orgasms and he will employ aphrodisiac potions to do it if he needs to and if you agree. He just loves to watch you come over and over again. He wants to make your brain stop working for a bit.
He loves to praise you, but he enjoys dirty talk, too. You'll probably get a bit of a random mixture of them.
Solomon also enjoys cockwarming. If he's having a long night in his lab, studying ancient spells, he'll really appreciate you sitting in his lap as long as you can. He loves the way you squirm. He'll tell you to stay still, but the amusement in his tone is evident. If you keep moving like that, MC, he's going to have to do something about it. He won't make you wait too long because in the end, he gets impatient too.
He's very attentive when it comes to after care. He likes to dom and to have fun with you, but he also wants to remind you of how important you are to him. He'll pamper you, hold you close, kiss you, and tell you that you're his everything.
Mephistopheles
By far the meanest of doms. It depends a bit on what you respond to and also what mood he's in, but he's generally not going to give you an inch. Sometimes he's in a softer mood and he'll be a little nicer, but even then it's not by much. He expects you to follow his orders and be grateful about it. When he's like this, he won't tolerate brattiness. If you push, he'll double down and you won't like when that happens. He'll get stubborn and he won't indulge you at all.
He'll use all kinds of methods or punishment, but mostly it’s going to be edging and orgasm denial. He wants you to beg so he can ignore it. He’ll be sure to tell you it’s your own fault for thinking he’d go easy on you.
Mephisto will mostly use dirty talk and degradation, delivering praise only when you’ve really earned it. He likes to see you cry, so he will do everything he can to make that happen. If you do start, that’s the only time he’ll soften just a little. He’ll wipe away your tears and tell you how good you’re being for him.
He has a blood kink. He wants to see your blood on your skin and he will bite you. Leaves all kinds of marks across your body, mostly with his mouth.
He’s into exhibitionism and semi public sex. He gets cocky and wants people to know that you belong to him. Loves it when you wear a collar visibly. Doesn’t hesitate to grab you or whisper threats if he thinks you’re acting out in public.
Despite all this, he gets incredibly soft when it comes to after care. This is when he pampers you. Instead of threats, he's now whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He gets embarrassed about how much you matter to him, so it's easier for him to be mean. He might even confess all this to you in these quieter moments. He'll gently kiss every mark he left on your body. He'll tell you that he hates how much a human matters to him. Don't you see what you've done to him, MC?
Raphael
He's a little skeptical at first. You want him to do what exactly? It isn't that he's innocent, but he's not sure he understands the appeal. Give him some time and he'll fall right into it easily enough. Raphael seems like a strict dom, but he's more lenient than he first appears. He's just quiet, won't give you a lot of orders, really.
He does like to tie you up. Shibari is especially intriguing to him. He likes taking the time to create masterpieces out of rope on your body. He likes the way the ropes leave marks when he finally unties you. He'll kiss along the places where they were, indulging in the feeling of your heated skin.
Raphael might not think of it himself, but he'll lose his whole mind if you use a title for him. Call him Sir or Master and he'll be the one blushing like crazy. He'll be able to control himself, but he'll ask you to do it again.
He's more into praise than anything, he likes to tell you how good you're being. If you're being bad, he gets quiet. You'll know you're in trouble when he's suddenly not talking much. Perhaps giving you short one syllable responses.
Punishments will really be just about anything. It's whatever he's in the mood to do and whatever he thinks will get the message across. Fortunately, he finds that just giving you a certain look is usually enough to quell you. Because you'll find his punishments are quite harsh, so it's better to avoid them. Of course, if you really want to be punished, all you have to do is push a little harder.
Raphael is not super into exhibitionism, but sometimes he feels the need to pull you into an empty room, especially at RAD. He is surprisingly jealous. If he thinks you're getting too cozy with anyone else, he'll make sure you haven't forgotten who you belong to. Do you suppose it's fun to push his buttons that way, MC?
Thirteen
Don't worry, MC. She will absolutely step on you if you want her to. Thirteen is not shy about domming, she will agree immediately. She's willing to do whatever you want - whatever gets you to react. She'll try praise, but if she finds degradation or humiliation work better, she'll switch to that. Either way, though, she likes to keep her hand in your hair, so she can pull it whenever she wants.
She enjoys biting and blood. She will leave her marks on you, whether its with her teeth or her nails. She likes the way it looks on you, but she also likes the sight of your blood on her fingertips.
Thirteen will tie you up, blindfold you, and gag you. She'll make you wear a collar and leash. She will go all out, she's not holding back at all. She expects you to behave and if you don't, she'll deal with you readily.
Punishments can vary, but she likes to watch you squirm. Whatever does that most effectively, gets you crying and begging, that's what she'll go for every time. She'll try spanking, edging, orgasm denial, even stuff like whips and chains. She likes to come up with unique ways to restrain you or punish you, like she does with her traps.
Will not hesitate to use magic on you. Spells, potions, whatever she can find that will have the desired effect. She likes to overstimulate you. She'll use aphrodisiac potions to keep you aroused for hours. She loves to watch you cry and whine and mumble her name because you've forgotten yours.
Thirteen will get jealous and she'll sometimes feel the need to remind you of your place if she thinks you're getting too friendly with someone else. This generally consists of a hand on your arm, a simple look, or a single word. She doesn't need to make a big show of it, but all of those things get you to back off. And you know you'll be hearing about it later.
In the end, she's going to take care of you. She may go all out, but she always ends with praise, soft kisses and caresses. She tells you how good you are, how perfect for her, how much she just wants you to be hers and only hers.
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demon bros as doms | demon bros as subs | side characters as subs masterlist | Thank you for reading!
937 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 6 months
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SPACE CAMP
based off of this
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt, soft dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a night in with alcohol, you and your two closest friends end up playing a game… not knowing what it can turn into.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, drinking, making out, oral (female & male receiving), blindfold, teasing, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, drunk(ish) sex, p in v, slight spit kink, degradation/praising, ass grabbing
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,617
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: SHOUTOUT TO MY CUTESY 🧸 ANON AND ANOTHER ANON FOR MAKING THIS HAPPEN
buckle up everyone. told you it was worth the wait😇
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nick wanted to hang out with madi tonight, leaving you and your two other best friends in your living room.
christopher and matthew sturniolo.
being friends for so long is such a blessing. some friendships either have drama or fall out, but not yours. the three of you are comfortable with doing almost anything together.
who knew that phrase would slap you in the face?
“so what’s this game about?” you ask, chris helping you tie the blindfold.
alcohol decorates the coffee table. there’s no doubt that you guys are a little drunk. “we are going to put on chapstick and you have to guess which flavor it is.”
“so we’re going to make out?” you laugh drunkenly. “cool.”
chris grabs the space camp box that’s on your bookshelf, opens the box, and places the chapstick down. they each grab one, smearing it nicely on their lips so the flavor will be able to pop.
kicking your feet and biting your lip in anticipation, you wait patiently. a hand then cups your cheek, lips smashing into yours. whoever this is kisses soft, lips moving in sync for a few seconds before pulling away.
smacking your lips together, you try to taste it. “watermelon?”
“nice.” matt says, moving out of the way for chris.
this time, the kiss is filled with hunger. your lips making a smacking sound while his tongue enters your mouth.
he stops, and you must admit that that kiss made your brain fuzzy and feel things between your thighs. “i know mint from anywhere.”
mint is easy to guess since the smell is so strong. they chuckle before one speaks.
“let's spruce it up a little” matt asks, looking over at his brother with a smirk on his face. he returns the same one, the triplet telepathy working like a charm.
furrowing your brows, you wait before a pair of hands start to pull down your pants. you bite your lip, the sudden air in the room hitting your clit when your bottoms are completely off.
a presence is felt in front of you, whoever it is blowing on your area. you jolt from it.
“sensitive.” matt points out, nibbling at your inner thighs.
you gasp once his tongue meets your core, licking strands up and down your slit. chest heaving, you squirm and moan softly.
chris smiles down at you, taking a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. matt takes his thumbs to spread your folds wider, causing your arousal to drip all over his mouth and for him to dig deeper.
your hand rests on the back of his neck, purposely leaving him there. you start to moan uncontrollably, leaning your head on the back of the sofa. “matt.” you whine.
somehow, he manages to get his tongue so deep that you can only shiver and gasp from the feeling.
a familiar heat hits your stomach fast, but he pulls away. then, another figure kneels in front of you.
you have a few seconds to catch your breath, but this time you squeal and grip the person’s head.
unlike matt, instead of delving in, he sucks at your bud.
chris.
“oh, chris!” you mewl, your moans more high-pitched. even though they can’t see it, your eyes roll back and also start to water.
holding onto the sides of his head, you rut your hips upward. the way he’s suckling at your needy clit only makes you want more. “mm, chris! please go faster.” you whine, clenching around nothing.
both his tongue and lips continue to suck and lick, your legs opening wider. “you’re going to make me cum!” you moan, rubbing his hair with your fingertips.
just like matt, he pulls away.
“stop teasing me,” you whine, your pussy swollen and red from the edging. you exhale shakily, whining so pathetically. “please. please let me—”
“stop whining.” matt says, kneeling once again to get face to face with your dripping wetness.
it’s like the last time — his tongue moving at an animalistic pace, nose grazing your clit.
he lifts your legs onto his shoulders, the angle letting him hit a new spot.
a tear falls down your cheek, soft sobs and moans coming from your mouth. you’re far too sensitive for this, especially if it’s two people.
going to grab matt’s hair, a hand takes your wrists and lays them on your head, the other hand pulling you in to rest your cheek on his hard-on.
you whimper, another tear leaving your eyelid. “i want to touch him.”
“nah.” chris nonchalantly, caressing your head trying to soothe you from your panting.
mumbling something out of nowhere, matt stops, seeing if he heard you right. “what was that?”
your cheeks flush, nuzzling your head into Chris’s crotch. “daddy.” you whisper. “i need to cum.”
matt’s dick twitches in his pants, the erection only getting harder at your words. chris moved his hips forward from the sudden contact on his dick. the contact in question is your lips.
while matt’s eating you out, you kiss chris’ clothed boner. you moan on it, the vibration not helping his current state of mind.
“s-shit, y/n.” he stammers, throwing his head back. “fuck keep doing that.”
you listen, until the man between your legs hits that one spot inside you that has your toes curled. “i’m close, daddy!” you moan, arching your back with your mouth hanging open. “oh, f-fuck! i’m cumming.”
repeating the phrase rapidly, your legs squeeze in on his head and shake. then, your body unlooses, your orgasm dripping onto his face and the couch.
matt sits on the floor now, scooting back while chris lets go of your hands and takes the blindfold off.
it takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the light, but it hits you when you glance at your two best friends.
getting eaten out is one thing, but getting fucked by them is way different. however, you love the adrenaline of trying something new.
“get on your knees.” matt demands, motioning with his finger.
you listen, slowly making your way to the hardwood floor.
he smirks at how well you listen. “crawl to me.”
blush forms, your face becoming hot. you can’t tell if it’s because you’re embarrassed or because you’re so turned on by both of them.
you swiftly crawl toward matt, chris humming behind you at the way your pussy glistens by your movements.
once you are leveled with matt’s dick, you take off his belt before your hips get gripped. chris arches your back, feeling his tip coating itself with your juices.
you moan, continuing to take matt’s underwear off. chris groans, pushing into you with ease because of how wet you are.
inhaling sharply, you grab matt’s base and move your hand up and down it. he moans, his eyes not leaving contact with yours.
the boy behind you thrusts hard and fast, not having you adjust properly. whimpers leave your lips. man, he’s huge.
you try your best to keep matt occupied, by the pleasure feels so amazing that you stop moving your hand.
instead, you let go and look at him, face contorting in pleasure while moans come out of your agape mouth. “c-can i suck your cock, daddy?” you beg between noises. “i p-promise i’ll suck it good. i wan-want to feel your cock in my mouth.”
without saying a word, he grabs your head a pushes it down. you gag when your nose reaches his pubic bone. he does all the work and bobs your head. all you have to do is sit there and take two dicks.
the vibrations from your sounds vibrate through matt’s body. he smiles smugly, admiring how you’re under their control.
“damn, she’s tight.” chris grunts, grabbing your ass and jiggling it.
“so is this slutty mouth.” matt says, noticing the way you react by rolling your eyes back and moaning louder. “yeah? you like being our little slut?”
his grip tightens on your head and you wince. when your mouth reaches his tip, you spit on it… once, twice, three times before continuing.
matt groans. it’s a filthy sight, but he fucking adores it.
the echo of skin on skin bounces throughout the room, gulping and gagging flooding your ears.
“this is such a good pussy for such a good slut.” chris heaves, reaching between your thighs to rub your clit. your eyes widen, and your legs start to become jelly.
“mmfph clothe.” you try to warn, but for obvious reasons, you can’t.
matt’s balls tighten, immediately shooting his load down your throat. “that’s right.” he grunts, watching the way your hollow your cheeks to keep it in. “swallow it like a cumslut.”
finally being able to breathe again when he pulls out, you gasp for air but it soon turns into a scream when chris abuses that sweet spot.
matt lifts your head by the chin, leaning in to kiss you sloppily. he moans, biting your bottom lip and tugging at it when he tastes himself on your tastebuds.
“fuck yeah.” chris whispers when you start to streak your cream down his dick.
he pulls out, spurting his white on your back. (deep down he wishes he was able to finish inside you.)
you collapse on the ground, the two boys helping clean you and then themselves. after putting their clothes back on, they help you up and sit you back on the couch.
“put the blindfold back on.” matt asks.
your eyes widen, still dazed. “w-why?”
“because princess.” he says, grabbing the fabric and putting it back on your eyes. “we still have one more flavor left. you have a long night ahead of you.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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qlossytbh · 6 months
Text
im so FUCKING stupid and i accidentally forgot to add tags and i deleted the anon request this fic was inspired from so i will paste it here
“Could you please write one about having a team night round Rossi's but you and Spencer had had an argument before so it was tense between the pair of you so you try and flirt with one of the out of town agents to try and get his attention?”
𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧- 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and Spencer don’t usually get along due to your constant fights to prove who was better. But when the two of you are paired on a case together, hidden feelings start to arise towards the surface.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 enemies to lovers type beat (?), academic rivals (?), fem!reader, typical criminal minds content, jealous spence, mentions of a guy that gets a little too handsy
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 4.6k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i get a little carried away with request oops. i don’t think this is exactly what you were asking for but
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It had come to no one's attention that you and Spencer were fighting— again..
The BAU team was currently hunting down a murderer that was attacking teenagers at a local campus in the city of Chicago, and all that Reid seemed to be doing these past few days was getting on your nerves.
Wether it was searching the crime scene, analyzing the possible behavioral patterns of the UnSub, or setting down a profile, you and Reid could not stop bickering, driven solely off the desperation of beating each other with whoever could piss the other off more.
You thought Spencer had this aggravatingly, annoying need to prove he was always so much smarter than everyone else, using his wide variety of big intellectual words just to show off.
He, on the other hand, truly couldn't stand how you'd always butt into every conversation you deemed necessary attempting to seem smarter just to get yourself on top of a case. Your ego had been Spencer's main problem across these past few months, but it was slowly driving him off the wall and he found that with each passing day, he was finding it harder to work with you.
The initial conflict seemed irrelevant right now— something about Spencer purposely embarrassing you in front of the the team back when you had just started out in the BAU. Even if it was unintentional, the anger stuck.
You had been so embarrassed, feeling your insides pool with irritation as you questioned why he felt the necessity to correct you so publicly— in front of people you still didn't know.
With time, it slowly morphed into a constant competition to prove who was smarter, quicker on their feet, more widely intellectual than the other, always finding ways to one up each other in conversations— anything.
You were smart and you couldn’t blame him for seeing you as a competition the second you stepped foot into the BAU.
The rest of the team was growing sick of the two of you always whining and bickering. It could be the smallest, stupidest fights— or something so weighty, the two of you wouldn’t speak for days.
However, the two of you got into a fight yesterday when landing in Chicago.
It had been stupid
It started when you "accidentally" slammed the taxi door in his face, genuinely not realizing he was getting out of the cab on the same side you were, even though a side of you thought he deserved much more than a slammed door to the face.
Later on in the day a heavier argument spewed, given since he accused you of being ‘unprofessional’, which had incredibly pissed you off. It was the one thing that truly got to you, and Spencer knew this.
Since then, none of you had spoken to each other and the rest of the team could practically feel the tension. Hotch rounded the table, pressing his hands together.
"So, let's lay it all out," Hotch announced. "Who's starting?”
You and Spencer both volunteered simultaneously. You shot a glare in his direction, which he easily disregarded as he stood from his seat at the table
"So far, we know were looking for a male between the age of 20-25," You cross your arms across your chest and look over at the board with a huff, accepting your defeat.
Your eyes scanned through the evidence and pictures at hand. While Spencer continued his analysis, hands shoved deep into his pockets, you squinted at the words scribbled onto the case file. "The killer seems to have a target preference given how all four victims have been female college students between the ages of 18-24"
"So, do we know which kind of killer were dealing with here?" Morgan asked, flipping through the case files.
"If I'm not mistaken, the last victim presented a alteration in the Unsub’s M.O in comparison to what we've been observing so far, which could ultimately mean we could be dealing with a disorganized offender acting out on—" He stated, turning towards the board, but when your eye caught a part of information in the file, you were quick to interrupt.
"Actually, you are mistaken," You reached over, grabbing the file in front of you in one swift movement and flipped the page as you stood to your feet. Spencer froze and turned towards you.
"Excuse me?" He inquired, clearly unamused at your antics. You briefly looked up at him, only sparing him a brief glance.
"You're wrong. The Unsub isn't disorganized," You jutted your chin towards the board. "We're actually dealing with an organized offender."
Morgan glanced over at JJ, quietly cursing to himself knowing that this was probably payback and not heading in any favorable direction.
"Sure, this specific victim wasn't as calculated and precise as the other," You started. "Up until now, the Unsub seemed to be killing all of these girls with long, tedious methods, such as torturing them, which clearly shows us he feels no remorse and actually finds pleassure out of killing them. Organized crimes are premeditated and carefully planned, so that would explain why we found little to no evidence at the scene yesterday and organized criminals, according to the classification scheme, can tell right from wrong—"
"—But our buddy here doesn't care," Morgan finished off, looking up at you. With a nod, you continued
"Precisely. The pattern of our victims also leads us to believe that he's seeaking some sort of revenge on the girls, since they're all from the same background." You pointed to a few post-it notes on the board. "Right here it says that all four girls belonged to the same frat house on campus—"
"Yet our recent victim did not," Spencer butted in with a shurg, facing you smugly. With an unamused glance, you took two warning steps towards him, maintaining your composure.
"Well, Dr. Reid, if you read the autopsy report you'd see that the newest victim died from a blunt force to the head," Annoyed was an understatement as to what you were feeling towards him at that precise moment. Your eyes narrowed while you managed to keep on the most innocent smile you could. "That means that the attack was out of some unplanned rage, which caused him to lashout and therefore break his regime."
You took one more step towards Reid, suddenly dangerously close to him. Intimidating people wasn’t something that came hard, much less with Spencer.
Something inside you fed off that vast satisfaction that arose when he'd get activated with you. Seeing his breaths go shallow, his whole posture to stiffen along with the habitual furrow in his brows felt like your daily dosis of serotonin.
"If you payed more attention to these case files, you'd also see that the newest victims was our previous victims best friend, so there still is a connection just not the one you've been blindly looking for.”
With that you slapped the files into his chest and stepped back, referring back over to the board.
Spencer gapped at you, opening his mouth before clamping it shut immediately. He fumbled, grappling at the papers on his chest and looking down at them in embarrassment. You felt yourself smile with satisfaction at how his movements became sloppy. "I— I would've said that if you let me finish my analysis and let me actually read these papers."
"Or you can just admit you're slow—"
"So!" JJ butted in, quickly cutting off whatever fight was about to implode in-front of them. "We’re looking for someone connected throughout the campus that would somehow want some sort of revenge on these girls? Correct?"
"Yes." You and Spencer stated simultaneously. You bit back a comment, swiping your tongue against your lower lip, annoyance filling every single nerve in your body while he let out a noise similar to a scoff.
"Here's the plan then," Hotch said, ignoring the two of you. "Prentiss and I will give the Chicago police force the profile. Morgan and JJ, deal with collecting possible witnesses; anyone at that campus who knows anything that may deem useful."
You stood, glancing over at Spencer. When he met your eyes you quickly looked away, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.
"Reid, Y/L/N," Hotch said, finally acknowledging the two of you with a steady gaze. "You two will assigned search the crime scene to see if any evidence was left behind—just protocol checking, but we need to be sure nothing was left unseen."
You opened and closed your mouth, intending to protest about the pairing but deciding strongly otherwise.
With the intention to remain professional you nodded in agreement. As hard as you found to do so, you waited patiently for the other members of the team to draining the room until only you, Morgan, JJ, Spencer were left collecting the remaining of your things.
As Morgan was grabbing a few of his things with JJ patiently waiting by his side, you walked up to her with a devious smile. "Hey Jayj, wanna change partners?"
"I am right here." Spencer answered.
"I dont care," You shot back, causing him to angrily shove more of his files into his satchel. You turned back to Morgan, practically ready to get onto your knees and beg him for sympathy. "Please Morgan, trade with me— I'm begging you."
"We don’t get to choose who we get paired with,” He started, looking down at you unamused. Your face fell, deadpanning at your friend.
“If you're going to complain about being paired with Reid none of us wanna hear it," Morgan groaned, dragging a hand across his face. You opened your mouth to protest, but he rudely cut you off by pointing an accusitory finger at you. "The two of you have been yapping at eachother faces since we got here."
"We have not!" You both shouted in unison. You angrily turning around to face Spencer, warning him with a glare. “Stop that!"
"It's always something with the two of you," JJ shook her head in disappointment. "You're lucky you two are the smartest members on the team cause we would've had you seperated months ago,"
JJ finished grabbing her things and glared at the two of you. Morgan grabbed his things as well, before turning to you. "Either you sort out all of this sexual tension you've got going on or you keep your mouths shut and get along!"
"What!?" You gaped, taking aback by Morgan's accusations. "Thats not—We dont—"
You fumbled with your words as your cheeks grew hot. You stammered, trying to hit back with something, but inevitably found your mind blank. You huffed, snatching your bag and rushing towards the exit of the conference room "I hate you."
"No you don't princess." Morgan stated as you walked past him and shoved his arm.
"And you boy genius," Morgan said looking at Spencer and tossed her bag across her shoulder. "That goes for you too, either get laid, or shut up."
With that, they left the room leaving a sputtering and angry Spencer struggling to regain his composure after the absurdity that had left his collegues mouth. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grabbed his final things, leaving the room in a frenzy.
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You pulled the cars ignition once you pulled the car into the Campus buildings entrance. You put the car in park as you umblucked your seatbelt, which Spencer started doing not long after you had, following your suit. The ride had been completely silent, none of you wanted to speak to eachother, worrying that if you did another argument would start.
All he did during the ride was read some of the case files while you intently focused on the road. Your hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel and every once and a while you'd sneak small glances at him— not because you cared or anything, you just wanted to see how much more information he was getting ahead of you with.
The building was secluded off to the public and the entrance was swarmed with countless police officers and agents. As you climbed out of the car, you pulled your glasses onto the top of your head and slammed the door in one swift motion. By the time you got to Spencers side of the door, he was still inside slowly collecting his things, which pissed you off. You waited impatiently for him to climb out with a huff.
For what seemed to feel like forever, he finally opened the car door and started to climb out as you waited impatienly. "You look like you're doing that on purpose."
"Getting out of the car? Yeah, I am actually" He stated, finally stepping out. A snide remark came up your throat but wasn't able to leave your mouth given how Spencer towered over you once he strightened himself out.
He unintentionally stepped way too close for your personal preference, but your boundaries melted somewhere in your consciousness.
You craned your head back just slightly, allowing yourself to look into his eyes. Spencer swallowed thickly, suddenly painfully aware of how close the two of you were. An unfamiliar voice reeled the two of you back to reality. "Dr. Y/L/N?"
You practically jumped, swallowing down the urge to yelp. You stepped away from Spencer, blinking rapidly as you cleared your throat. "Uh yes!—“
"Thats, uhm, me—“ You slipped your glasses off and put them into your bag anxiously. "Dr. Y/L/N."
You turned to the Agent in front of you, who held his hand out with an irksomely pearly white smile. You gazed at the man, and you had to admit he was easy on the eyes— a little too stereotypically attractive for your taste.
"I'm Agent Mirthwood, head of the Chicago police department, Aaron Hotchner specified you'd be here to help with the case," You took his hand and shook it. "Wasnt expecting a doll like you."
Spencer didnt miss the way his eyes raked across your body, taking in every part of you with careful detail. You were wearing a silk black button up, along with a blazer that matched the skirt that hugged your skin tightly. Spencer would have to be blind to ignore how every piece of clothing you had on hugged every inch of your curves perfectly, so obviously, whoever this guy was, he was going to be staring.
How couldnt he?
You laughed nervously and Spencer, despite his profiler background, couldn't tell if it was becasue you were uncomfrotable or flattered. Either possibilities made his skin crawl.
"Charming," You noted, not really wanting to give him any more material to chew at. "So, mind leading the way?"
"Not at all." He grinned, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the building. Spencer followed behind pathetically, feeling his hands clench and his jaw tighten while he watched the guys hand linger where they didn't belong.
Once inside the building, you and Spencer looked around your surroundings, checking over a few areas of the marked numbers and rerunning the supposed series of events in your heads. "This is where the first victim tried escaping,"
You and Spencer simultaneously looked over to the glass window that had been merely cracked. "Can't believe how a murder took place and the campus director didn't even close the place down for more than five days."
"Agent Mirthwood, you said that the floor above us was where Anya Colins was murdered, correct?" You asked, looking over towards the locker. Spencer stood beside you with his hands shoved into his pocket.
"Over in classroom seven, yes” He responded. His eyes flickered towards the pop of your hip. “Call me Ben,"
You looked over your shoulder momentarily, shooting him a polite smile. Spencer bored his eyes into the side of the agents face, slyly enough so that he wouldn’t notice.
"Could it be possible that we take a look across the flooring, you know, check inside any of the clases for some clues we may have missed?" You said, lifting your chin and facing Agent Mirthwood. He smiled bumptiously at you.
"Why I'd be delighted to accompany you and help you look out for whatever it is you're looking for—"
"Actually," Spencer butted in, somewhat protectively if you let yourself assume— given how the tone of his voice had grown territorial. "Hotchner specifically implied we stick together as the pair we were assigned, and we usually work best when just the two of our heads are looking around."
You furrowed your brows, looking up at Spencer with confusion. His tone alarmed you momentarily, and at first you wanted to grow defensive because who was he to boss you around?
You took in the familiar line-out of his clenched jaw and how his shoulders broadened ever so slightly. You noticed he had chosen to stand between you and Agent Mirthwood, and suddenly it dawned you and hit you harder than a ton of bricks.
Spencer Reid was jealous.
Despite the weird feeling nagging at your chest, you couldn't contain how a smug smile began to appear onto your face. Somehow this newfound information cave you a newfound cockiness— you finally found something you knew had the upper hand on.
"Actually Ben," You dodged Spencer, making a B-line for the broad man you had only recently met. You tried looking as innocent as you possibly could, the look you always used to get men right into the corner you needed them in. "I'd actually love having your company. I'm gonna need someone watching over me up there."
Spencer froze, looking back and forth as the darkness in this guys eyes only increased and suddenly— he panicked. Spencer was panicking because he genuinely thought you were going to leave with Agent Mirthwood and he wouldn't be able to watch over you or him, or anything you did with him—
Then he saw it. The way you turned, shooting him a challenging glare over your shoulder towards him.
"You wouldn't mind, would you Dr. Reid?"
“I—“ His fists tightened as he stared at you, stunned. Something underneath his gaze was warning you that you were pushing him close to his limits and you loved it.
“One of the victims was attacked up there and then dragged herself all the way down here,” You watched the agent explain broadly.
“That must’ve been horrible,” You added an almost feather like gasp to your words. He knew damn well that you knew what this officer was saying was nothing but false due to how the crime scene was framed.
“Yeah,” Ben took a step closer to you and Spencer couldn't even stop himself when he pried through, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him territorially.
“Bosses order. The rest of you keep looking around to see if anything looks out of place."
Spencer dragged you all the way up the stairs and into the empty hallway on the second floor. You struggled to keep up, complaining pretty vocally that your heels were screwing up your rhythm, especially in comparison to his long and hurried strides. You finally dug the palm of your foot into the ground and yanked your arm away.
"What the hell is your deal!?" You clamored, knowing you had him cornered. He turned, pushing his lips into a straight line and looking at you in complete silence.
“My deal!?" He shot back suddenly, gesturing towards you in an exasperated motion. “You barely know the man and you're willing to walk somewhere with him alone..!”
You scoffed. "Oh please, like coming up here with you is any better."
"You don't run the risk of getting potentially murdered by me." He said, trying to prove his point.
"You sure about that?"
Spencer looked at you and something shifted behind his eyes. Your face was furrowed with nothing but pure anger as you huffed widely. Spencer opened his mouth and closed it once again, hesitating whether to say what he was about to.
"You're being unprofessional." He blankly stated. Your mouth fell agape.
There was that fucking word again— You felt about ready to murder him. There was adrenaline coursing through every nerve of your body at this point.
“What did you say?” You almost whispered.
“I said you’re being unprofessional.” He stated nonchalantly. You gaped at him before tightening your fist and resisting the urge to punch the crap out of that smug look.
“I’m unprofessional?!”
“Yes,”
“That’s because you’re making it hard for me to work with you!”
He rolled your eyes at you and became indignant.
“Stop doing that!” You barked.
“Im not doing anything,”
“You keep treating me like im stupid,” You pointed a finger at him. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me when you are not.”
Spencer clamped his mouth shut, seeing you blaze with anger. “Ben would be a way better company than you,”
“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”
You huffed. “Like what?”
“Like—“ Spencer stopped, sucking in a sudden breath as if he hasn’t been breathing since he walked up here with you. “Never mind,”
You scoffed. “No come on,”
You took a dangerous step towards Spencer, now only a few inches away from his face. “Say it,”
“Because I think Ben, pissed you off the most when he had his hands on my—“
Spencer quickly grabbed your face in between both his hands and slammed his mouth onto yours. You inhaled visiously through your nose as you melted immediately under his touch.
Everything froze right then and there as he pulled away quicker than he had leaned in. Your face still remained cupped gently in his hands while your grip was tight on both his wrists as you stared at him, mouth low in shock. A shaky breath left his mouth, and fear was pooling around in his eyes.
You could feel your own chest heaving as you looked back and forth at his eyes, still not grasping what had just happened between the two of you. Spencer towered over your small frame, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the room. It felt like there was a rope pulling between the two of you and it was right about to break. His thumb grazed your bottom lip and you could practically hear the chord snap.
All the anger drained your body instantly as you caught yourself pulling him onto your mouth with just as much desperation as he had previously done. Your movements were hurried and frantic, as if both of you were scared that at any point this new found standing point would stop disappear and distance would be put between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was for his body to be any farther away from you than it currently was, and not understanding why you suddenly felt that way, angered you even more.
His mouth hungrily moved against yours as his grip on your face tightened. Your hands snaked their way into the back of his soft curls and pulled at them roughly, emitting a groan from his mouth onto yours.
Out of all the times you'd provoked a groan from Spencer Reid, this had been your all time favorite.
In frantic movements, Spencer pushed you against the nearest wall, hearing a rough thud come from behind you but never once disconnecting your lips from his. His hips pushed against your in one rash motion, causing you to whimper softly against his lips, which reached the deepest parts of him
His hands traveled anywhere and everywhere you'd let them. They ran down your waist and stopped at your hips giving them a rough squeeze which only caused you to squirm once again and pull at his hair ever rougher.
Everything was messy and hurried but so unexplainably wonderful.
"Tell me to stop and I will," He muttered over your lips.
"Don't—“ You warned, panting desperately for him to grab you in ways you could have only dreamt about. You needed to feel his hands rake across your body as if he owed it. “Please, don’t”
Spencer’s heart shuddered as he could visibly hear the desperation in your voice. How you were practically begging for this just as much as he had been. How you melted under his touch so effortlessly.
Before Spencer could move any further, a voice cut the two of you off. “Hey, guys!”
You pushed Spencer off yourself with a little more urgency than you had initially intended. You ran your hands through your hair frantically and pushed your skirt down, which had accidentally— not so accidentally— been pushed up. Spencer on the other hand, settled with a simple, subtle gesture of grazing the corner of his lip to remove some of the nude pink lipstick that had smudge a bit onto his face.
He cleared his voice before turning to whoever had called out, but before he could say anything you quickly interjected. “Morgan? JJ? What are you doing here?”
Spencer could’ve allowed himself to smile at the sound of the quiver in your voice and how your body was still distraught by the adrenaline.
Morgan eyed the two of you and it didn’t take any time at all for him to realize what had happened. The shuffled hair, the puffy lips along with all the wrinkled clothes. Not to mention how both of your chests heaved heavily.
“We have an advance on the case but it seems like you two are busy with something…” JJ stated, looking over at Morgan from the side of his eye.
“Or someone,” He added. You tried to find some sort of defense in your favor but came up with none. You didn’t want to even look Spencer in the eye, so you quickly turned and headed for the staircase, when you approached Morgan, he whistled lowly.
“Someone got a piece of genius boy and enjoyed it—“ You smacked the back of his head.
“Hey!” He groaned, looking back at you while you strutted down the stairs, barely being able to keep your balance steady.
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i am planing on doing a spicy part two😝
1K notes · View notes
suskz · 4 months
Note
reader x hyunjin based on the last skz code where they went camping - he looked so hot working on that tent 😯💨 - , going with the boys since it was all minho idea, reader doesn't like camping but she likes him so, building tension up bc that's hot too, and maybe he could switch places with reader's bff and sneak into their's tent? 🖤
pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
t/w: friends to lovers ; Hyunjin is a flirt ; fluff ; a little suggestive.
w/c: 2.1k
a/n: it was fun to write! And yeah, Hyunjin really looked hot (I mean, he always is). The way he rolled his sleeves up omg, I couldn’t not write this. Hope you like this, anon!
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↳ Reader has with the members the same friendship they have with each other.
"I hate this." Jiwoo complains as she drops the bag she was holding to the ground.
"Come on!" You try to cheer her up, "It's nice to be out in nature sometimes!"
She shoots you a glare, "That's easy to say," she says bitterly, "You hate camping more than I— hey!" she exclaims when you nudge her arm with your elbow, silencing her.
"I love camping." You lie loudly, with the boys just a few meters away from you.
"I can't say the same." Changbin comments, slapping his arm to kill a mosquito.
And suddenly, an arm falls around your shoulders. You turn towards the person who has come up next to you and see Hyunjin, unconsciously shrinking under his close presence, "I agree with Y/nie, a bit of fresh air away from the city is nice."
A small smile forms on your lips.
"You say that because you have no intention to help with anything." Chan chimes in, opening one of the bags he carried.
"Clever of you to assume that." Hyunjin responds, smiling.
"That's why Hyunjin will help set up the tent." Minho states, biting back a smile.
"Huh? I don't know how!" Hyunjin complains, taking his arm off your shoulders and moving closer to the older guy.
You regret that the contact was so short, but you maintain your composure and watch him walk away.
"You'll learn." Minho closes the conversation in a tone that allows no reply.
“You need to pump it?” Hyunjin asks, looking for the pump to inflate the tent.
You watch him curiously, seeing him search non-stop for a while.
“Did you find it?” Minho asks him, watching in disbelief. There are only 5 bags, how can he not have found it yet?
He starts to approach him, but you are quicker.
“They have accessories here.” Hyunjin says in a pouty, hopeless voice, closing a bag. He turns to continue searching but almost falls to the ground from the jump he makes when you suddenly stand up in front of him, very, perhaps too, close.
You hand him the pump that you found in a few seconds, “You suck at finding things.”
He puts a hand on his heart, opening his mouth and sighing slowly with closed eyes, as if he has just seen a ghost, “You scared me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatic behaviour, “Don’t thank me.” You say sarcastically.
He smiles, his front teeth slightly showing behind his slightly parted lips, “Thank you, Y/nie.” He blows you a kiss for show. You are used to this, yet you blush, while he bends down to attach the pump nozzle to the tent opening.
“Do you need help with that too?” you tease, smirking, trying to hide the visible blush coloring your cheeks from yourself, since he can't even see you.
“Huh?!” He stands up and rolls up the sleeves of the baggy t-shirt he’s wearing, showing his muscles, “I don’t need your help, these are enough for me.” He flexes his biceps.
You like them, don’t you? You think he’s cool, right? Hyunjin hopes so.
You chuckle at his words while he gets to work to really show what he’s capable of as you return to Jiwoo, who needs help with setting up your tent.
You don’t even realise you've been distracted watching him the whole time, as his muscles contract with the effort of pushing the pump handle, and soon small drops of sweat start to trickle down them.
Your eyes are fixed on the way his hands roll up the sleeves each time they unroll and on the way he lifts his head and pulls his hair back with one hand when it bothers him too much and prevents him from seeing. It almost seems like he does it on purpose so your eyes never leave him.
But someone's hand rests on your shoulder, waking you up. “He’s really handsome, isn’t he?” Minho smirks and holds back a laugh when you turn to look at him, blushing and trying to stammer out a response, but he stops you right away, “Wipe off all the drool you’ve spilled first.” He chuckles and walks away with your eyes on him, shaking his head slowly, amused.
Just then, you hear the sound of someone falling to the ground, and when you turn, you see Hyunjin sitting from exhaustion. His breathing is heavy, and pained sounds and light groans leave his lips, the heat of the sun making everything worse, while Jisung takes his place to finish inflating.
His friend hands him a black tank top to wear instead of the sweat-soaked shirt he has on, and that's what Hyunjin does.
He takes off the white t-shirt and uses it to wipe off the sweat covering his body. And once again, it seems like he does it to show off so that you watch and can’t take your burning eyes off him, off his body. But deep down, you know it’s not like that, and this thought forces you to immediately look away when his eyes meet yours, amused. It’s a quick contact, it lasts little but says a lot.
And you have to use all the self-control you have in your body not to set your eyes on that tight black fabric that perfectly hugs his body, making his muscles appear more tense and defined.
“That’s better.” he sighs with relief, soon returning to work and starting to add the stakes.
The silence is filled with the sounds of hammers, and you don't notice when he moves away from the group.
When you stand up after finishing setting up the tent, you look around, confused by his absence. “Where's Hyunjin?” you ask Jiwoo, who is taking out lights from a bag to use as decoration.
“He went for a walk over there; there's a river a bit further from here.” She points in a direction with the index finger of her free hand.
“Oh.” you nod in understanding.
Only a few seconds of silence pass before she speaks again, “Go to him, he's alone; I'll take care of decorating the tent.” It's written all over your face, what you want to do. She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes and winks at you instead.
And you don't need to be told twice.
When you arrive at the spot, you search for him with quick, darting glances. “Hyunjin?” you call out before finding him lying on a large rock with his hands on his belly and his eyes closed.
He didn't answer, so you gather that he's sleeping. You slowly approach him, trying not to make any noise, and sit down next to his sleeping body.
You look at his serene face and can almost hear his calm breath and sense the steady beats of his heart.
The place itself is very quiet. It's cozy, isolated from everyone else, and intimate.
You glance around a couple of times with furtive eyes, but you end up realising that you're alone. Then you look at him, his slightly parted inviting plump lips. You bring your face close to his almost instinctively, faces so close that you can feel his warm breath on your own lips, but then you pull away.
What are you trying to do? It's wrong and stupid. If someone saw you, it would be a mess.
And if you had done it, he would have noticed, because he's awake.
Your ears burn, your cheeks flushed with shame and guilt when his eyes open.
He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, looking at you with distant irises, wrapped in thoughts, then he sits up, raising his torso.
"I heard you calling me but I didn't feel like answering.” he tries to smile to tease you, but what comes out is more of a grimace. You pretend not to notice though, lying to him as well as to yourself.
"I knew it, that's why I've been sitting in silence." You smirk, trying to push away the shame and alleviate the strange tension that has arisen.
However, the situation changes so quickly. There is still tension between the two of you, but it is different with his hand holding your chin and his thumb slowly, intensely stroking your lower lip. Intense, too, is the look his burning eyes give to your rosy lips.
When your eyes meet, his movements stop, and it’s difficult for you to tell what he is thinking. The eyes are the reflection of the soul, he likes to say, but at the moment his do not reflect much.
And then, he pulls away from you. His gaze, his hand, a moment later are no longer on you.
He stands up, "You had something on your lips." He looks around, normal, apparently enjoying the scenery.
You touch your lips, embarrassed, "Oh."
He looks at you and chuckles softly, sitting back next to you with a now more serene air.
One of his arms rests on your shoulder in a friendly gesture, trying to get as close to you as possible.
"I like this place, it's quiet and relaxing," he says. "I want to paint it."
"Hey lovebirds!" You hear someone say from just a bit further away from you. You immediately recognize it's Jisung's voice, who has joined you. "Get a room."
Hyunjin chuckles, and you try to do the same, but your mind is clouded by the memory of his gesture.
The fact that he didn't stop you when you tried to get closer to his lips, the way he touched yours with his thumb.
These images still flash in your mind while everyone else sleeps. You touch your lips with two fingers almost unconsciously, smiling sadly.
But apparently, you're not the only one lost in thought, as the entrance to the tent is opened and the little lamp in between you and Jiwoo is turned on. The latter gets up and leaves, letting someone else in.
And how could you not recognize that head of dark hair making its way inside, closing the entrance zipper after murmuring a 'thank you' and receiving a nod in response.
"Hyunjin? What are you doing here? It's late." you ask him, but receive no answer.
You receive no answer because instead, his lips crash against yours in a needy gesture.
Your eyes widen at the sudden gesture, but you don't push him away, not even when his lips start moving on yours shortly after. Instead, you reciprocate.
It's desperate. Your movements aren't even in sync, but it's okay. It's perfect like this; you couldn't ask for anything better.
One of his hands rests above your ear, caressing it so delicately that you barely even notice, as if you’re made of porcelain.
You break the kiss with quick breaths and uncontrollable heartbeats, emotions finally laid bare.
"I've wanted to kiss you for so long." he admits in a whisper, looking into your eyes.
You find the strength to speak, albeit lightly, "Today by the river… I didn't just watch you." You admit, and you can't help the hint of embarrassment you feel in saying those words to him.
"I know, and I hoped so much that you'd do what you were about to do, but you stopped." His smile doesn't falter for a moment. "You didn't have anything on your lip; I just used it as an excuse to touch you. I actually wanted to kiss you, but when I looked into your eyes, I didn't have the courage." He confesses.
"And here you are now." You chuckle.
He huffs a chuckle, "It wouldn't have been like this if you hadn't tried to kiss me first."
“Now I wish I hadn’t stopped earlier today, by the river.” you say, lowering your eyes to his lips and then back to his, licking your own lips. “I’ve always thought you have nice lips and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, you know?”
“Now you know,” he says happily. “Or do you need to explore a little more?”
You don’t even need to answer; he already knows the response. And once again, your lips are on each other’s, in a kiss that quickly becomes fast and hungry.
Your hands roam over each other’s bodies, fingers tangled in hair, hands gripping cheeks, hips, ending up on thighs.
Your breaths are fast, and the tent heats up. You’re so lost in each other that you don’t realise you’re not being very quiet anymore.
It’s Changbin’s voice that wakes you up and makes you pull away. “Could you guys keep it down a bit?” he shouts from a couple of tents away from yours.
“If you two don’t let me sleep or wake me up at any hour of the night, I’ll put you in the air fryer.” Minho’s voice intervenes right after, annoyed.
You and Hyunjin lock eyes and then laugh silently.
“At least we’ll be put together.”
741 notes · View notes
lcriedlastnight · 3 months
Note
Y/n thinks Lando wants nothing to do with her so she goes on a date with someone else and Lando angrily comes to crash it
amazing idea! thanks for your request anon! also i listened to this song while i wrote this and i think it goes so well!
tw: fem!reader, swears, miscommunication i think, idk lmk if you want me to add anything.
w/c: 1.7k
"this is actually exciting! how long as it been since you've been on a date?" your friend asks as she curls a piece of your soft hair around her hair curler. you shrug, a little embarrassed at how long it has been since someone had asked you out. you had invited your best friend to come over and help you get ready. it was some guy called jamie that had asked you out and you were almost certain he was an engineer in the mclaren garage.
so when you both hear a knock at the door two hours before he was supposed to pick you up, you are both in a tizzy. your friend almost burned your neck with the scorching hot curling wand. you throw the nearest thing you can find over the top of your - quite revealing- top. it happens to be a black t-shirt lando had left at yours the last time he had stayed over.
the british driver was the sole reason why you had never been on a date with a guy for a whole two years. you had been friends since his f1 debut but just shy of a year ago, things progressed between the two of you. lando had gotten second in his home race and he was over the moon. you had finally been able to make it to the race, your work schedule finally clearing up in your favour for the first time in a while. to make an incredibly long and complex story short, you had ended up friends with benefits. your agreement had lasted up until last week. the rules were you two had to end things before seeing anyone else but you were to stay friends no matter what and of course, lando had found some girl he wanted to take out so he broke things off. it broke you. you knew falling for lando was a stupid thing to do and you really did try not to but it was difficult, he was lando, he was one of your best friends for a reason. so when jamie asked you out, you had jumped at the chance to try and get over your curly haired best friend.
you open the door to see none other than lando on the opposite side.
"hey, you look good, where you going?" he asks as he walks past you and into your apartment. you roll your eyes at him letting himself in. what was even the point of knocking in the first place?
"she's got a date and we're in the middle of getting ready right now." your friend sasses lando as she emerges from your room, her 'getting ready' playlist, as she had dubbed it, was still blaring in the room. lando looks up at you from his spot on your couch. his eyes narrow.
"a date?" the boy questions. you furrow your brows, unsure at what he is trying to get at.
"yes. a date. you know, like the one you went on last week? one of those." your a little teasing as you throw your words at him. lando rolls his eyes.
"yeah yeah i know what a date is, i'm just confused. i didn't know you were looking to date?" lando says and you were probably making it up but you swore you could sense some hurt in his voice. yeah there was no way that lando was hurt that you were going on a date, he had literally done the same thing and broken it off with you to do so, last week!
"i'm not looking to date. i got asked out and i said yes." you explain even though you don't really need to explain yourself. lando didn't with you.
"you never say yes. who asked you out?" lando interrogates you, it annoyed you to no end.
"does it really matter? i think he's nice. i never asked you all these questions when you went out on your date last week, did i?" you roll your eyes, walking back over to your friend, silently letting her know you wanted to go back through to your room to get ready and to fet away from lando. you don't wait to listen to see if lando responds - he doesn't anyway, keeping quiet. he knew you were right. it was wrong to act like this, to act jealous of this guy, not when you guys weren't even serious. not that you seen it that way. to you, lando was just being protective.
you sit back down with a sigh, while your friend returns to curling your hair. your friend tries to distract you from whatever just happened with lando as you turn the music up and try to get excited for your date. it gets a little hard when there is a lull in the conversation between the two of you and your mind starts working overtime. you start to wonder if lando would even want anything to do with you after him and this girl get closer. you have always dreaded the day one of lando's girlfriends would want you two to create some distance between you both. you had a sneaky feeling that it would be sooner rather than later.
the timing is perfect as you hear several knocks at your door just as your spraying your favourite gucci perfume lando had gotten you from christmas. even going on a date with someone else, lando was with you the whole time. you answer the door with a smile on your face, jamie returning it.
your friend and lando are sat on your couch watching a random show lando had put on while waiting for you to get ready. he did want to apologise but your date was here and he would rather do it just the two of you anyway. when the brunette seen it was one of the mclaren engineers, he feels the anger swell up inside of him. that should be him, lando had finally realised in that moment, lightbulb lighting up in his brain.
you go off with jamie, his arm interlocked with yours. he takes you to some fancy restaurant not too far away. he talks the full time about his job as an engineer and how exciting it was moving from race to race with the mclaren drivers. he babbles on and on about how he has been interested in motorsports since he was a child and how working with an actual formula one team had been his dream since forever. all the guy spoke about was himself. not once asking you about yourself or your own job. you had tried to get a word in but it was difficult when he just did not stop talking about himself since you both had sat down. the only time he was not talking was when his mouth was full of food.
you had gotten maybe halfway through your main course before you hear heavy footsteps heading towards your general direction. jamie is still talking away about how he got his degree and how amazing school was for him like you were actually listening and if he even spared a glance in your direction then he would be able to tell by your face that absolutely were not, in any way shape or form, listening. you probably had not even taken a word in since before the starters.
the footsteps get closer until they stop at your table. you look up and your eyes meet lando's furious ones. you were confused as to why he was angry but you were sure you were both (and maybe the entire restaurant) were about to find out.
"what the fuck are you doing?" lando asks you. this finally made jamie stop talking. you could kiss lando for many different reasons, the main one being he looked hot when he was angry.
"me? what am i doing?" you ask. lando nods his head. "i'm on my date. the one i said i was going on."
lando scoffs. "with one of my engineers? you're doing this to get back at me for ending things." lando straight up accuses you. you gasp up at him, dumbfounded. this causes jamie to speak up again and ask "you two were a thing? i didn't know," he looks at lando "seriously, man i didn't know, she didn't say anything. if i knew i would never have asked her out."
lando just stares at the man. his hand then digs into his pocked and fishes out his wallet, throws cash down on the table, grabs your hand pulling you out of your chair and drags you out the restaurant. once outside and away from anyone, you pull your hand out of his grasp.
"what are you doing? i told you i was going on a date! you have no right to act like this!" you shout at him, finger pointing at him.
lando's eyes roll. "yeah but you didn't mention it was with someone i work with. you are clearly trying to get back at me for going on a date with that girl and ending things with you." lando accuses you again.
"how is that me getting back at you? i already told you i don't care who you want to date. kiss who you want i couldn't care less." you lie straight to his face and lando can tell straight away. instead of arguing about it with you though. he mumbles "i wanna kiss you." then pushes you against the brick wall, gently before his lips are attacking yours. he leaves little nips and bites as he kisses you harshly. letting a bit of his frustrations because of the lost time between the two of you, out in the kiss. you kiss back just and hard. your hands clutch at his shirt as he holds your hips in place against the wall. lando pulls away panting, his forehead resting on yours.
"m'so sorry. i couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else. then i realised that's probably how you felt with me too, then i just had to see you and stop you from spending anymore time with him." lando explains, a little guilty. you smile as you let your hand come up to stroke his eyebrow gently.
"he was a fucking bore anyways." you tell lando who laughs as he leans in for another kiss.
919 notes · View notes
surftrips · 9 months
Note
luke x daughter of aphrodite!! maybe a super cute fluff where they help luke show percy around and just their experience with percy!
-🥽 anon
stop this prompt is soo cute ! thanks for sending it in &lt;3
"You okay?" Luke asked the newest camper in his cabin.
"Super."
"We all have them, you know." Luke clicked his tongue. "Intense, recurring nightmares. That's normal here. For the first time in your life, you're just like everyone else."
"So are you also... Do you not know who your..." the blonde boy began to ask.
"Am I unclaimed?" Luke shook his head. "No, Hermes is my father. That doesn't matter though, we're all on the same team here."
"Why is it okay they ignore some of us?"
"Spend too much time figuring out what the gods do whatever it is they do, you'll drive yourself crazy. Sooner you can stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer."
"And what's that?"
Luke smiled, guiding Percy out the door to show him the rest of camp.
The two boys ran into Clarisse and the Ares kids first. Luke explained to Percy that the Ares kids were always confrontational and brutally honest, but he had nothing to worry about, as long as he was around.
"Come on, let's go figure out what you're good at."
After crossing off archery and metalworking, and dodging several near death experiences, they sat down for lunch.
"Is there a Greek god of disappointment?" Percy sighed.
"We're gonna find the thing you're good at, I know it," Luke reassured him. "We should try-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Luke's eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face, causing Percy to turn around.
A girl came over to Luke's side of the table and kissed the top of his head. "Hi, love."
Luke beamed, turning toward Percy. "Y/N, this is Percy, I'm giving him the tour. Percy, Y/N. She's in Aphrodite."
That much he could tell, Percy thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.
"Ah, bonjour! Comment ça va?" she asked him.
Percy looked confused, only recognizing the first part of the sentence. "Uhhh... hello?"
Y/N smiled softly, "Guess he's not in Aphrodite then. Any luck finding out your skill, Percy?"
"No, unforunately," Percy grumbled.
"Aw, don't worry. Soon enough you'll be like Luke here," she had moved to sit in his lap by now, one of his arms curled around her waist. "Did you know he's the best swordsman at camp?"
She looked at Luke proudly, Percy swore he saw hearts instead of pupils in her eyes.
"I think it's come up once or twice," Percy responded.
The Aphrodite girl smiled again, "Have you shown Percy the lake yet?" she asked Luke.
"No, not yet. Do you want to come with us?"
"You mean, do I want to show him the place where we met? Is that even a question?"
The trio finished up their food and headed back outside. Y/N led the way, her presence enough to clear a path in the group of campers idling outside. Luke and Percy followed a few feet behind her.
"So... how long have you two been...?" Percy asked shyly.
"Three years. Since we were 16," Luke responded. Though Percy had only known Luke for about a day at this point, he couldn't help but notice how Luke's entire demeanor had changed since Y/N's arrival.
"Oh, wow. That's a long time."
"I got really lucky."
"What do you mean?"
"Before I got here, I had nobody. I mean, there was Annabeth and Thalia, but they're like my sisters. Y/N was the one that showed me what love is."
"Is that what you meant earlier? About enjoying what this place has to offer?"
He smiled. "You might be surprised, Percy."
"Are you boys coming or not?" Y/N called back toward them.
"Yes, ma'am!" Luke yelled back, jogging up to where she was. They were almost at the lake by then.
"So, Percy, anyone at camp catch your eye yet?" Y/N asked, her hand wrapped around Luke's arm.
"Babe, he just got here." Luke said.
"So? I knew I liked you the second we met."
Luke blushed, caught off guard by her sincerity. That was one thing he wasn't sure he would ever get over, her ability to express her emotions so unabashedly. It was something he still struggled with from time to time, but for her, he would let down all of his walls.
"I wouldn't say I have a crush on her or anything- she kinda just scares me but she did catch my attention," Percy interrupted Luke's thoughts.
"What's her name?" Y/N asked.
"Annabeth, I think."
Y/N nodded knowingly, looking over at Luke. "Well, I guess we'll just see if anything special blooms there. Anyway, we're here!"
The sun was beginning to set over the horizon now, painting the sky in beautiful hues of purple and pink. A gentle breeze accompanied the three as they sat down by the water.
Y/N leaned against Luke's body, savoring the warmth he offered. He absent-mindedly twirled a piece of her hair.
"Three years ago, I was sitting right here, when I saw someone a few feet away from me. He was throwing rocks into the lake and disturbing my peace," Y/N began. "When I looked over to see who it was-"
"You saw the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on," Luke cut in.
"Hey!" Y/N playfulled smacked his shoulder. "I know you've heard this story one hundred times but Percy hasn't yet."
"Yeah, I haven't yet!" Percy backed her up.
The two older campers laughed. "Thank you, Percy. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I saw this boy with curly dark hair and soft brown eyes, and I thought that's him. He's the one. This was before I was claimed by Aphrodite, but I just had a feeling, you know?"
Percy nodded, even though he wasn't sure he had experienced that feeling yet.
"But anyway, this boy looked kind of sad, so I decided to sit next to him."
"I think that's why he was throwing rocks into the water," Percy broke in.
Y/N giggled and Luke nudged her shoulder to continue.
"You're right, Percy, I had the same thought. When I sat next to him, I sensed that he was annoyed."
"Okay, love, let me finish from here." Luke softly kissed her shoulder and she buried her head in the crook of his neck.
"I wasn't annoyed-" he clarified. "At least, not at you. I had just been claimed by my father, but I was still frustrated with the whole idea of gods having children and just ignoring them. Then, this angel sat next to me and for the first time, I felt seen."
Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, her face full of nothing but admiration. No matter how many times she heard this part of the story, she still couldn't believe how she got quite so lucky.
"Percy, our parents may never redeem themselves for their wrongdoings, but I thank the gods every day they sent me Y/N." With that, Luke gently placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her.
"Hello! As lovely as this story is, still a minor here!" Percy waved his hand in front of their faces enthusiastically, causing all three of them to burst into laughter.
2K notes · View notes
swe3tte4rs · 9 months
Text
" My mom is so beatiful! " - Batfamily x Model!Batmom headcanons
Request: Batmom headcanons where batmom’s a model & the coolest mom ever?
Author's note: Thank you anon 🫶! Here is my second request, so I hope you like it. I didn't know what to put for the title so I settled for this one.
And it will also take me a while to upload the Zatanna x reader oneshot 🤗.
Again I clarify that my main language is not English, so sorry for the spelling errors 😿.
TW: nothing!! Just fluff I think
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Nightwing / Dick Grayson
Since he met you, he was fascinated with your beauty and elegance.
He loved when you went to galas and you wrapped him up in your long elegant jacket while you picked him up in your arms and let him fall asleep like that.
Dick didn't miss any of your shows or commercials.
I bet he has your older shows saved on his computer.
A model and cool mother at the same time? Wow, Dick couldn't ask for more.
You are his only support, the only one who was there and loved him no matter what.
Dick will always ask your opinion about what he wears or what haircut he will get.
He goes crazy every time he hears someone say "Your mom is hot."
"It's not my fault that my mom loves me and yours didn't love you, fucking slu-"
I feels like he would play with you by imitating your walk just to annoy you.
Always showing off his mother, yesyesyes.
The YJ and Titans members would be very jealous of him; because you treat him very nicely and send him food, without saying that you drown your son with love.
Jason Todd / Red Hood
When he was Robin he was dwarf and plump. I and other people agree 😇
Jason loves the support you give him and keep giving him.
And he also loves your delicious food, he probably asks you to prepare some for him every time he goes out on patrol.
I just imagined him (when he was Robin) bringing you a bouquet of flowers bigger than him once you finish the show, seeing you with those beautiful and big eyes 😭
I bet he sometimes got scared when he saw your face on a commercial billboard.
And he keeps doing it, only he spits out whatever he's drinking when he sees you in TV. (Without him knowing that you participated as a model in X brand)
He loves and continues to love your attacks of kisses on his face.
Yes, he would also ask you for style advice, but only once a year, he is very proud when it comes to his clothing style.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A FUCKING POSTER OF MY MOM?!?!"
Damn Jason, your mom is a model, what do you want them to do?
Tim Drake / Red Robin
He has a love-hate relationship with your love attacks.
Tim, like his other siblings, would not miss any of your shows, or the parts in which you appear.
He would help Barbara to make sure no one wants to sabotage you at one of your shows.
If given the choice between your food or the support you give him, Tim would jump off a bridge. (jk)
"Bro, can you shut the fuck up and stop saying how beautiful my mom is? I already know that."
Tim gets embarrassed every time he is with his friends and you call him (by phone XD), because you start reminding him that he is very handsome and he need to eat something. But it irritates him more when his colleagues ask to talk to you.
Damian Wayne / Robin
I think he wouldn't care about your job
He's like, the most attached to you.
After your shows he would be attached to you like a flea.
Also at the galas.
Damian was surprised that you were so kind and loving towards him despite the things he said to you before him had that mother and son connection.
I think that at first Talia wouldn't like you, but after several talks with her and assuring her that you're not going to do anything to Damian, you could even be friends.
Oh yes, he wouldn't care about your love attacks, as long as it's not in front of his friends.
"Yes mom, yes I ate the food... Yes, I know you love me. *sighs* I love you too mommy..."
You're like Jon's second mom.
His favorite days are pool or beach days, he likes to enjoy the sea while spending time with his mom.
Cassandra Cain / Orphan
Cass is the vice president of your fan club.
Cass loves you infinitely.
She has an album full of photos of you and her after the shows.
She doesn't like the idea of you parading in swimsuits.
She would always ask you for clothing tips and advice.
Cass likes, loves, and admires having a mother who understands her and can be herself with her.
She wouldn't care if you show her love in public or private. She always gives you more love back!
Skincare routine between you and her.
You always make sure that she is fashionable but also has her own style.
She would have a lot of admiration for you.
I feel like she would hardly take any notice of "your mom is hot" because she thinks they are flattery.
But if they go overboard and insult you, Cass wouldn't hesitate to give them a good beating. Nobody messes with her mommy.
I think she would have you as her wallpaper. A photo of you and her on your birthday or on her birthday.
Stephanie Brown / Spoiler
She is the President of your fan club.
Throughout the parade she is like "how boring, I want to leave" until you finally appear, it doesn't matter if the outfit you wore is ugly, she would applaud you with all her might.
"WHY DID YOU AGREE TO DO A BIKINI COMMERCIAL?!?!"
I feel like she gets angry every time anyone tell her "she's super hot" (you), and Steph is like "the nosebleed I'm going to give you is going to be hot."
Every time she sleeps over at the mansion she joins you and Cass's skincare routines.
She loves you because every time you talk there is some laughter.
Steph appreciates and adores the support you give her as a mother figure.
You rarely have love attacks towards her.
But she adores them.
Every chance she would go shopping with you.
Duke thomas / The Signal
Just let me...
Duke is your photographer.
He had a hard time opening up to you at first, but you were just great and so sweet to him.
He doesn't react like his brothers do when they tell him "your mom is hot", rather he would feel uncomfortable.
Only if they insult you would he get serious.
He likes that you are always there to support him every time he goes out on patrol or comes back from patrol.
You and Duke's connection started when you tried to get him to distract himself from the harsh reality of his biological parents, like going to the park and all that.
He is embarrassed when you have your love attacks towards him. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in public, he will be embarrassed every time you have those love attacks.
I feel that when you go with him to buy clothes, you spend a lot of time because you can't decide what clothes to buy him.
But in the end you end up buying everything for him.
Barbara Gordon / Oracle
Yes, I added Barbara, okay?
In my AU there was no love affair between her and Bruce 😇
The one in charge of making sure everything goes well at the shows.
Sometimes she sees you as her mother, sister and best friend.
Barbara always sends you messages; according to her so as not to lose contact, which is a lie because you know it is purely on a whim.
I don't think you have love attacks with her, just a simple kiss on her cheek or forehead.
Although sometimes she envied the attention you gave to your children.
Barbara would value and care for you deeply.
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[You can add more headcanons if you like <3]
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