#And i returned home with the croissant

[yonglixx]

[britneyshakespeare]

kaily and i are going to dunkin donuts tomorrow morning

[destinyandcoins]

VERY homophobic of the grocery store to not have the specific type of lemon delicious dessert i had in mind when i impulsively stopped on my way home from work. a truly heinous crime

[pierregazly]

you make loving fun ꨄ pierre gasly smau

pierre gasly x fem!russell!reader

in which pierre has made it obvious he worships the ground his fiancé walks on, but her brother just has to make it clear he can fight if he needs to.

ynrussell has posted a story

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, and others

replies

pierregasly je t'aime mon chérie 🤍

georgerussell63 you better be sleeping in different beds. and the food better be fully cooked

ynrussell we've been engaged for 9 months. ynrussell and it's a fucking croissant it's obviously fully cooked you dolt

pierregasly

tagged ynrussell

liked by ynrussell, charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, and 650,093 others

pierregasly what a great winter break with my favourite person! time to get back to work 💪😈

view all 3,209 comments

ynrussell i love youuuu

ynrussell thanks for massaging my sore ankles after :(

liked by pierregasly

username they are literally so CUTE

username i want to be ynrussell so bad... like she's so pretty and pierre brings her EVERYWHERE

georgerussell63 this doesn't seem like a safe date option

georgerussell63 my sister better be in one piece by the time you finally return her home

ynrussell i am a grown woman??? i am not being returned home??? what is WRONG with you pierregasly i think i'll keep her actually, sorry mate!

username do you guys think george is serious or is he just playing a joke

username he comments on EVERY single one of their posts... my mans gonna fuck pierre up if he ever steps out of line frfr

liked by georgerussell63

ynrussell

tagged pierregasly

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 46,209 others

ynrussell a special happy birthday to the king of my heart 🫶🏻 one year closer to 30 handsome!!!

view 306 comments

username happy birthday pierregasly!!!!!!

charles_leclerc 🥳🥳🥳

pierregasly do you want to fight??? one year closer to 30???

georgerussell63 i've got this ynrussell, don't threaten my sister or it's game over

pierregasly je t'aime 🤍

georgerussell63 is there a video of pierre getting his face shoved into the cake? i'll pay good money for it

username george omg

username LMAOOOO pleaaaase george is ruthless does he even like his future brother in law

georgerussell63 no. happy birthday pierregasly.

username why is no one talking about how he's looking at her in that second photo???? the pure love??? im gonna cry i hate that i love them

username the 😭 king 😭 of 😭 my 😭 heart 😭

ynrussell

tagged carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, and 12 others

liked by pierregasly, georgerussell63, alexandrasaintmleux, and 52,951 others

ynrussell spoiled absolutely rotten by all the wonderful women in my life this weekend, thank you all for making my bridal shower so special 🫶🏻 (and an extra special thank you to my best friend for the beautiful present he dropped off for me in the middle of it all)

view all 902 comments

carmenmmundt had so much fun celebrating the beautiful bride to be!!

username it makes my heart so full that carmen's planned so much of ynrussell's pre-wedding stuff, she has to be in the wedding party omg

username do we think george is one of pierre's groomsmen???

username if pierre doesn't want to die on his wedding day i'd hope so lol

georgerussell63 i hope pierregasly didn't ruin your special day by showing up. so happy to see how overjoyed you were in all the photos 💗

ynrussell pls stop harassing my fiancé. love you georgie.

username i literally cannot WAIT for their wedding, i just know pierre is going to go all out to make sure ynrussell is the happiest bride in the world (or george will get his ass)

pierregasly i stand by what i said, prettiest flowers for my prettiest flower 💐

georgerussell63

tagged ynrussell

liked by ynrussell, pierregasly, carmenmmundt, and 879,092 others

georgerussell63 can't believe the little girl who used to make me zip up her raincoat on the way to school is getting married tomorrow. honoured to be apart of your special day. and even though i mention it 14 times in my speech, pierregasly i know where you live and i will hurt you if you ever hurt her.

view all 2,311 comments

ynrussell 🥺🥺

ynrussell i'm going to cry. love you always georgie 🥺

username the picture of him zipping up her coat i'm going to cry... my fav brother/sister duo HONESTLY

username i just know this man would get away with murder for her if he had to

username pierre would not stand a chance against george

username bestie be so fucking for real, george's skinny ass ankles wouldn't stand a chance against my man pierre

carmenmmundt i think you've made enough threats by now?

liked by pierregasly, ynrussell, and 63 others

pierregasly may as well make it 15 times, i just dont think 14 is enough little brother

georgerussell63 do NOT call me that

pierregasly and yngasly

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, alpinef1team, and 1,673,942 others

pierregasly i am truly the luckiest man in the world to finally be able to call myself your husband. the tears were worth seeing you in the most beautiful dress, on the most beautiful day. i will hold my vows until the day i die. je t'aime, i love you.

view all 3,564 comments

username omg he cried!!!!!!

username i KNEW IT i knew pierre would be a crier my man's looks like he would be

username do we think george made him cry

username girl dont be delulu i'd be crying too if yngasly was about to be my wife

georgerussell63 i have a video of you crying. don't act up.

pierregasly wouldn't count on it lil bro. username pierre may get beat up without it even involving yngasly as this rate

yngasly can't believe i bagged myself such a looker

yngasly i love you mr. gasly

pierregasly i love you mrs. gasly

honestly this was one of those one's that i started, imagined myself in this position and then basically HAD to finish it. thank you to the lovely person who requested a russell!sister!reader who is engaged to pierre, who constantly get's threatened by george. i hope you all loved it!!

my requests are open

taglist:

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @sarahedwards16 @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios

if your name is struck through it wouldn't let me tag you! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist/if you're missing from it :)

[mandarinmoons]

That was kind of hot - Spencer Reid

Even though Spencer Reid was only a friend he was nothing short of a gentleman with you.

He would open doors, pull out the chair for you, you weren’t surprised if at one point he would sacrifice his jacket so that you could walk over a puddle.

Whenever you were alone with Penelope she always made sure to bring up the way Spencer behaved towards you.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal, Pen.”

“Really? The man brings you coffee nearly every morning.”

“Didn’t you once gush about how he brought you a croissant?”

“Yes but that was just one time. Boy wonder is at your desk practically every morning with half a bakery in his hands.”

You just couldn’t understand what Penelope was getting at. To you Spencer just seemed to be a polite and respectful man who would do the same to anyone, meanwhile Penelope was sure that Spencer had different intentions. Whether or not that was true you couldn’t bring yourself to think that way. He was too good of a friend to you and even if you yourself did have any sort of feelings for him other than friendship, you couldn’t bring yourself to potentially ruin it.

Penelope’s words came to mind after one night though. You and Spencer were late at work after Hotch had asked you both to help sort out some case files that had gotten mixed up, and by some he meant about 20 folders. Luckily because of Spencer’s eidetic memory the task time was cut in half and you didn’t have to spend too much time gathering up paper cuts.

After about an hour everything was finished and you and Spencer put the files back in the proper storage. 

“Oh thank god we’re done. My eyes were about to fall asleep.”

“As if you were the one who put in the most work.”

“Hey, watch your tone now Mr. Genius or next time I won’t help you out.”

“Like I’d need your help,” Spencer shot you a sly smile which made you push him playfully and he mimicked your actions. He pushed you slightly against your shoulder and you made contact with a bookshelf. The bookshelf moved a bit which caused a stack of books to fall off from the top shelf. Before the books hit the ground or had a chance to fall on top of you, Spencer was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him.

You looked at the mess of literature at your feet with big eyes before looking up at Spencer and seeing him look back with equally concerned eyes.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“I-It’s okay um, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded and Spencer caressed your side before pulling you along gently, “Come on, let’s go home. I’ll drive you.”

As you both walked to Spencer’s car and sat in the passenger's side, you glanced over at Spencer as he was focused on the road ahead of him. It was visible that his hold on the steering wheel was tense and he was still annoyed with himself for being so careless with you.

You put your hand on top of his and Spencer took it in his hand and ran his thumb over the back of your hand. You made eye contact for a second and you gave him a small smile signaling that you were alright. He returned the smile and gave your hand a small squeeze as a thank you for the reassurance. The ride continued on in silence, but the thoughts in your head made sure to keep your mind anything but quiet as one thought kept running through over and over again, “That was kind of hot.”

You can find my masterlist here!

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here x

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

[astermath]

uhmmmm

kitchen counter makeouts with pookie bear tasm peter <3

— @inkluvs (ivy)

the way you know damn well you are indulging me adjdkdk and I love you for it bae MWAH @inkluvs

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

tags: just sweet ol fluff, established relationship, first time writing for peter, normal sized text under the cut! <3

word count: 1.2.K

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further peter parker related content!

With Peter going on patrol until the nightly hours, you'd become used to cooking dinner later in the day. It wasn't a huge deal; you worked from home, and you were usually up when he was back anyways. Whether it was to tend to his injuries, hear about what he'd encountered that day, or just to cook some of his favorite pasta, you were always there for him when he returned. And he really appreciated that.

When you're a superhero, especially an anonymous one, it can be hard to find people to fall back on. That's why he considers having you one of his greatest strengths.

You're absentmindedly stirring some sauce when your boyfriend slips in through the bedroom window. He calls it the "spider-door", you call it a bad habit. He still uses it anyways. It's hard to use the front door of your apartment when you're dressed like the city's most popular vigilante.

He can smell the delicious mix of herbs and ingredients from the other room. The stress from the day was already melting off him, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. He'd taken the liberty of slipping out of his suit and into a comfortable pair of sweats and a shirt. Although he did think it was snazzy, after wearing it almost the entire day, he couldn't wait to be out of it.

A pair of familiar strong arms wind around your waist, an even more familiar pair of lips pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. You're used to it by now, the unexpected, sneaky greetings late at night. You weren't spooked by him, you rarely were. He likes to think his spidey senses have rubbed off on you.

He breathes in the scent of you, cheek resting onto your shoulder, and you can feel him relax into you.

"Good to see you too baby," you move your head to press a chaste kiss to his head, "how was patrol?"

"Fine," he sounds tired, and it's kind of hot, "stopped that coffee shop you like from being broken into."

"My hero," you chuckle, "now I won't have to miss those delicious chocolate croissants."

He whines lowly in response. It's a stark contrast to how he usually is, all talkative, giddy, boyish grins and jokes, bubbly laughter and strong hugs. Being a superhero will do that to you. Not exactly change you, just tire you out. A lot.

"Tired?" You ask, eyes remaining on the sauce you were preparing. It was a dumb question, of course he's tired, but he always hated admitting it.

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. Instead, he leans down and starts pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder again. You silently thank your past self for wearing a tank top, so he had plenty of access to your skin.

His lips leave tingles in their wake, your sauce becoming less interesting by the second, until you eventually turn around. You sigh at the sound of him; his hair is messy, his eyebags are prominent and he definitely needs a shower, but boy is he pretty. So pretty.

He lets you take a second to admire him, like he knows you love to do. Hands come up to cup his cheeks, the tiniest bit of stubble scratching against your palms. Your face is graced by an adoring smile, and that alone always lets him know; everything's okay, I got you.

He leans down, lips searching yours again. You happily indulge, one hand sneaking into the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss is longing, practically aching to be closer. You can feel how much he missed you just by the way his hips slide over yours.

His hands settle onto your waist, and for a moment you think he's just going to let them stay there. Of course not, because your boyfriend is anything if not unpredictable. With a gentle grip he lifts you up and turns the both of you around, setting you down onto the counter across the stove.

You giggle through the kiss, and you can feel him smile along with you, but he doesn't let go. It's like he can't, and not in a "help I just got spider powers and now I'm glued to you" way, no, like a "I'm so in love with you that I want this to last forever" way.

His hands settle onto your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. It's like this is what recharges him. Not food, not water, this is what he survives on. Your pure unconditional affection.

Unfortunately for the two of you, humans do need air to live, so you're forced to pull away after a while. Still, you remain close, noses rubbing together ever so slightly, foreheads leaning against each other.

“You ‘kay sweetie?” Your voice is gentle, not wanting to ruin the tooth achingly sweet moment the two of you are having.

“Mhm…” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just so happy to see you again… I missed you.” he accentuates his words with another kiss. “A lot.”

A warm smile adorns your face when he admits to his longing for you. You know he misses you, he tells you every day, and he knows that the sentiment is returned. You both have your reasons to be missing each other; with Peter being a superhero, he has to be careful, so the reality of any day possibly being his last was… Present. Plus, it’s a busy job. Besides the one he already has.

You just enjoy each other’s presence for a moment, basking in the radiating glow of what could only be described as an aura of love. It was like nothing outside that kitchen mattered anymore, at least not for now. You and Peter against the world, out of your small apartment in Queens.

“Honey?” He asks, and you think he’s going to say something else really sweet and heartwarming to really drive the point home. Until you see the furrow in his brows.

“I think, uh— whatever you were making is burning.”

“Fuck!” You hopped off the counter and went back to the pot of sauce, groaning when you realised the bottom of it was burnt. “It’s fine, I can— I can salvage this.” You looked over at your boyfriend, who had an apologetic smile on his face. “We can make out all you want after I make you dinner, ‘kay?”

“And every day after?” His voice is gentle, his hand resting on your lower back to keep some form of physical contact with you.

“Of course,” you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “every day after too.”

[reiding-writing]

Hi i am absolutely in love with your writing. If you want to, could you write Reid having one of his migraines and reader just comforts him, yk massaging his scalp and forehead and whatnot while he lay in her lap. Idk man i just wanna see my boy get some relief from his headaches because in the show he just suffers through them ☹️

migraine massages [ s.r ]

Summary:

Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.

WARNINGS: details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer’s addiction, mentions of relapse

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 2.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: can’t have hurt/comfort without the hurt. from a personal perspective, migraines suck bro. they suck so bad.

i’m also mildly disappointed that they didn’t expand the migraine thing after they dropped the original tumour reason, like they could’ve done so much with it-

thanks for the request! <33

Spencer felt like his skull was being hammered from the inside out. Like his brain was silently vying to escape it’s confines and break out of the bone. He felt like every nerve of his body was working against him to make sure he had the most miserable day humanly possible.

He felt like if he moved an inch from his position that the coffee and croissant that he had for breakfast this morning in an attempt to make himself feel better was going to force it’s way up out of his stomach and paint his desk in a sea of vomit.

The tinnitus ringing in his ears didn’t help, nor did the agitatingly bright while florescent lights of the office that he’d never seemed to take much notice of before.

His shoulders ached as he rested his head in his hands, his thumbs negligibly working against his temples to attempt to relieve some of the aching pressure that sent waves through his head and made him want to curl up into ball under his bed covers and never wake up.

“Spence? Are you okay?” Your voice is deliberately quiet as you approach his desk on your return from the kitchenette, steaming mug of coffee cupped in your hands and concern written all over your face.

You can almost hear the sigh of relief as he realises it’s just you and not Hotch asking him for the fourth time today for the file he’d been trying to finish for the last almost three hours.

He doesn’t look up at you yet, merely replying a weak “hi…yeah…just a headache”

You can see him try to suppress a grimace as his own voice overloads his eardrums and sends another wave of pain through his head.

You knew what a headache looked like. And what he was experiencing looked nothing like ‘just a headache’.

“A headache? You look like you’re in a lot of pain, have you-” You begin to question his pain relief, but catch yourself before asking about painkillers. As much as they definitely shouldn’t be, opioids are the most common form of pain relief prescribed for migranes, and you knew that if he had gone to the doctors for the pain, he would’ve turned them down.

At least you hope so anyway.

“Have you… had it for long?”

There’s a pause, before an almost imperceptible nod comes from him. “Three hours… three hours and eighteen minutes…. I thought it was gonna pass but… it’s getting worse….” he swallows before forcing out the next part “…I feel sick….”

You give him a small nod and a pursed expression, becoming increasingly concerned as he continues his explanation, and you can just barely catch how pale his face has gone underneath his hands.

“You should go home Spence…”

He looks up from his desk at that suggestion. As he’s trying to answer he gets cut off by a blinding pain that explodes behind his eyes. He gasps and clutches his head, dropping back into his chair before closing his eyes. “Agh….”

“Spencer…” You can’t help but wince slightly at Spencer’s clear display of pain. “Let me drive you home, you’re not fit to work right now,”

He wants to argue but his mouth is dry. The pain is just too much for him to focus on anything else, including having an opinion, so instead he simply nods.

“Give me two seconds okay? I’m going to go and tell Hotch and then we can go,”

That seems to be a satisfactory answer for now, because he just nods again. He’s not quite ready for the onslaught of light and sounds that will be the outside world just yet. He simply leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on his breathing.

It takes you a little under two minutes to return, and the first thing you do is take both of your messenger bags onto your shoulder and dispose of your coffee mug on your desk.

You hold out a hand tentatively to him to help him up from his chair. “Here, let’s get you home,”

He takes your hand, slowly getting on his feet as his change in positioning sends another wave of pain shooting through the front of his head. He’s leaning on you for balance as you lead him out of the BAU office. His vision is still blurry, but at least having someone to lean on stops him from having to risk tripping over.

You have to help him into your car once your reach the parking lot, reclining the passenger’s seat as far back as it’ll go so that he’s not forced to sit upright for the whole ten minute drive.

You make an effort to keep the vehicle smooth as you pull out of the office, checking periodically over at your side to make sure that Spencer is alright. Or as alright as he can be anyway.

Once you reach Spencer’s apartment complex, you shut off the car and collect both of your belongings, getting out yourself and then walking around to assist Spencer in getting up.

It’s clear from his expression that he wouldn’t’ve managed the task on his own. He leans on you in a combination of gratitude, comfort and convenience, and he continues to use you as a crutch through the front entrance to the elevator and all the way up to his apartment door, where he struggles to insert his key in the lock through his shaking hands.

“You got it?”

He gives a weak “mhm” as he fumbles with the keys in the lock for a few seconds more, but eventually manages to unlock the door and step inside with you.

“Take a seat Spence,” You lead him carefully over to his couch and sit him down before walking across the room to pull his curtains shut and dump your bags on his reading chair.

As you pull the curtains shut and turn around again, you notice the room being a little messier than usual. Books and papers have been scattered over the room, and there were several mugs and glasses dotted around.

Clearly this wasn’t his first migrane.

Spencer is increasingly grateful the room isn’t too bright as the shade covers the room, allowing him to relax into the cushions of the sofa as you kneel to help him remove his shoes before removing your own.

He doesn’t resist your assistance. The pain still hasn’t subsided enough for him to be in the mood to resist anything. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time you unlace his shoes, just grateful for any relief he can get.

“l’m going to get you some water okay?” Spencer nods at this suggestion. At this point he’s too tired and nauseous to try and fight you, so as you leave the room, he lays his head over the back of the couch and just waits for you to come back with the water.

You return with both a glass of water and a small holding a few ice cubes, handing Spencer the glass and leaving the towel on the coffee table to chill under the presence of the ice. “Drink,”

He takes the glass from you, before slowly leaning forward and sipping the water. Your presence seems to bring him a lot of comfort, much more than he probably realises.

He continues drinking until the glass is empty, seemingly more dehydrated than he realised.

You take a seat next to Spencer has he finishes the glass, and you take it from him gently and place it down on his coffee table.

He takes a deep breath in, and out, leaning back into the couch once more.

He’s trying so hard to focus on something other than his pain, but it’s difficult. So instead he focuses on one of the only other things he can feel, which is the warmth you radiate as you sit next to him. “Here, lie down Spence,”

You put a hand on his shoulder to help try and ease him down slowly so he doesn’t put himself in any more pain. “But there’s no space..”

“You can put your head in my lap it’s okay,” You lean over to grab the now cold towel, leaving the ice in the empty glass before patting your thighs as an indication for him to lie down. “Let me see if I can relive some of that lingering tension,”

If he were of his right mind right now he would’ve been somewhat embarrassed in such a scenario, but right now he’s just too tired and in pain to do anything else but submit to the situation.

He lays his head into your lap slowly, his face relaxing as he looks up at you with grateful eyes.

You chuckle softly as he blinks up at you, leaning down over him slightly to brush some hair off of his forehead. “Close your eyes Spence,”

You can see a slight pinkness in his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His expression is the perfect combination of relaxed and sleepy, although you can still see the traces of the pain he’s feeling through the knit in his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders.

Just hearing the sound of your voice fills his head with warmth and relaxation; Even if his head is still pounding he feels a lot better just being able to listen to you.

As his eyelids flutter closed, you place the damp cold towel over them, raking your fingers gently through his hair to ensure that nothing gets caught underneath the fabric ans slowly detangling it in the process.

For a moment your touch sends him into heaven, and he can actually feel the tension and pain receding from his body.

As he relaxes, his body slowly begins to respond to the touch with warm and fuzzy feelings. He wants to savour every second of this, to commit the sensation to memory, to never forget the feeling of your warm and gentle touch.

“How long have you been having migraines for Spencer?” You make an effort to keep your tone as soft as possible, moving your attention from running your hands through his hair to kneading your fingers against his temples.

“they’re a fairly recent thing… been having them on and off for a few weeks now….” As your hands work on his temples the pain once again starts to recede significantly. It’s still there, it probably will be for a long time, but it’s no longer all pervading. “…they can be a little debilitating some days….”

“Have you…” you trail off your question, unsure if your right to ask him it. “Never mind-“

He pulls the fabric of the towel from his eyes and blinks them up at you. The dark circles under his eyes are still clearly evident, but it’s not really surprising considering all that’s been happening to him. “…you were gonna ask if i’ve been using again weren’t you?”

“…i’m just worried about you…”

You continue to gently massage at his temples as he sees right through your apprehension.

He can’t help but sigh softly as you indirectly admit to him being right in his assumption of your question. Your concern is appreciated, albeit unnecessary. “…I’m not using anymore… I quit… I’m serious…”

He plasters a small smile on his face as a form of reassurance, though it’s pretty weak considering the fatigue his headache was providing him. “Just having a bad bout of migraines this week… that’s all….”

“Can I just- see your arms? Please?” Your fingers halt their movements as you ask the question, fully focused on receiving an answer. “I just want to make sure…”

His body tenses up a little bit as the request is made, but he complies nonetheless. He slowly raises his arms and hikes up his shirt sleeves, exposing the flesh of his forearms to your view.

There’s no marks on them, no dark scars and no signs of track marks.

He’s clean, and you can tell from his body language alone that he’s telling the truth.

You can feel your shoulders physically relax as your eyes examine his skin, and your expression softens as you look down at him. “thank you…”

“I told you, I’m serious about staying clean….” He lowers his arms, closing his eyes again. He’s back where he was a few minutes ago, a man almost fully at peace despite the fact that he’s still in pain.

“I know Spence..” You scratch gently at his scalp, feeling a little guilty about unofficially accusing him of a potential relapse. But you had to know. You had to know that he was alright.

“I just care about you… I want you to be okay..”

As your fingers brush the base of his scalp he shivers slightly. The feeling is incredibly relaxing, more so than even the previous massage. He smiles softly at the fact that the pain has at least become bearable for now. “Thanks for looking after me…”

“Always,” The pad of your thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as you move to tuck a stand of hair behind his ear, knocked loose by him pulling on the hand towel that now laid crumpled on the floor.

Spencer’s eyes flicker slightly. The movement of your fingers across his cheeks is soothing, but also makes him feel something else entirely. It’s hard to describe.

He can’t deny the sensation that rises up from his stomach at these small gestures of affection. A part of him is enjoying it more than is probably okay, given the situation and how tired he is. All it amounts to are butterflies, but that’s enough to make his cheeks flush slightly. “you should take a nap Spencer,”

“mhm…” He nods in agreement. “but can I ask you a small favour first…?”

You mirror his nod with one of your own, your fingers returning to scratching gentle lines against his scalp. “Of course you can,”

There’s a small moment of silence before he speaks again, his eyes flickering between you and the ceiling.

“can you stay with me?”

His question is more of a request, and you swear that you melt from the innocent pleading in his tone.

With you around it’s almost like he doesn’t notice the pain at all. When he closes his eyes it feels like the world is completely at peace, like there’s no need to worry about anything else at this moment in time.

“…please…?” the last word is almost a whisper.

You don’t hesitate in your answer, giving him a soft smile. “of course i will..”

You let out a small breath of air alongside your words, your eyes entranced with the relaxed expression on Spencer’s face, mixed with relief at your willingness to spend a few more hours with him.

Spencer feels a small smile form on his lips as you respond. His hands raise slightly and clutch at your thighs, gently gripping at them almost compulsively.

Now that he knows you’ll be sticking around for a while, all he wants to do is fall asleep in your company.

[redzie02]

Jongho is jealous and Wooyoung is the cause because of course he is

drabble written past midnight

warnings: jealousy/ insecurity/ jongho having one sided beef with wooyoung/ jongho being an irritated bear

Jongho knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way- he had no reason to. He knows you love him and care about him, you tell him so every day. Never once has he felt unloved by you. But today…he was feeling insecure. And being so insecure made him feel guilty for the tiny part of him that was doubting your affection for him.

You see, today, the both of you had spent the day with Wooyoung. It really wasn’t any different than any other weekend. But for some reason, Jongho couldn’t help but hyper focus on the way you threw your head back and cackled when Wooyoung would make a joke. Or when Wooyoung would steal a bite of your food and you didn’t even seem to mind or second glance.

Now there wasn’t exactly anything strange about this- Wooyoung was your best friend after all. Jongho just couldn’t help but compare himself to Wooyoung.

Of course you didn’t know Jongho was feeling any of this yet, he hides his emotions well. But as you walked towards the cafe hand in hand, you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing he’d been a bit quiet for the past few minutes. You squeezed his hand and he turned his head to meet your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping he would be able to read the question behind your eyes. Are you okay? He returned the smile, to which you lifted your interlocked fingers to place a kiss on the back of his hand.

After entering the cafe and ordering iced coffees- and a chocolate croissant you’d been craving all day- you walked to a table with drinks in hand. Usually Jongho liked to sit across from you, but today he’d quickly taken the spot next to you before Wooyoung even had the chance to.

You quickly fell into a conversation and Wooyoung showed you and Jongho pictures he had taken the past week.

“Hey, fix your face! Why do you look so miserable?”

“Wha-“ You lifted your gaze from Wooyoung’s phone, ready to defend yourself, only to find Wooyoung pointing his finger at Jongho. Brows raised in confusion, you turned to look at him.

“What are you talking about? My face is fine.” Jongho rolled his eyes while sipping his coffee.

Wooyoung gave you a look and teased Jongho further. “Where are your manners? I’m gonna tell Hongjoong you’re being a brat.” You watched them in amusement.

“Oh yeah? And what the hell is he gonna do about it?”

“Sell you, probably.”

You attempted to laugh, but choked on your coffee instead. Jongho patted your back as you coughed into your napkin. “You guys are idiots,” you croaked.

Before leaving the cafe, Wooyoung excused himself to the bathroom. You waited for him outside and took advantage of this moment. You grabbed Jongho’s hand and pulled him closer to your body.

“Are you okay, Jongho? You haven’t really said much.” There was a look behind his eye that you'd never seen before, but it was gone as soon as you noticed it.

Jongho put on his best face, not wanting you to worry any more about him. "Hm? Oh- yeah I'm fine, I guess I'm just a bit tired." Jongho felt his hands clam up as he watched you wordlessly examine his face.

You took a deep breath and held his face. "Are you sure? Your knee isn't sore again or anything? If it is, we can go home and I can ice it for you and I'll make tea an-"

"No baby, I'm not in pain, I swear. I was just in a weird mood, I guess...sorry." His hands were now over yours.

You opened your mouth to reply only to be interrupted again. "You're always weird, man."

Wooyoung. Jongho tried not to hit Wooyoung, but failed, landing a slap on his shoulder. "If your face wasn't so important, I'd punch you instead."

Wooyoung pulled him into a tight embrace, smacking a kiss on his cheek. "Wrong! I'm your favorite." Jongho struggled to get away, but Wooyoung only held him tighter. He loved tormenting him.

"Hey, get off my boyfriend." You pouted, reaching out. Wooyoung caught your hand and pulled you in, trapping you as well and planting a kiss on your cheek. You groaned and pinched his sides, making him yelp.

"That hurt!"

Both you and Jongho replied at the same time, "Good."

-

Back home, Jongho sat on the couch while you prepared tea in the kitchen. Soft music played and you hummed to it as you pulled out mugs from the cabinet.

You stirred the tea and carefully made your way to where Jongho sat. "Careful, it's hot."

"Mm, thank you." He took a sip and set his mug on the coffee table to cool down.

You sat down and let out a sigh of relief. The apartment was quiet and peaceful, the yellow glow from the street lights subtly peeked through the blinds. You still had this one thing on your mind though.

"So, what did you mean earlier when you said you were in a weird mood?"

"Oh-uh nothing- I-why do you ask?"

"I don't know...you just didn't really seem too excited today. You barely talked either. You can talk to me about how you're feeling, you know."

"I know, I know. I just-"

DING

The sound of your phone going off startled you both. Jongho rolled his eyes when you read Wooyoung's name out loud. He let out a frustrated sigh, which you heard.

"What? Is it Wooyoung? Was it something he said?"

Jongho huffed and tossed his body back into the couch, crossing his arms, eyes facing the ceiling. He knew he was being dramatic but he didn't care. He mumbled to himself, hoping you wouldn't hear. "Even when he's not here, he gets your attention. God, he's so annoying."

You blinked at him. Your mug now placed next to his. Things were finally clicking into place and you heart panged for not noticing sooner. You slid your hand down his arm. "Jongho..." He didn't budge. He let you pull his arm away so you could snuggle into his side. His arm fell over your body. "Baby..." He lifted his head to find your eyes fixated on his. "I don't think I've ever seen you jealous in my life."

"I'm not jealous."

"Yeah? Then what are you feeling, hm?" Your voice was soft as you spoke to him. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed about the way he felt and the way he acted as a result of that. You leaned up and kissed his eyelids. "Jongho, you know you're the person I love most, right? And maybe this is toxic, but I'd burn the world if you told me to."

He chuckled and finally opened his eyes, "Please don't, we know you can't stand heat."

You bit back a smile. "I hate that I made you feel this way, bear. Can you please tell me what line I crossed that made you uncomfortable?"

He sighed and sat up, tightening his arm around you. "Honestly, there wasn't anything that you or Wooyoung did....I just- I don't know. I guess today was one of those days where I overthought everything...I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, I get what you mean. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, bear?"

Jongho thought for a moment, but eventually sunk further into the couch, bringing you with him. "No, just be here and-" DING "-and please mute Wooyoung."

You stifled your laugh into his chest. "Didn’t you say you wanted me to be friends with your friends?"

"I take that back."

[cubarsis]

— stop wiping | h. fort garcía

synopsis : you prank your boyfriend by wiping away his kisses throughout the day

Genre : fluff, suggestive

warnings : one butt slap, making out (?)

HECTOR HAD BEEN LOOKING forward to this evening for weeks. He had planned a perfect night out to celebrate his girlfriend’s recent success in school. But throughout the day, something peculiar kept happening.

The morning began at their favorite café, a cozy spot with the best croissants in town. As Hector leaned in to kiss her cheek before they parted ways for a few hours, she wiped the kiss away with the back of her hand, her eyes never leaving her phone. Hector barely noticed, thinking it was just an absentminded gesture.

Later, they met up for lunch at a small deli near the park. Hector recounted a funny story from his day, and as they laughed, he leaned over the table to kiss her. She wiped it away again, this time with a quick, almost clinical swipe while reaching for her drink. Hector was engrossed in his story and didn’t think much of it.

In the afternoon, they decided to take a walk through the park. The sun was shining, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers. As they strolled hand in hand, Hector felt a surge of affection and leaned in to kiss her forehead. She wiped it away, pretending to adjust her hair. By now, Hector’s subconscious started to register the pattern, but he pushed the thought aside, convincing himself that she was just being preoccupied.

As the day went on, little moments like these continued. Each kiss he offered was met with the same reaction—an affectionate wipe disguised as a casual gesture. By the time evening rolled around, Hector was feeling increasingly confused and a bit hurt. They were getting ready for their celebratory dinner, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being brushed off all day.

After they returned home from their evening out, Hector couldn’t shake off the lingering feeling of confusion and hurt. As they settled onto the couch in his living room, he tried to focus on the movie they had decided to watch. However, his mind kept wandering back to the way she had wiped away his kisses throughout the day.

Unable to hold back any longer, Hector decided to test if she would still do it. Without saying a word, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. He held it there for a moment, silently hoping she wouldn’t wipe it away this time. When he pulled back, he watched her closely, waiting for her reaction.

To his dismay, she hesitated for a brief moment before wiping her lips with the back of her hand, just as she had been doing all day. This time, she added a playful wink, clearly enjoying her little prank.

Hector couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh. “Why do you keep doing that?”

She looked at him with mock innocence, her eyes wide. “Doing what?”

He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his irritation. “Wiping away my kisses. You’ve been doing it all day.”

She pretended to ponder this, tapping her chin theatrically. “Hmm, are you sure? Maybe you’re just imagining it, baby.”

Héctor crossed his arms, giving her a skeptical look. “Oh, I’m sure. It feels like you’re brushing off my affection.”

She tried to stifle a giggle, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Hector, you’re so sensitive. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

He leaned in again, giving her another soft kiss, this time on her cheek. He watched her closely, and sure enough, she wiped it away with a flourish, like a magician performing a trick.

“See!” Hector exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “You did it again!”

She finally burst out laughing, unable to keep up the act any longer. “Okay, okay, you caught me! I was just playing a little prank.”

Héctor sighed, half exasperated and half amused. “Well, it wasn’t very funny after the tenth time.”

She scooted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, Hector. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just thought it would be funny.”

He looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity there despite her playful antics. “I know, but it started to feel like you didn’t want my kisses.”

She kissed him gently, then pulled back with a smile. “I love your kisses. I promise I won’t wipe them away anymore.”

He smiled, feeling the last of his frustration melt away. “Good, because I have a lot more to give.”

Before she could respond, Hector captured her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. This time, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, exploring gently and feeling her respond eagerly. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled him closer, their playful banter forgotten as they lost themselves in the intensity of the moment.

The kiss deepened, becoming more fervent and filled with unspoken affection. Hector’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her even closer, while her fingers tangled in his hair. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing second.

As they eventually pulled apart, Hector couldn’t help it but slap her butt hard enough to beat a little ‚oww‘ from her, making her pay for her antics.

Now both slightly breathless, Hector rested his forehead against hers, a contented smile playing on his lips. “I couldn’t stay mad at you,” he whispered.

She smiled back, her eyes shining with affection. “Good, because I couldn’t stay away from you.”

„Still, you owe 5 nights letting me be the little spoon with back and head scratches for that prank,“ he says and snuggles against his girl.

cubarsis‘ 24

[ichorai]

ties that bind ; nanami kento ; october 26th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; nanami shows up to work smelling like you, and gojo has quite a keen sense of smell.

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married)

warnings / includes ; more domestic vibes, nanami's Tired guys someone give him a vacation

series masterlist.

26th october, 2016

Nanami was having a long morning. Granted, the clock hadn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but he was already feeling particularly exhausted. 

Possible reasons included, but were not limited to: the local bakery he usually went to for breakfast was out of his favorite kind of almond croissants, the vending machine that held his precious coffee outside of the school was out of order, forcing him to go forgo caffeine for the day, Principal Yaga informed him of an influx of village curses he needed to take care of since the school was currently short-handed on staff, and, finally, Gojo would just not stop pestering him. 

The lanky, white-haired colleague of Nanami’s started off by sending roughly a dozen memes about a trendy topic he really had no interest in whatsoever. Then, when Gojo realized that Nanami had muted his messages when he no longer kept responding with: “Stop sending me these during work hours”, he took it upon himself to barge into his office and languidly splay himself across the couch situated opposite his desk and chair. 

Perhaps the only saving grace of this morning, Nanami recalled, was waking up next to you—a sight he’d been blessed with for over a year now. You were still asleep when his alarm buzzed, though you mumbled something groggy and unintelligible under your breath. Knowing that you had a tiring day yesterday, your husband let you sleep for another five minutes while he slipped out from beneath the comforters to wash up. When he returned, you had curled up on his side of the bed, nose smothered into his pillow to inhale his scent. Nanami’s hand reached out to brush stray hairs away from your face, still slackened with sleepiness, but your eyes were cracked open into narrow slits.

“Hey, honey,” he whispered, voice soft as ever. “We’ve got work soon. Do you want me to drop you off?”

You worked at a local university quite close to home. Though curses weren’t particularly attracted to you, what with your easy-going and admiringly-positive demeanor, where you worked was a breeding ground for negative emotions. Stressed students and impatient professors always had universities crawling with curses of all sorts. Nanami never liked the idea of you working in such an environment.

“I think I’ll call in sick today,” you mumbled back, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard with a lethargic wince. “I have a terrible headache… I think I might be coming down with a cold. I’ve just got to reschedule today’s lecture with the students for another day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, brows kinking with worry as he moved to sit down next to you. “Do you need me to pick up anything for you from the pharmacy?”

“I’ll be okay,” you told him in a reassuring manner. A bright, but tired smile made its way onto your face when the back of his hand rested over your forehead to feel your temperature. He frowned in concern and pulled away—you were much warmer than usual. 

Then, he dipped forward to press a chaste, but loving kiss right over your temple. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll make you some tea.”

“You should be getting to work, Kento—”

He made a dismissive noise, and got up to go fix you the warm drink, squeezing in some honey and lemon in case you had a sore throat, too. A few minutes later, he came back with the steaming mug, and a pack of unopened paracetamol he fetched from the kitchen drawers. 

“Take one now, and another by lunchtime if you’re still feeling unwell,” he told you, his sharp features displaying nothing but raw concern. 

“Yes, doc,” you said with a slight laugh and a salute. “I’ll be okay, honey, really. It’s just a little cold, but thank you for the tea. Now you go and get ready for work.”

Kento pursed his lips, kissed your head again, and rose from your side to go change into his professional attire. Even after all this time, he could feel a warm flush settling over his cheeks when you whistled in appreciation from the bed, clutching the mug of tea in between your palms with a grin. 

“You look so handsome, Kento.” 

“It’s the same thing I always wear.”

“My point stands,” you said, voice rife with mirth. He shot you a soft, appreciative smile.

In his haste to get ready and rush off to work, he accidentally spritzed himself with your perfume rather than his usual cologne. He didn’t mind all that much, anyway, because that meant he’d be able to smell you all day long, and hurried to gather the rest of his things. 

“I love you, please send me a message if you need anything,” he said just as he was about to leave, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw. 

“I will,” you reassured, one hand lifting away from the mug to take hold of his palm and tug the appendage upwards so you could kiss the inside of his wrist, right over his pulse. “Have a good day at work, hon.”

God, he loved you more than anything. 

Now, with Nanami’s mind both burdened with thoughts of you being sick, and stressed over the new wave of village curses Yaga asked him to take care of, he hadn’t even noticed Gojo suddenly right at his side rather than ridiculously spreading out over the office’s couch.

“Ooh, Nanamin,” he said the fond nickname in a crude, high-pitched tone, and over-exaggerated sniffing at Nanami’s suit, “Who is this I’m smelling on you? Are you seeing someone behind my back?”

Nanami’s left eye twitched behind his spectacles. It was a relatively easy choice he made not to tell anyone at work about you. He very much preferred to keep work and personal life separate. 

“It’s my new perfume,” Nanami bluntly said, expression remaining unamused. 

“I didn’t take you for a floral-note kind of man,” Gojo crooned in response with a roguish grin. If he thought that Nanami was lying at all, he betrayed no signs of such. “I love it! What brand is it? Where’d you get it?”

“Get out of my office, Gojo.”

The blind-folded man snickered and rubbed his hands together. Nanami’s evident irritation only seemed to egg him on. “Didn’t Yaga tell you? I’m coming with you today! Apparently there’s been reports of a special-grade curse there. You’re going to need my help, you know.” Gojo prodded at Nanami’s biceps.

Nanami’s lips pinched tightly. “Perfect,” he gritted out. 

It was only nine in the morning, but he already couldn’t wait to get back home to you.

[bad268]

Hi I really like your stories! And i was thinking that could you possibly write another one for Kimi Antonelli with a reader that can’t speak Italian while they are travelling in Italy? I believe this is going to be really interesting!

Good Enough (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! Some of this is a real conversation I had with one of my friends)

Warnings: Language lol, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1052

Summary: Duolingo can only do so much

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You liked to think that you were well-versed in many things. Italian was not one of those things. That was a bit of a problem especially when your boyfriend is Italian. You would visit him constantly, but you never left his house. 

You were a homebody at heart, so you were more than content to stay at his house whenever you came to visit. It was just who you were.

However, Kimi wanted to show you around. He had a larger break between his Formula 2 season-ender and Formula 1 debut, and you were already planning to stay with him during the winter break. He wanted to take you around Bologna, his home city, and take you to all of his favorite places. This was mainly because you took him to all of your favorite places when he visited you and your home city before the season started, so he wanted to return the favor.

The first place you went to was his favorite cafe.

“But this sign says “bar,” Kimi,” You laughed as you reluctantly followed him to the building.

“Bar is a cafe in Italian,” Kimi laughed as he led the door open for you. You walked in and, true to his word, it was a cafe. You walk up to the counter to order, but everything is in Italian.

“How am I supposed to know what’s here?” You signed trying to recognize anything on the menu. “It’s all Italian.”

“Huh, wonder why,” Kimi joked, “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll order for you.”

“Can I just get a coffee with cream and sugar? I feel like that’s easy, right?” You asked looking around at the options, and you saw a bunch of coffee beans behind the counter. Surely they’d have coffee.

“Ciao, vorresti ordinare?” The barista asked as she saw you standing there. You immediately looked over to Kimi for him to respond. 

“Ciao, vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero e un tè con latte,” He said to her before turning his attention to you. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Do they have croissants?” You asked, and he nodded, turning his attention back to the barista.

“E due croissant, per favore,” He replied as he pulled out money to pay. “Grazie!”

“I’m never going to learn Italian,” You groaned as you walked to a table on the outdoor patio to wait for your food. “It’s difficult, and I don’t even know what you ordered us.”

“I could always tell you what I said,” he laughed. “I bet I could also teach you.”

“Please,” You let up as you grabbed his hand from across the table. “Duolingo is not helping. If anything, it’s making it more difficult to understand.”

“You tried Duolingo before asking your Italian boyfriend to learn Italian? Mamma mia!” Just then, the barista brought out your food and drinks before heading back behind the counter. “Here, I’ll help. This,” he said as he gestured to your cup of coffee, “I said I would like a coffee with cream and sugar. Vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero. Try it.”

“I’m going to butcher the accents,” You admitted as you tried it out, and sure enough, you messed up a little, but it was not too far off the original. That could be chalked up to the lack of an Italian accent. “Was that horrible?”

“Not at all!” He encouraged as he took a drink from his tea. “Then I said I also wanted a tea with cream. Un tè con latte. Are you seeing the resemblance?”

“So tè is tea and cafè is coffee?” You asked and were met with a nod from him. “Then latte is cream, con is with, and zucchero is sugar.”

“Yes! That’s all right!” He smiled as he passed you one of the croissants. “Then what would ‘due croissant’ mean?”

“Two croissants, I’m guessing?” You answered nervously but were met with a smile.

“Sì, you’re doing great!” He praised as he brought your hand up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Now, do you know what ‘ciao’, ‘per favore’ and ‘grazie’ mean?”

“Of course, I know ‘ciao’! I’ve heard Bella Ciao before,” You joked. Kimi’s eyes widened as if still asking the question. “It means hi, right?” “Yes, but what about the others?”

“‘Per favore’ sounds like ‘please’ in Spanish, so I’m assuming that,” You replied, “And I bet ‘grazie’ is thank you. You’ve said that a lot, especially after the race, to your engineers.”

“Corretto!” That’s when he noticed you were both done with your drinks and noticed you were done, so he stood up to take the glassware back to the counter before coming back to you. “How about we go shopping? I can keep teaching you Italian while we walk around my favorite places.”

“That sounds fun,” You said as you stood up and followed him down the street, hand in hand. “I need a new jacket anyway.”

“Io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Huh?”

“I need a new jacket in Italian is io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” He laughed seeing your confused face.

“Is this going to be a new theme? Anything I say, you’re going to translate it?”

“Se vuoi che lo faccia,” He said, causing you to glare at him. He laughed lightly before translating, “If you want me to.”

“As hot as I find your accent and you speaking Italian to me, I’d rather you not do that,” You admitted. “Can we just stick to small words that I definitely already know the meaning of and small lessons here and there?”

“Well, what words do you already know?”

“Ciao, per favore, grazie-”

“Word that I did not teach you before today,” He cut you off with a laugh. 

“Uh, amour means love, ti amo means I love you, and um, one that’s not so good willed,” You chuckled nervously as you both walked by a huge group of people. 

“I still want to know what it is,” He pressed once everyone cleared out of the way, and he pulled you to the side in an alley for more privacy. “What is it?”

“Vaffanculo,” You whispered, “It means fuck you.”

“Technically, it means go fuck yourself, but close enough.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[hazelfoureyes]

i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ

Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system

「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」

Stalker’s Tango

From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.

The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.

He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.

When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’

“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.

Another text. ‘Heated.’

He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’

When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.

No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.

Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.

A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.

“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”

Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.

Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.

A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.

Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”

“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”

“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”

The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”

The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”

He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.

Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.

Sixty seconds. Where were you?

Ninety seconds. Where were you.

One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!

Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.

“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”

He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.

Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.

A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”

As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.

Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.

“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.

You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”

A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”

“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”

“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”

He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.

His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.

“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”

He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.

“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”

Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 ┆ 𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ you return to HQ and all of your spidey friends are happy to see you again. after a fun day with your friends, you return home but something feels off.

. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ fluff, goofiness, swearing, pet names, sprinkle of jealous!miguel, angsty ending

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

traveling through portals is trippy but also low-key a mindfuck. one minute you’re standing in your living room then you’re in the main lobby of the spider society. it’s gonna take some time for you to get used to that. miguel is aware of your arrival. he set up your watch so it would notify him directly whenever you arrive at HQ. he’s currently in a mission but he notified you that he’ll join you afterwards. for the meantime, you search for your spidey friends. hopefully they aren’t occupied with missions but you don’t mind waiting. the society is filled with fascinating people and things so you’ll be occupied. perhaps you’ll make more friends here.

wandering around HQ, a cartoonish spider-man, or should say spider-ham, approached you with a wave. “[y/n]! welcome back! it’s been a long time since we’ve seen you!” spider-ham said happily.

“hey porker! i missed my favorite pig!” you two share a high five. “i’m happy to be back!”

“nice to finally see that pretty face again.” a familiar british accent approached you.

“hobie!” you rush up to him and give him a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

the brit chuckles at your reaction, hugging you back with his arms around your waist. “i was worried i wouldn’t see ya pretty face again, love.”

you break the embrace to look up at him. “i missed that accent of yours and your jokes.”

“ah you flatter me, love.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders as you start walking down the hallway, passing by all types of spider-people.

you wave at spider-ham as he walks away to join a mission that he is required for.

gwen calls out your name as she walks up to you with a bright smile before pulling you into a hug.

you hug her back. “hey gwen!”

“you’re back! we missed you! everything okay? it’s been a while since we last saw you.” the blonde pulled back from the embrace.

“oh yeah. work has just been a pain but i finally got time to visit you guys! i missed my spidey peeps.” you smile at your friends, they reciprocated. you noticed a certain someone isn’t next to her which makes you a bit curious. “and miles?”

“he’s dealing with some things back at home. school and stuff like that.” the blonde elaborated. a beep comes from her watch, making her glance at it then back to you. “gotta go. see ya later, [y/n]!” gwen waves and smiles as she walks away.

you wave back then felt an arm sneaking around your shoulders. “why don’t we walk around, love?” hobie flashes a smile at you, making you blush a little.

“sure.” you nod with a smile as the two of you continue walking down the hallway.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

“so fuck the government, huh?” you giggle in the middle of your sentence while munching on a delicious croissant sandwich.

“those wankers are unless and don’t really give a shit about anyone.” hobie snacks on some lays, leaning back on the chair with his feet on the table. “well if it ain’t my favorite spider.” he looks past you, making you turn around to whoever he’s referring to.

a man dressed in a pink fuzzy robe approached you both. what captures your attention is the adorable redhead baby in the baby carrier. you’ve never seen anything so adorable, besides daisy and dogs in general. who is this little bundle of joy?

“oh you must be [y/n]! the lady miguel’s been talking about.” the man greets you with a smile and extends out his hand for a shake. “i’m peter, his best friend. and this—“ he gestures at the baby with his free hand. “is my daughter mayday.” the baby girl smiles and babbles at you. her tiny hands reach out to you as if she wants you to hold her.

you shake his hand, returning the smile. “nice to meet you, peter. and nice to meet you.” you shift your gaze to mayday, smiling at her. “hola, preciosa.” you say in a sweet tone, making the little girl smile and giggle as she reaches her arms out to you. oh your heart melts at the adorable baby; such a cutie.

“may i?” you glance up at peter, waiting for permission.

“of course!” he said happily with a smile. he carefully pulls mayday out from the baby carrier and hands her over to you which you gladly accept.

you held the baby securely in your grasp as you sat her down on your lap. “you are the cutest thing i’ve ever seen here.” mayday giggles in response as she starts playing with your curls, which you don’t mind.

“so how did you and miguel become friends?” peter takes a seat at the table, sitting across from you.

“well first, he saved my butt twice.” normally you would say ‘ass’ but since you have a baby in front of you, no swearing. “then he popped by my place and hung out a few times like besties.”

both men look at you with surprise looks. peter has his eyebrows raised in pure astonishment while hobie has that iconic smirk on his charming face.

“a few times? the man’s obsessed.” hobie jokes.

your snort, nodding your head. “oh i know. he’s a stalker but my stalker.” a hint of pride in your tone.

“well, it’s nice to know that miguel has a new friend. after being stuck with us, he definitely needs more and i’m glad he found you. you seem like a very nice person.” peter offers a smile.

you huff out a soft chuckle. “oh i don’t think i’m the nicest person but thank you. i try to be.”

“oh but you are! miguel says it all the time. well… not exactly but he definitely talks about you a lot in secret whenever he’s not talking about multiverse shenanigans. i just know it.” peter chuckles.

you look at the male with a shocking expression. miguel talks about you? a lot? you can’t help but you feel your heart skipping a beat at the confession. the man just keeps surprising you more and more.

“seriously?” you sound truly surprised.

peter nods happily with a dorky smile. “yep! he may not admit it of course because he’s so stubborn but he definitely does.”

your snort. “oh that we agreed on. he’s the most stubborn man i’ve ever met. i feel bad for you guys having to deal with that especially since he’s the boss. i could never work for a boss like him.”

both men laugh at your comment, mayday simply giggles and claps her tiny hands. you smile at her, can’t get enough of how adorable she is.

“he isn’t that bad, just anger management issues and stubbornness.” peter said, resisting to laugh.

“too stubborn up his techy arse.” hobie jokes.

you quickly cover mayday’s ears so she doesn’t listen to the curse word from hobie. the little girl just giggles and babbles at you, clapping her hands in excitement. the cuteness consumes you entirely. you uncover her ears as she keeps playing with your curls. mayday continues on babbling and you just tag along, agreeing on whatever she’s trying to say.

“oh miguel! nice of you to finally join us.” peter’s voice snap you out of trance only to find miguel staring directly at you and mayday.

“the vampire came out of his cave.” hobie jokes, earning a death glare from the tall brunette but obviously doesn’t bother him.

“you have a mission to complete. move it.” miguel points a finger at hobie, those crimson eyes glaring at the younger male.

the punky-looking spider raised his hands in air as he gets up from the chair. “whatever ya say, mate.” he turns to look at you, winking. “see ya later, pretty.” and with that, hobie walks away.

you and mayday wave at him then look back at miguel. “you’re so bossy to him. lay off him.”

the tall brunette rolls his eyes, disliking the idea of you defending hobie. “that delinquent isn’t intelligent enough to obey orders. if he was, i wouldn’t have to.” he folds his arms over his chest.

you shoot him an unimpressed look, eyebrows and lips flat. “he does obey orders, he’s just chill unlike you who’s angry all the time.”

miguel lightly glares at you but could never last forever. he just seems to never stay mad at you, even if he wanted to. before he could say something, the cute sounds of mayday’s giggles interrupts him. you, him and peter watch the baby laugh, making you and peter smile at her in awe. miguel had to resist smiling so he doesn’t screw up his intimidating demeanor.

“mr grumpy bug is a bit extra grumpy today, huh?” you whisper to mayday but still loud enough for miguel to hear, which he did of course. the little girl laughs as she turns to him, extending out her tiny hands as a sign for him to pick her up.

with a sigh, miguel carefully picks up the baby and carries her in his hands with a secure grip. the redhead baby smiles and babbles at him. he was so close to actually smile but immediately caught himself in the act. the last thing he wants is bombing his ego at work, especially in front of others.

“say cheese!” peter held up his phone and snaps a picture of the two without warning.

mayday is of course smiling and miguel is frowning like always. the amount of pictures peter has of them two is the same, a smile and a frown.

you cover your mouth to conceal your giggle, how adorable they both look. miguel heard it, making him feel embarrassed. there are definite hints of pink staining his cheeks. such a shy schoolboy.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

“how come you never told me there’s a burger of your face on it?” you try resisting the temptation to giggle in the middle of your question but failed to.

miguel groans out of annoyance, knowing you’d bring this up one day. “it wasn’t my idea. they developed it without my knowledge.” he doesn’t look back you, solely focused on the orange screens.

“i tried it, bomb as fuck. i understand why everyone loves it so much. i’ve never eaten a blue burger before so that was an experience.” you chuckle. “it’s kinda cute how they make your mask, the little red eyes on the blue bun. whoever came up with it is a genius.” you snack on a bag of doritos.

“they’re not a genius, it’s a ridiculous idea and should get rid of it.” frustration and annoyance laced in his tone, his hands curled up into fists on the desk.

“stop being a big grumpy bug and let people have their fun. like i said, it’s a good burger.” you said.

he side-eyed you with a offended look, cheeks slightly flushed. “i’m not a grumpy bug.”

a smirk graces your lips. “yes, you are.” you get up from the chair and slowly approach him. “you are a bug and always grumpy so… you’re a grumpy bug.”

miguel grunts in response, looking back at the monitors as an attempt to ignore your presence. god you get him so easily riled up. he hates it. or does he?

you tilt your head, staring up at him but more precisely his crimson eyes. two pretty rubies that are just so mesmerizing. to have color changing eyes seems so cool, you’re low-key jealous. red eyes seem badass, just so intimidating and pretty in unison. if you were to pick a color, definitely red like miguel’s.

miguel gets nervous from your staring. palms slowly turning clammy, very tiny droplets of sweat on his forehead, his pounding heart. god he’s never felt so nervous about being under someone’s gaze.

what are you doing to him?

“what?” his intimidating voice rings in your ears but doesn’t snap you out of trance.

“you have pretty eyes.” you confess so casually, still mesmerized by those rubies he has for eyes.

that makes his eyes tear away from the monitor and look at you with a confused look. miguel’s taken aback realizing how close you are to him, practically a few inches away. he grew more flustered.

“what?” he sounds genuinely confused.

you find his eyes pretty? are you serious? how can you find those infuriating red dots fascinating? miguel loathes them, wishes he never had that ability but it’s part of his spider dna. he isn’t a regular spider-man, not bitten like the others. only injected against his will which gained him these odd abilities.

but you find it fascinating?

that does something to him. it’s unclear whether it’s a good bad thing. either way, it shocks him.

unsure on how to respond to such a statement, miguel averts your gaze with a head shake and looks back at the orange monitors to forget the topic. those flushed cheeks still intact.

a smile graces your lips at his reaction. how cute, you thought. “i know you don’t like them but i do. i think they’re badass, gives me terminator vibes.” you swore the corners of his lips twitched upward but they don’t. “welp, imma head out. daisy misses me and i miss her.” using the watch he gave you, you opened up a portal, the vibrant colors appearing.

slowly walking towards it, you look back at miguel, who’s gaze is still on the screens. “later, grumpy bug.” with that, he glances at you but you already walked through the portal before he could say bye.

he watches the portal disappears after you, leaving himself alone in his office like before. the warmth of the room vanished the minute you left, now cold like it usually is. he misses that warmth; the warmth that you provided. miguel glances down at the floor where you were standing a few minutes ago, your compliment repeating in his mind.

you are something so… alluring.

your compliment repeats in his mind for the rest of the day, making his heart warm. for the first time, miguel smiles. luckily no one is there to witness it. maybe you will one day, you’ll be the only person.

‘your eyes are pretty too’ he wanted to say.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it’s nighttime by the time you arrived home. daisy barks in excitement for your return as she rushes over to you. you swiftly scoop her up in your arms, petting her with a loving touch as she attacks your face with licks. oh she definitely missed you and you missed her as well. after a sweet moment, you set her down on the floor and walk over to your room. taking off the watch and placing it on your dresser, you head straight to the bathroom. afterwards, you walk to the kitchen to grab leftovers for dinner.

after eating and washing the dishes, you return to your room for the night. grabbing a nightgown from the drawer, you hear daisy growling. swiftly turning around, you look at her confusingly.

“what’s wrong, mamas?” you ask.

she never growls unless there’s something wrong.

oh you don’t like that.

anxiety slowly began creeping through your veins. grabbing the nearest object, which was your water bottle that has some weight in it, you cautiously walk towards the door. you grip onto the water bottle tightly, preparing to take a swing.

a million thoughts ran through your mind. it can’t be miguel, you just saw and he’s still at HQ. he wouldn’t just show up unexpectedly. he would land on your balcony and wait for your approval like tradition.

suddenly, you hear a small whine which sounds like pain. it’s daisy. turning around, a sudden force slams you against the wall. a scream erupts from your throat as your back hits aggressively against the wall before a hand covers your mouth, another hand pinning your hand against the wall. the water bottle drops onto the floor. some dark figure stands in front of you, unable to see who it is due the dark atmosphere and your slight blurry vision. you squirm under their grip, trying to break free but ultimately fail. muffled squeals vibrant against their palm as you continue squirming. you let out a yelp when you feel a sharp jab in your neck. the motherfucker must’ve injected something in you because you start to feel woozy. eyes fluttering and body weakening.

“nice to see you again, my dear.” a familiar voice said followed by a very familiar manic laugh just before darkness consumes your vision.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai @rinverse @colorfulbluebirdpainter @razertail18 @shadowzena43

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[invisiblestringmm]

chapter two

cut open my heart, right at the scar

chapter index

author: thank you for staying. feedback will be greatly appreciated!

warnings: soft smut, alcohol mention, drinking, anxiety mention.

word count: 2.571k

Some people call it faith, a few others call it manifestation. It could be a mix of both — after all, what could be more powerful than an innocent child wishing for something every night as if her life hangs on it?

You didn’t know if the stars and the whole cosmos were aligned precisely to make your daughter happy, but you felt wretched knowing that her happiness meant some tough times ahead for you; all this time, she never had what she wanted the most because you’ve been keeping it from her. 

For a good motive, though.

Knowing you so well, practically as if you shared the same brain, it didn’t take much for Willow to discover what was wrong when she was determined to investigate a little. It began when you called up the office to inform them you’d be working from home due to a sudden heavy cold, then Willow found out that Lily was staying at your parent’s for the next two days; usually, the time she stayed when something was up and you needed time isolated. Then, you ignored her text messages, and also her calls when she decided to insist a bit more, knowing you’d shut off from everyone.

But you couldn’t ignore the banging on your front door.

Willow groaned when she found you still in your pyjamas, dark circles around your usually sparkly eyes, and your hair up in a messy bun. She had her brows furrowed and a large paper bag from your favourite bakery in her hand, you sighed knowing what was probably in it and how much you needed it along with a bottle of red wine - once you were done with work.

“I’ve stalked a little,” she confessed, stepping into your flat once you opened the door a bit more, giving her space. “What are the odds?”

“There aren’t any, it’s called karma and I fully accept my punishment,” you went straight to the point as you threw yourself on the sofa after grabbing the paper bag from Willow’s hands; the freshly baked chocolate muffins and croissants inside relieved your nerves only for a second.

“Don’t say that, Y/n. We both know you had your reasons,” she rubbed your back, making an effort to reassure you the minute she noticed your eyes glistening with tears. Willow had been there through it all, from the night you met Mason. 

FOUR YEARS AGO

The loud music and the bright lights were annoying, to say the least. Still, you were in such a great mood that you couldn’t stop your hips from perfectly moving right and left, to the sound of every beat, and you were having fun. It was Willow’s birthday and, as a sucker for birthdays, your mission was to have the greatest time and make sure your group of friends had a blast too. In your little world, you poured champagne into your best friend’s mouth and allowed her to pour it into yours too, but you knew Willow’s reflexes weren’t the best when sober so why would they be when she was already wasted?

“Fuuuuck!” The black slipper dress was glued to your body, but you couldn’t hold a loud laugh as Willow followed you. “Fuck, fuck! Whatever, fuck! Let’s go get another drink.” 

The thin line between carefree and careless was already there, even more so when you were bold enough to ask for tequila, after shamelessly flirting with the bartender and a few other guys around, and returned to your booth with one bottle in each hand, knowing the group would want some shots. Almost stumbling on the last step that gave you access to the booth, sitting on the burgundy leather sofa, you frowned when a towel was given to you. Looking up, you found that cute guy who you’d been staring at, holding it for you and that big smile that made the corner of his eyes wrinkle flashing at you. 

“I thought you might need this, Miss Champagne.”

“How thoughtful of you to help me with my champagne problems…?”

“Mason.” He winked and your heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, swooning for a guy you just met. At a club, and completely drunk.

Mason was a cute name, but right now you could only think of how it’d sound if he made you moan it. You didn’t know, but he thought about that multiple times since you walked into the booth next to the one he shared with his friends and watched you, he thought of how those hips would move on top of his instead of moving to the beat of each song that filled the place. He thought how badly he wanted to just hold it and make you help move them for him. You were fun, your energy matched his and he was looking for an escape. And, on top of that, you were breathtakingly gorgeous and couldn’t care less for who he was when he told you, and you stated that the only athletes you cared about were swimmers-Italians, to be more specific.

As the night went on and Willow was now forming a line of boys to kiss - twenty, to match her age - you wanted to go and stop her but you knew you wouldn’t be able. Instead, you switched the first guy for one of Mason’s friends and begged him to kiss your friend so good she wouldn’t want any other. Declan was on for the mission and they disappeared together after the kiss. 

You danced together, shared a few more shots of tequila and when Mason asked if you wanted to go to his place, there was no point playing difficult, you both wanted the same thing: fuck each other senseless. He got you all naked before you could even reach the stairs.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Masey.” You pouted, making him giggle at the nickname. Mentally, he was already fucking you and you could tell that by the way he looked at you. “And you’re perfect just like that, I don’t want you wearing nothing but the adorable flush on your cheeks while you’re here or I might have to punish you.” 

“Hm? I think I’ll put my clothes back on, then.” On your tiptoes, you reached for his lips and brushed them with yours, his warm minted breath making you close your eyes and let out a low and hoarse moan that only worked as an incentive for Mason to grab your thighs and carry you into the living room, straight to his large dark sofa. “Too many clothes, Mason.”

He nodded and quickly got rid of the navy blue Nike hoodie and the basic white shirt at once, leaving his bare chest exposed. Your mouth watered as your eyes wandered through his body, noticing how beautifully sculpted it was, all in the right places. But what caught your attention, innocently for the first time of the night, was the bulge under his faded blue jeans. You gulped.

“Like what you see?” Mason grinned and you quickly nodded, reaching out to unbutton his jeans. He softly slapped your hand. “Why so eager, baby?” The pet name made you moan, along with the tip of his fingers touching your nipples, then between your boobs and making the dangerous way to your lower stomach. 

“Mason…” You felt your pussy clench around nothing and he gave you another grin as he made himself comfortable on the sofa and you watched his head disappear between your legs.

You felt his breath against your pussy, making your eyes roll and your back arch. “Such a beautiful pussy, I bet it tastes so good.” Mason pressed his lips against your inner thigh as his fingers now played with your juices, teasing you, making your whole body shiver and crave his touch. It felt like you were about to lose your fucking mind when he circled your clit with his thumb and his warm tongue played with your folds. Mason’s moans while eating your pussy were heavenly, he knew what he was doing and enjoyed it, but you craved for more. 

“Mason, please,” You whimpered and your eyes met. Those big, brown eyes met yours and he lifted his hea, the sight of his lips wet from your juices making you bite your lower lip as hard as you could.

“Say it.”

“I need your cock inside me, now. I need you to fuck me.”

And he did, each thrust harder and deeper than the previous as Mason devoured you. Your sweat mixed with his, your moans, and the way he fucked you was something else. When his thrusts started to become sloppy and his breathing heavier, Mason quickly flipped you so you could ride him and your only goal was to make that man cum so hard he’d forget his name. 

“You take me so well, Y/n. Such a good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around him when he praised you. Leaning your body forward, you held his jaw with your hand and let it slowly slip to his throat. Mason just nodded and you grinned, finally squeezing it softly, making him moan louder. 

“You gonna cum for me, Mason?” He nodded again, holding your hips steady as he now moved his hips up again at his own clumsy pace. “Then look at me when you do it and while I cum all over your cock.”

He repeatedly moaned your name, his grunts only encouraging you to squeeze his throat a bit harder, letting it go when a final loud grunt parted his lips and he came, followed by you, with your body finally crashing onto his.

“That was fucking great.” Mason giggled and you nodded in return, giggling too as you rolled to the side. 

“For drunk sex, it was.” Looking down at his body once again, to appreciate the view next to you, you instantly frowned when you noticed his uncovered and still-hard cock. “Mason, I thought you were wearing a condom?”

PRESENT DAY

The streetlights softly brightened your living room in the most soothing yet nearly depressing way; Willow was gone for a few hours, leaving you and your memories to yourself. During the day, you didn’t talk much about your current situation and what you’d do - if you’d do anything or just let things happen, and go with the flow, but still with some sort of control over the whole thing. Your thoughts were everywhere but also focused on two people: Lily and Mason. You knew that, eventually, you’d find yourself in this situation - it was painful, it made it hard to even breathe, and you never really prepared for it because deep down you spent four years hoping it would take lots and lots of years for Mason to be in your life again, as unfair as it was to Lily. And being unfair to your own daughter was, by far, the most disgusting thing you could do in life. She brought you nothing but love and joy. 

Willow would often say that before being a mum, you were a human being. A woman who had been hurt by a man, and then you had to raise this man’s child. But you knew you couldn’t use this excuse anymore, it was time to face the consequences of keeping Lily hidden from her father and his family, and above all, stop punishing your daughter for your poor choices in life.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Jaz asking if the plans you had for Saturday were still up, and you apologised saying that you had the flu, but that Lily was more than allowed to go and you’d talk to your mum to arrange everything. After another lie to protect yourself, since there was no flu, you thought that maybe opening a bottle of white wine would help you through what it would be a long night awake, alone with your own thoughts and desperate attempts to minimise all the collateral damage that would find its way into your life once you revealed the truth. First to your daughter, then you’d have to hunt Mason Mount again.

His reaction was what frightened you the most. What would he do? What would he say?

Would he take Lily from you?

Would he hate Lily and reject her?

Every question that crossed your mind blurred your sight, made your heart clench and felt like a stab right through your heart. 

You would never let him take Lily from you, but the thought of him rejecting her was just as painful, because that little girl was something else and she deserved the whole world. She deserved a daddy that would be entirely devoted to her, just like yours had been since the day you were born.

Already feeling your body welcoming the familiar floating sensation caused by the wine, you allowed yourself to stalk Mason a little - something you hadn’t done in the longest time. It didn’t surprise you that he still looked pretty much the same. Everytime you caught his face on TV, you avoided looking too much because it hurt and bothered you deeply, but now, scrolling through his pictures you noticed that his smile was still the same and the wrinkles around his eyes was something Lily had inherited. The soft redness on his nose too. Lily had a lot of him, even if you knew so little about Mason, despite sharing a life with him.

The Instagram “message” button burned under your finger, but you went back to scrolling through his pictures, because what exactly would you say? 

“Hi, remember me? That day I went to your house and you shoved me off, I was going to tell you I was carrying your child so I’ve decided to hide her from you for a period of four years”.

Gosh, what a fucked up situation you were in. Besides, what was the chance he’d actually reply?

Liking one of his pictures was subtle, he wouldn’t notice. One like amongst the millions he was getting post World Cup. You’d let the universe decide if things should run its natural course or you’d have to put yourself in a situation you’ve lived before: ringing his doorbell and telling him the biggest news of his life, but four years later, and pray for the best outcome there could be of this situation. You wondered what your family would say, what his family would say, how everyone would treat you after but you couldn’t expect much. You were hiding a child from her own right to have both sides of her family whilst growing up, despite your personal reasons. 

What would the media say, if it ever came to that? 

“Heavens, I think I’m gonna vomit…” You mumbled, the combination of alcohol and thoughts of your daughter’s precious face in the media, on gossip websites, made some tears fall freely down your cheeks. You still forced a large gulp of wine, to ease the anxiety that was creeping in. Half of the bottle was gone.

You fucked up, greatly and badly.

With tears still wetting your cheeks, looking absolutely pathetic, you frowned at the notification that popped on your screen. 

Mason Mount was officially back into your life.

In fact, he never really left. You had the most special part of him with you, and you could only hope he’d see it the exact same way.

[tojivu]

love, kisses & croissants ⋆ naoya zenin

an. naoya you've infiltrated my brain.... ib the song where the lyrics go "i love you i love you i love you"

cw. sfw. naoya is kind of an asshole. gn!reader, but not proofread so please lmk any gender references if i made any.

playing. because she goes by the 1975.

naoya zenin would press kisses onto the soft, supple skin of your cheek as soon as he wakes. no good morning, no stretch — he reaches and bends from where he is to let his lips latch onto you.

two kisses later and he's finally greeting you, whether you're awake or not.

"morning." his voice is raspy, throat dry from the cold air of the bedroom you two shared. he brings his fingers to brush the stray hairs away from your face.

how naoya loves your expression when you sleep: an overwhelming need to hold and kiss you, make you feel as comfortable as possible so you can continue your slumber — how he finds you prettiest when you're unaware of it.

your eyelids flutter as the sunlight seeping in through the curtains sting; a long exhale leaves your lungs and you find yourself inching closer to naoya — who was warm amidst the temperature of the room.

he lays face up, shirt nowhere to be found (as usual). your husband was always one to show off even when sleeping — you're able to feel his skin graze your fingertips, some spots more prominent than others due to scarring: you've memorised the position of each and every one of them on his body.

"morning, naoya." you smile lazily at the man under your touch. he doesn't smile back, but you think the way his arm pulls you closer says everything his face doesn't.

naoya zenin was a puzzle, most days — it took you a long time before you could even touch him without earning a complaint or an irritated expression.

"stop touching me." a grunt and an eye roll, every single time.

it was the night after your wedding. you remember it vividly, the order of events engrained into your mind and heart. you never want to forget the hour that naoya let you love him.

it wasn't much, and you think if you told anyone that they might laugh in your face: most couples would scoff and say that the first kiss should have happened long before the knot was tied.

you think you would've gone the whole marriage without any touching. before the ceremony, naoya would only let you hold his hands or fix his tie — mundane things that held no passion — or maybe very little, not enough to remind you both you were to be married.

it was naoya who pulled you in that night, hands on your hips as he pressed his lips onto yours. it's inexperienced, and you want to giggle but you know you can't (due to the crowd and family attending the ceremony). it would be much too embarrassing for your husband.

when he pulls away, his lips are glossy and his eyes are enlarged — as if he's never experienced this feeling before.

it's just then that naoya zenin realises he loves kissing you. the feeling of your lips so close to his skin, the feeling of laying on clouds when he tastes your favourite lip balm. the feeling of you.

he felt embarrassed that his clan witnessed such a thing. naoya's weak in the knees in front of you, someone who was nowhere near his power or authority. he finds it annoying just how much control you have over him, but he thinks it's okay — for now — as long as you don't betray him.

he hopes you don't.

naoya doesn't bother saying a word in the morning, only kissing you where he feels you need to be — your forehead, wrist, cheek, lips, jaw, neck.

the small discovery he made on the night you two got married had his mornings set for life: a kiss as soon as he woke, a gentle 'morning' followed by another kiss. he's hooked.

sometimes he returns all bloodied from brawls: wounded but still the victor, dragging himself into the home he shares with you (and the servants he keeps around) — naoya appreciates your warm embrace and the soft kisses you pepper on his face. you complain about how he smells like metal, but you hold him anyway.

"[name]," naoya snaps you out of your reminiscing-like daydream. "we should go out for breakfast today."

you roll your eyes at the fact that this is what your husband stopped your trip down memory lane for.

"we have chefs for a reason, naoya." you remind him, as if he doesn't know that already — he orders them around almost all the time, mostly due to your random cravings.

"i know."

"then?" you ask, "i thought you hated being around random people."

"i don't like being around lowlives," he clarifies. "but we could spend some time together. if you want."

"if i want?" you giggle, poking at his cheeks. this would've gotten you killed if you were with the naoya you knew all those years ago. "i didn't know you cared about what i want."

"don't act like that." naoya's grip around your waist tightens, your stomach pressing against the side of his abdomen. "just say yes or no. i'm a very busy man."

"are you making space for me in your tight schedule, busy naoya?" you tease. his ears burn a bright shade of red, and he tuts. "i'm feeling really special. you're so good to me."

"cause you are," naoya admits. how vulnerable he seemed that it made him feel like throwing up. "[name]."

naoya zenin was a puzzle, yes, but you think he's gotten easier to solve by now. a kiss and some praise and he's all set, sarcastic or not — whatever you say has him weak in the knees. it's almost scary how much power you hold.

"i love you, my busy man," your hands cup his cheeks and turn his head towards you, and you press a quick kiss onto his lips. "i'm thinking about croissants."

you earn a flustered naoya, cheeks reddened and eyebrows furrowed to hide his crystal clear expression. he was starting to feel his heart pound.

"we can get croissants. i know a good place."

"it's probably expensive, then." you roll your eyes.

"who do you think i am?"

"my dearest husband." you flirt. it hurts to be so cheesy this early in the morning, but you think it's okay because it's got naoya blushing like a tomato.

he doesn't say anything. naoya is fighting the deafening sound of his heartbeat in his ears and the electricity he feels flowing through his veins, along with the smile creeping up on his face.

"i love you," he replies a minute later.

"i never knew you were a romantic, naoya."

"i love you," he repeats, as if you're losing your hearing. "i love you."

the words flow like water. it's a disgusting phrase he never thought he'd utter, but here he is — repeating it like a prayer to you.

"i heard you the first time." you giggle again, running your fingers through his hair. "loud and clear."

"i love you, [name]," he mumbles as his eyes get gentler by the second, his gaze softening the more you play with his locks. he thinks he'll fall back asleep any moment now. "i love you so much."

"i know, naoya," you assure him, head drawing closer to his to peck his forehead. "and i love you more."

"you can beat me in very little things, [name]." naoya replies, eyes blinking slowly at yours. "this isn't included."

"i beat you at wii that one time. you're terrible at wii golf."

"i play real golf," he scoffs. "not in some video game for children. it's harder in real life."

"such a sore loser."

you suppose you're a sore loser, too. you'd never be able to beat him at the 'i love you' game — he'd never let you — but that didn't mean you couldn't try.

you've got plenty of time, anyway.

041223 — Bue i'm gonna cry this is so ?!??? idk what this even IS

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Sweet Tooth

summary: Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish becomes a frequent customer in your café from one day to the other, always ordering the sweetest options on the menu. You start to prefer his presence over that of all your other regulars, which is why he leaves such a large gap when he's suddenly gone for three months.

notes: don’t drink coffee, so idk which one is the best – pls don’t come at me if you hate it!!

warnings: fem!reader, smut, lots and lots of food mentions

tagged: @ghostsoapgirl @devstinyy @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper (msg me to be added/removed from a taglist <3)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

When the client dings the bell on your counter a few times, you expected him to be someone rude, probably annoying and hard to handle. Instead, he leaned over the counter and gave you a bright smile.

“Could I get one a’ those things there?” he asked, pointing to a caramel chocolate slice sitting in the display.

“A chocolate caramel slice?” you replied, and he shrugged.

“Sure. Could I get a coffee with that?”

“What kind?” you asked, and he gave you another dazzling smile.

“Whatever the lady thinks is best.”

You snorted at his obvious flirting, but nodded. “I’ll make you a mocha to go with that slice.” You suggested.

“Thanks love.” He replied, handing over some cash. As you glanced outside, you noticed that it was already late. Close to closing time, actually.

“Isn’t six a little late for a coffee?” you asked him as you handed his coffee over. The café was deserted of other customers, probably due to the opening times. A regular sat in the corner, scribbling onto her notepad.

“I’ve got jetlag anyway.”

“Where you coming from?” you asked.

“Mexico.” He answered. “Little bit more tropical than ‘round here.”

You glanced around once more. It didn’t seem like anyone needed your assistance, so you slid onto the bench across from him.

“Home from vacation then?” you asked.

“I wish.” He replied.

“You’re not from around here.” You said. “Never seen you.”

“Never home for long. The name’s John, by the way.”

“Y/N.” you replied. “You should come here more often. Those caramel slices don’t get sold on their own.”

“You work here on the other days too?” John asked.

“Yep. It’s my café, so I’m always behind the counter.”

“Then I’m sure to come back.” John replied,  

~~~

As promised, he came back the next day, this time for breakfast. It became apparent very quickly that he had a sweet tooth. After two chocolate croissants and a brownie, he finally brought his plate back to you. You knew it was an excuse to talk to you, but you certainly did not mind.

“How do you stay in shape eating all that?” you asked, taking the plate from him.

“My Lieutenant’s a tough guy.” He shrugged.

“You’re military?”

“Special ops.”

“Do you have one of those callsign thingies as well?” you asked, and he snorted.

“Yeah. Soap.”

“Soap?”

“I’m good at cleaning and bad at losing, love.” He replied. There it was again. The nickname that made your stomach somersault and you grin like an idiot.

“You still there, hen?” he asked, and your eyes snapped up.

“Yeah, of course, why?”

“You’re staring.”

You knew you were blushing. “I wasn’t.”

John laughed again, stacking his empty plates. He grabbed a phone from his pocket, sliding it across the table.

“Nokia?” you asked. “Does that come with the special ops package?”

“Pretty much.” He replied. “Are you going to put your number in for me, love? Don’t wanna come back ‘ere and see the café bein’ closed.”

“Will I be opening the café for you in the middle of the night then?” you asked, putting your number into the phone.

“Nah. Just wanna have someone to talk to.” Johnny replied. He left some time afterwards, promising to come back soon.

~~~

‘Soon’ turned out to be three months. And when John did return, you were in the process of closing up. You froze when you saw him standing in the doorway. He was still wearing some of his military uniform, a heavy duffel bag in his left hand, his other holding his ancient phone.

He looked forlorn, standing there, as if he wasn’t quite sure why he’d come.

“Hey.” You mumbled, immediately feeling like an idiot. You let your cleaning supplies sink, walking towards John.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to get a reaction out of him. Slowly, he nodded, before changing his mind and shaking his head. Hugging him felt instinctual, and he hugged you back almost immediately.

At some point, he let go of you, and you carefully maneuvered him to sit at one of the tables, slipping behind the counter to make him a cup of tea. John didn’t talk as much as he normally did, and you sat with him in silence for a while.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you asked. He seemed to think for a while, before a hint of a smile returned to his face.

“Let me take you out.” He said finally.

It wasn’t something you had to think about, even though his response seemed a little cheesy.

“I’d like that.” You replied, and his smile widened a bit more.

He texted you the next morning, using abbreviations that you were sure no one else on the planet was using. It was an invite to an Italian place, one that was near your café and you knew was good. So much so that it made your stomach rumble at the thought of going there tonight.

For once, you were the one walking towards John, who was already sitting at a small table, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant.

As you approached him, John stood up to greet you with a warm smile. He pulled out your chair for you and you sat down, feeling your heart flutter at the gesture.

You both ordered your meals and began to chat about anything and everything. Even though you thought it impossible, John still managed to order the sweetest main course on the menu.

John told you about some of his experiences in the military, repeating over and over how he was leaving out the redacted parts, but you still found yourself hanging onto every word.

As the night wore on, you found yourself feeling more and more drawn to him. There was something about him that just made you feel comfortable and safe. And his easy laughter and charming personality didn't hurt either. When it came to the check, John insisted to pay, arguing that it was just him making up for his tips at the cafe (which had already been more than generous).

And as if that hadn’t been enough, John walked you back to your café after dinner. When the sidewalk became slimmer and slimmer, you felt your knuckles brush against his. You weren’t bold enough to grab his hand, but Johnny seemed to notice your hesitation, gently grabbing your hand.

“I hope it’s not too sweaty.” You said sheepishly, and John laughed, shaking his head.

“Woulda probably been my hand, if anything.” He replied.

“You know you don’t have to walk me to the café, right?” you asked softly. He shook his head in response.

“My Ma would kill me if I didn’t.” John said.

When you reached the door, he turned to face you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. There was a moment of thick silence, before he cleared his throat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, his words only half a statement.

“The café’s closed.” You told him, knocking against the glass where the opening times were displayed.

“After tomorrow, then?” Johnny asked, and you nodded. He pulled you into a quick hug, before turning to leave. For a moment, you debated what to do-

“Fuck it.” You mumbled, grabbing his hand. John turned around, and before you could overthink your decision even more, you pulled him in for a kiss. A not-so-sweet or gentle one this time.

He pulled you so close your feet barely touched the ground. When you broke the kiss, he had a wide smile on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Didn’t want you to go.” You admitted with a shrug.

“That’s one way o’ doin’ it.” He laughed, before he pulled you back in.

Almost in a flurry, you pulled him around the coffeeshop and up the stairs behind the building, into your apartment. Soap kicked the door shut behind him, lifting you up into the air. Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically.

Maybe you should have told him where the bedroom was, because Johnny seemed to halt for a moment. Before you could say something to him, he set you down on your kitchen table, his mouth finding your mouth.

As you felt a warmth spread through your stomach, his hands began to brush over your thighs, grabbing them with large hands, almost as if he was asking for your permission. His touch, even through clothed legs, made you feel dizzy, and a small moan escaped your mouth as his lips found yours again.

Eventually, the tension became too much to bear, and your hands slipped down towards his pants. Already, he was straining against the fabric, and that made you feel even dizzier, even more incoherent. All words left your brain, leaving your mind fuzzy.

Still, your hands worked on their own, slowly opening his pants. Johnny groaned in response, encouraging you to continue. Through the fabric of his boxers, you palmed his dick, and he leaned into your touch, pulling you even closer to him, towards the edge of the table.

Suddenly, there is a sense of frenzy that hadn’t been there before, a rush of taking off clothes. Your apartment was still dark, but when Johnny took off his shirt, kicking his pants to the ground, you could finally feel him. The strength that seemed to run through his muscles and lied right under his skin might have scared you, but right now, it was exhilarating.

Your own shirt was flung somewhere in your kitchen, your pants pooling under the table as Johnny pushed himself between your legs, his hands wandering downwards until-

“You’re so…” he began, trailing off. His fingers trailed up the insides of your thighs, setting your skin on fire, until they found your cunt. Quickly, he spit on his fingers, before beginning to rub your clit. Your head fell onto his shoulder, a groan leaving you. His mouth still on your neck, his fingers entered you.

He moved slowly at first, letting you accommodate before he sped up his movements, finding that spot inside of you that made you scream. Instinctually, your mouth found his shoulder, biting down. He seemed to like the pain, a loud moan escaping his mouth. You swore you could feel him smirk.

When your mouth left his shoulder, his hand shot up, holding your neck as his other hand began moving eratically. Inside of you, you could feel an orgasm building. You must have begged Soap for something, because his other hand slipped into you again, fingers crooking up.

You swore you saw stars. It sounded like a cliché, like something that would never happen to you, but you did.

“Can I?” he asked after a moment, his hand still on your thigh. Taking a breath, you nodded. With that, his boxers were gone as well, and Johnny lifted you up, slipping into you slowly. There was a small stretch, but you had already come once and he took his time with you, again.

Slowly, Johnny began to move, looking at you for any signs of discomfort, but as another moan feel from your mouth, he kissed you again, moving his lips against yours as if he was a drowning man and you air keeping him alive.

“Can I fuck you against the wall?” he asked, his tone almost begging, and that stoked something inside of you.

“Please.” You replied, gasping as he picked you up, carrying you again. All the while, Johnny stayed inside of you, until your back hit a wall of your apartment. It didn’t matter which one, only that Johnny was still moving, still making you feel good.

Johnny seemed to be able to read your mind, fulfilling your every need. His hands were all over you, palming your breasts, stroking along your curves, holding you close. He made you feel beautiful.

Your own hands were grappling to find something to hold onto. At some point, your nails dug into his back, raking downwards. You attempted to be gentle at first, but he spurred you on, asking you for more, almost begging. He liked pain, you realized.

And so, you increased the pressure when you felt like it. When Johnny thrust into you, you raked your nails down his skin, so harshly that you thought they would draw blood.

Your second orgasm took you by surprise, and it was good that Soap was holding you up, because you knew that your legs were shaking too hard to hold your weight. He followed soon after, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your body.

Afterwards, he set you down on your sofa, helping you clean yourself up.

“Your legs are a little shaky.” He noted smugly.

You huffed in response. “I think your arms aren’t doing too well either.”

Johnny laughed, handing you a glass of water as he dropped onto the sofa next to you.

“Seems like you really like Italian cuisine.” He said, and you laughed, letting your head drop onto his shoulder.

“Maybe I just like Scots.” You replied.

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he pulled you into his arms again.

“You really like hugs, huh?” you noticed. Johnny smiled, nodding almost bashfully.

“Are we doing this again? He asked.

You looked up at him. “The hugging part, the eating part or the fucking part?”

“All of the above?” he asked. When you agreed, Johnny kissed you again, taking his time with you until you felt your heart speed up.

“Oh god, if you don’t stop we’ll have to go for a second round.” You groaned.

Johnny smirked. “I wouldn’t mind that.”