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deepdisireslonging · 1 day

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His And Hers Need

You instigate Jason into having his way with you after over a month apart. Quickly, he becomes more than you can handle.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings/Promises: Dick being annoying (because you told him to), Fluff, Smut, possessiveness, p in v, creampie (multiple), sorta cum-play, just smutty-smut goodness

Word Count: 2600

Note: Haven’t written a quick smutty thing for Jason in a while. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Happy reading!

“Don’t hit me.”

Jason looked up from his book. He widened his eyes, readjusting to reality before he answered. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not that I’m adverse to the idea, but why would I do that?”

Dick gingerly sat down on the low table in front of the library couch Jason was sprawled across. “I have a confession to make.”

If his battle-brother hadn’t looked so sheepish, Jason would have laughed. Instead, he sat the book to one side and gave him his full attention. The subject of their discussion wasn’t a mystery. He’d been aware of it for a while. “You have a crush on her-”

“I have a crush on your girl.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “Not unusual. We’ve entertained the same girl before all in the name of Wayne. But usually, I’ve gotten to her first. And now I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You’re gonna get over it.”

“How?”

“What?” Jason crossed his arms as he laid back.

“That is – how does one… get… over it? I’ve never had someone beat me to a girl before.” Dick hoped his ‘nervousness’ was covering up the deep trench of teasing he was digging. “Usually it’s been: I see her, I like her, I get her, we part ways.”

There were about ten more seconds of this conversation before steam was going to start billowing out of Jason’s ears. “That’s… enlightening. All in the name of Wayne, right?”

Suddenly Dick’s mouth was very dry. He swallowed, searching for moisture as if that would be enough to cool down the rage picking up speed in his brother’s chest. “Got- got any suggestions?”

“Mhmm. You skip to the ‘we part ways’ step and forget about her.”

“That’ll be hard since she patrols with us all the time.”

“You’ll figure it out, Detective.” With a growl simmering in the pit of his chest, Jason snatched up his book. Despite it being closed already, he opened it halfway just so he could snap it shut in front of his brother’s face. He left the room quickly.

Taking Jason’s vacated spot on the couch, Dick had to chuckle. “Hope you’re ready, Y/N. He’s headed your way.”

“Thanks, Dick. I owe you one,” you said over the coms.

“That you do. If he doesn’t take all the frustration out on you like you hoped, he’s gonna bruise me black and blue. And I don’t need any more of it to match my suit.”

“Big baby.”

***

You slipped the powered-off com out of your ear and slid into position on your bed. Absently, you flicked smooth the corner of the waterproof blanket working as your seat. The book in your hand was the same title Jason had snapped in Dick’s face a second ago. It was a way to keep connected when you’d been pulled on separate missions for the past month. But the raggedy see-through tank top and lounge short-shorts were wholly yours. There was barely enough fabric to hide what you had planned.

Even though you knew he was coming, you still jumped when Jason slammed open the door. He locked it without a word and shed his sweatshirt.

“Well hello to you too.” Some of your resolve withered away under the hunger in his eyes. You tossed the book onto the nightstand and backed deeper into the pillows. “Jay-”

“Need you.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “I can see that. Jay, baby, what’s happened?” But he was on you too quick. Snagging your ankle, he pulled you to the center of the bed where he could stretch his whole body over you. You fought to remain attached to reality while he kissed every inch of your bared skin. “Jason. Are you okay? What’s-”

“You’re my girl. My woman. Anybody else can fuck right off.”

You grinned into his lips as he kissed you deeply, possessively. Already your body was undulating to feel him press against you. His hair was thick and cool against your fingers as you buried them into his curls. When you gave them a gentle tug, he groaned into the underside of your jaw. “It’s not like that was ever up for debate. But-” You froze as he stopped the onslaught to hover over you.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he murmured. “But I realized I haven’t been taking care of you here of late. I’ve missed you, is all.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead with a tenderness you hadn’t shared with him in a long while.

You missed him too.

“I’m right here.”

With a sigh, he let you guide his head to rest under your chin. He laid across you. The press of his body over yours, and the calming solidity of your body under his, it initiated the reconnection of your hearts. Soon, your breathing was in sync. You would have been at risk of falling asleep, but Jason kept wriggling. The possessive throb of his manhood had not relented. And, pressed as close as he was, he was hyperaware of how many layers you weren’t wearing. Your eyelids fluttered with the light trailing of his fingers up your sides. The gentle kisses he laid on your chest and to the underside of your jaw. When his thigh slid between yours, you couldn’t resist rolling your hips.

“We don’t have to.”

“Hmm?”

Jason lazily smoothed his thumb across your shoulder. “We don’t have to. We can just lay here, if you want.”

“Nuh-uh.” Biting your lip, you inhaled deeply enough to press Jason’s face deeper between your breasts. “You can’t just slam the door open, say you need me, kiss me all over, and then say we can just lay here.” He looked up in time to see the wicked gleam in your eye. “Not a chance.”

Enthralled, Jason’s mouth pulled to one side with a smirk as you guided his hand to reach under your shorts. What he found made him pant against your skin.

“Need you,” you whined.

“I’m right here.”

He sat up. And removed his sweatpants and shorts. Smoothing his hands up and down your thighs, he removed your shorts while you tossed the tank top to the floor. His breath staggered. Laid bared before him, you resisted the urge to curl up and hide. He’d seen you all before. But each time, especially on days like this when he wanted to relearn you after an extended time apart, it was like he was seeing you anew. His eyes raked down your form. And up again. Like he knew he missed seeing that one crease of your skin, a certain freckle, or the flush rising up between your breasts. Each small moment was his favorite. And he wasn’t going to miss a single one.

All the while, you trembled under his gaze. And you took the time to appreciate him too. The smooth curves of his muscles; they were strong enough to defend a city, and soft enough to hold you tight. But you also noted the ragged edges of his scars. How some of them had smoothed into soft curves with time, but you knew each story. Each case and the number of lives saved. This man, capable of saving a city, was hovered over you like you were the center of his universe. The way his lower tummy flexed caught your attention like a whirlpool. Then his hands and mouth were moving for your pleasure, and you were lost.

Jason’s palm laid over your sex, cupping how warm and wet you’d become while waiting for his desperate entry. His mouth moved from one of your breasts to the other, nipping and kissing the swells of them and laving his tongue over your nipples. When his fingers finally curled into your heat, you moaned loudly. Which made him smile against your skin.

“Gonna make you louder than that,” he promised.

He didn’t waste time when bringing you to the brink with his fingers. He curled them, scissored them, until you were keening his name. He had to lay his other hand against your lower stomach to hold you in place. On another night, he would have taken great pleasure laying his forearm across that same spot, pinning you down and eating you out for hours. But today, he needed to feel you around him as soon as possible. When he was sure he wouldn’t hurt you, he slotted himself between your thighs.

“Y/N-”

“Jay, need you, please.” You reached up and swirled your thumb around his tip. His strangled cry and tight grip on your wrist stopped you. “Please-”

Two breaths later he worked inch by glorious inch into your sex. The needy clench of you made his mouth drop open. He focused hard on working all the way into you before he could cum. It stole his breath how hard you could clench around him. How sexed-out you looked already. Jason finally rolled his hips. You rolled to meet him, gripping at his arms on either side of your head.

Tiny whines and whimpers traitorously made it past your lips. Each thrust of his made your body shudder. The back of your mind frantically tried to come up with an excuse for Bruce to not separate you two this long ever again. But Jason was moving too fast, too perfectly, to blindingly for the plans to stick longer than a second. You could come up with something later. You gave into the waves of delight he was thrusting into you. Lips trembling, you allowed your sounds to grow louder, knowing that they would spur him on. Jason’s own noises grew louder to match you. Desperate chasing of the sparks of pleasure soon had you both crying out. Jason smothered you as his arms gave out, overcome with the way your sex was milking his release.

A few minutes later, you shuddered as he pulled out. The water-proof blanket was a blessing. Especially when he was in the habit of making a mess of you. You forced your eyes open. And froze.

Jason had a keen eye on your sex. Oblivious to his own movements, he reached up and pressed lightly on your abdomen. He kneaded the pouch there, ignoring or ignorant of your whimpers of sensitivity.

“Baby- what are you doing?”

He kept pressing, watching his cum leak out of you. “I – You’ve got so much of me in you.” Enraptured, he held you in place so he could continue to watch the show. “Maybe we should take longer missions. So I can do this to you more often. I’m impressed you can hold that much.”

“Alright.” You panted. “Then leave it in.”

“No. Gotta make room for round two.”

Incredulous, your eyes went wide. Especially when he started to fist his cock again. You clenched, squeezing out more of his release at the sight of his length swelling slowly in his hand. “Jay, sweetie, I can’t. Too-“ You broke off with a gasp as he flicked over your clit. “Too sensitive.”

“Sure you can. For me?”

How could you ever tell those big, beautiful eyes no?

Thankfully he took several minutes to kiss you all over again while he palmed himself to hardness again. By then, you wanted him in you again. But he took his time. Scooping more cum out of you, licking his lips hungrily to see you gape for him, he couldn’t focus on one thing about you for more than a few seconds. He watched your eyes drift closed while he kissed down your stomach. Distracted, you didn’t see his plan.

Jason flipped you on to your stomach. From there, he could massage up your back, pushing lightly on your spine to squeeze out just a pit more. His stance between your thighs kept you from closing them. He kneaded your ass before leaning over you.

“Think you can take me again, now?” Sliding his hand into your hair, he used your locks to tilt your face to one side. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm.” You arched your ass up towards his length. “Yes, please.”

He breathed a laugh. “If I didn’t know you were such a needy thing ninety percent of the time, I’d compliment your politeness.”

“C’mon, Jay.” You reached back for him, only to have your hand pinned to the blanket next to your face. Again you arched your back so your ass could rub along his length. As he gasped, you smiled. “You said you wanted round two. And you’re ready for it.”

“There it is. My needy girl. Mine.”

He sheathed you in a breath. It took him several stuttered gasps to refill his lungs after feeling you around him again so soon. Unprompted, the memories of how he won you filled his mind. He kissed between your shoulder blades while you both adjusted, thinking. He remembered how your rogue lives had overlapped, helping and hindering. Bruce convinced him to invite you to join the crew after you were injured. Jason had watched as Alfred patched you up. You didn’t like how big the guest room was. This room. He’d shared it with you for the first several weeks. Simply holding you at night, soothing you from the nightmares that chased you. He stayed because of you. Now, here you were. In his arms. No longer tormented except by whatever pleasure he could dish out. And he intended to dish out plenty.

Slowly he began to drag out of you, only to thrust quickly. As if he was drawn into you like the strongest magnet. Like he wasn’t complete without you. Over and over again he filled you, listening for your cries and pleas. How your name rasped around his name. You were his, yes. But he was also yours, wholly and infinitely. The way your velvety walls held him, and the glow of your skin, made him want to stay connected like this forever. But you clawed at the fabric under your fingernails, He imagined feeling that desperation against his own skin and flinched as his vision whited out. With a shout, he stilled over you, shuddering and filling you once again. Chasing that last feeling of belonging to each other, he pumped a few more times until you were inching up the bed to get away from his cock.

Finally, Jason fell to one side. You remained impaled on him until you caught enough of your breath to free yourself. His happily exhausted face was there to meet you when you turned in his arms. He brushed some of your hair off your sweaty face. You nuzzled your noses together.

“Jay… I have a confession.”

He grinned, already connecting the dots through his post-sex maze. “So, I’ve been had.” He kissed your hairline, hugging you closer.

“That was the plan, but then you kinda took over. Not complaining.” You snuggled further into his arms. Then you smothered a grin. “Have you and Dick really dated the same girl?”

“What’s he been-” He sucked his teeth. “Eavesdropping too. But, yeah. Just as a front. For some gala or another, or to distract from Bruce having to miss an event because of a case. None of them ever made it far. Hard to be when all they wanted was a tour of the Manor.” Burrowing his nose behind your ear, he added, “nobody has been as wonderful as you. As beautiful.” He kissed with each praise. “As clever. As strong. Or as perfect of a fit in my hands.”

With a groan, you caught his roaming hands before they could start round three. A flurry of kisses later, he convinced you otherwise.

***

Masterlist

Other Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader Fics:

Two Hoods, One Revenge (S)

Your Favorite Game (S)

Tame the Wild (S)

Race to the Top (S)

ABC’s of Jason Todd: An alternate NSFW alphabet mixed with fluff, angst, and of course, smut. [Complete]

#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fluff #reader insert #dc comics #batfam #redhood x reader #redhood smut

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weirdmageddon · 15 hours

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the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

#homestuck #homestuck meta #homestuck fandom #mine

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reids-slut · 3 days

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An Invisible Locket

Chapter 1: Loved You in Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 3.6 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Penelope Garcia finally shows herself at 10:08 a.m. As usual, she rolls into your shared office with the force of a tornado.

“All righty, Miss Y/N, we need to discuss the plans for your birthday party soon. I need a guest list because I need to figure out how much food I’m ordering and where we’re going to have it, since your apartment is pretty small and mine is only marginally bigger. I’ve already asked him, and Rossi did say we could have it at his house, so that’ll probably be the best option.”

Before she takes her seat, she takes notice of your furrowed brows and crossed arms. Her face falls. “Wait, what did I say wrong?”

“First of all, Pen, my birthday isn’t for another two months, and I told you that I’m fine with it just being the two of us. That’s why they make small cakes. For lonely people who only have one friend,” you joked. “Secondly, where have you been!? I’ve been here since nine, and it’s now…” You check your non-existent watch for dramatic effect, “past ten. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Penelope Garcia, unreachable? I assumed that you were, quite literally, dead.”

“Two months is very little time in the party-planning world, I shall have you know! Plus, I may have already invited the team, so that’s…,” she starts counting on her fingers, but quickly gives up, “somewhere between 10 and 20 people, I think?”

You just sigh, stifling a laugh. Penelope Garcia loves a good, moderately-sized, well-planned party. Bonus points if it’s got a theme.

“Wait, did I not tell you about that meeting I had with Hotch this morning?” she asks, either genuinely puzzled or doing a great job at pretending to be.

Your curiosity is piqued. “No, but spill! Meeting with Hotch? What about, and why wasn’t I invited?”

Penelope takes her seat, and you slide your swivel chair over to hers. Elbows on your knees and chin resting on your fists, you await her update like an impatient child.

“It’s nothing that exciting, unfortunately, my sexy, salacious sidekick.”

Leaning in close to her ear, you whisper, “Don’t make me call HR again, Miss Garcia.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek and roll yourself back to your desk, only a few feet away, to resume working.

She drops her bomb as if it’s nothing, talking fast, as if that were to lessen its impact. “Section Chief Erin Strauss wanted an update on how the team was doing, having two technical analysts. That’s all it was.”

***

The FBI hired you to work as a technical analyst with the Behavioral Analysis Unit just shy of your 25th birthday. You met your best friend, Penelope Garcia, while she was presenting on behalf of the FBI at your then-school and her alma mater, Caltech.

Beginning the final year of your undergrad computer science degree, you had little idea of what direction you wanted to take after graduation.

Penelope’s presentation showcased various tech-related careers within the FBI, of which technical analysts are one. She confidently marched up to the microphone wearing a bright pink pencil skirt, pink tweed jacket, and a cat-ear headband. You immediately knew that you had to talk to her afterwards.

Even in high school, you were always the one who had to match your outfits and accessories to a specific theme or color. Themed outfits brought you so much joy and confidence, but people have chastised you for the way you choose to express yourself in the past.

In your first term of university, one professor used your outfit as an example of how not to dress in a “professional setting”. She was a woman, too. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as badly coming from a male professor, but being shamed by a female professor did a number on your self-esteem.

Thankfully, your mom has always been your number one fan and biggest cheerleader. When you cried to her about your experience in class, she gave you the pep-talk of a lifetime about how the world needs more people who are authentically themselves to “bring color to the lives of the boring”. She’s an oil painter, so the advice was very on-par for her, but it still meant a lot.

Seeing another colorful, authentic woman, let alone one with a job at the FBI—which you had always viewed as a stuck-up, cold, and refined place to work—was immensely inspiring.

Besides talking about technical analysts, Penelope highlighted the careers of digital forensic examiners, IT specialists, and computer scientists within the FBI. Everything about her seemed down to earth, and you felt so excited by her presentation. You were actually taking notes.

After her presentation, you headed over to see if you could speak with her. Before you could even open your mouth, she loudly gasped upon seeing your outfit.

You were wearing a sundress that day, the white fabric arrayed with printed lemons. Your necklace and earrings had little lemon charms to match, and the purse you were carrying (which was only large enough to hold a few items) was in the shape of a lemon wedge. A yellow elastic pulled your hair up into a ponytail, topped off by a yellow headband.

Your big gray backpack stood out like a sore thumb, but unfortunately, your laptop and textbooks didn’t quite fit in the lemon purse.

After talking up a storm, Penelope gave you her card. You two became fast friends, first via email and later by phone. She became the older sister you never had. A photo album in your closet holds the photos from your numerous trips to visit each other.

Right after you finished your master’s, Penelope convinced her boss to hire you to work alongside her in the BAU.

***

“So, after being here more than two years, Strauss wants to know if she can cut me from the team? That’s your idea of ‘no biggie’?” you ask.

“I wasn’t going to tell you because I knew it would just cause you all sorts of unnecessary stress and I wanted to protect your sweet, precious little heart. But both Hotch and I assured Strauss that you’re a much-needed member of the team and, thankfully, for once, she left the boxing gloves at home and didn’t put up a fight.”

“Well, thank you for trying to protect me from stress, but I mean, I did think you were dead for a whole hour today.” You bounce your two upward-facing palms up and down, as if weighing out the pros and cons of her decision.

“You’re right. Next time I have to keep a secret from you, I need a better lie,” she joked.

“How about any lie, actually? You just told me nothing and my brain assumed the worst.”

Penelope is so special to you, and you are both so content getting to work together. You guys have decorated your office to the maximum extent, just shy of incurring a fire code violation. Your desk is as equally covered with fun knickknacks and fidget toys as hers.

“Oh, shoot! You finished the prep on the Cedar Key case, right?” Penelope asks. “I forgot to check that you got JJ’s email because I was so caught up with that stupid meeting!”

“Strauss does what Strauss does best: taking away resources and making it harder for all of us to do our jobs,” you joke with an eye roll. “But yeah, I saw her email early this morning, and I got started on it as soon as I got in. I finished about 20 minutes before you finally showed up, so I just went in and did some updates on the back-end while I waited.”

“Oh, good! If you hadn’t finished it, I would’ve had to send you to the time-out bean bag chair for the rest of the day.” She puts on a childish, grumpy voice, “And we all know how grumpy you get when you get sent to the time-out bean bag chair for being a bad girl.”

You can’t come even close to containing the full belly laugh that escapes you as you lean back in your chair.

The time-out bean bag chair thing is an inside joke between you two. You and Penelope snuck a fluffy pink bean bag chair into your office last year. A much-needed piece of office furniture in your eyes, but your superiors would probably disagree. Thankfully, the custodians have left it alone and just cleaned around it. Nobody’s ratted you out yet.

One day, you both were working on problem-solving a kink in the system after an update. It’s Penelope’s operating system, but you had already become fairly familiar with it by that point.

Derek must have had nothing more important to do that day, because he wouldn’t stop bugging you guys, asking questions about what you were doing and touching things on Penelope’s desk. He loves to bug her, and you love to tease her about it. He’s like a schoolboy with a crush.

Penelope blew up at him and told him that if he wanted to stay, he was getting a time-out on the bean bag chair.

He stayed. The name stuck.

Penelope’s phone alerts on her desk, breaking the complete silence in the room. “JJ just texted and said it’s time to brief the team.” She stands and raises an elbow for you to interlink your arm with hers—basically the only way you two walk around the office (or skip when no one’s looking).

“Let’s go, Mini-Me,” she says.

***

As soon as he strolls into the round table room, you spot him. Your eyes dart immediately to his, catching his gaze. Your boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. You force your eyes away from him, scanning the rest of the room.

You’ve been with the BAU for 2 years and secretly dating Spencer for a little over half of that. As far as you’re aware, nobody’s figured it out yet. At work, you try your hardest to remain as professional and platonic as possible. Sometimes though, your mind drifts to daydreams of Spencer meeting you in your office alone, your hands planted firmly on your desk as he takes you from behind.

He’s sitting at the far side of the large table, between Dave Rossi and Emily Prentiss. He’s wearing the loose navy-blue cardigan he knows you love over a pale blue dress shirt. Oh, to be able to grab him by the tie and peel those clothes off him right now…

This is the first time you’ve been able to see Spencer in over a week. He had a week’s worth of vacation time to use up, so you encouraged him to go visit his mom, Diana, in Vegas. Spencer was over at your place the last time he got a call from the assisted living facility Diana’s at. They told him that she’s been more agitated lately and asking for her son. The pain on Spencer’s face when they asked him if he’d be able to come visit soon broke your heart.

It would have been great if you could have gone with him to Vegas (or otherwise not spent his vacation apart), but Spencer really needed to see her, regardless.

A few of your coworkers are quietly chatting, but they quiet as soon as JJ begins. “All right everyone, let’s get started.” Everyone begins to thumb through the small folder of papers on the table in front of them detailing the case. “We’re headed to Cedar Key, Florida. They’ve got two victims so far, with two very different MOs.”

You press a button on the small remote in your hand which controls the presentation. Images of the two victims pre- and postmortem pop up on the screen.

Penelope averts her gaze as she picks up from JJ. “As you can see, this was no fun Florida vacation for these two. On the left is James MacDermott from Cleburne, Texas. 38 years old. Worked in IT. Father to two adorable, chubby-cheeked twin babies. His wife reported him missing when she woke up one day and he had left with no note or explanation.” Her face tightens. “James was found dismembered in a suitcase under a pier by a group of teenagers who were going for a swim. Finding a dismembered corpse is definitely not my idea of a fun day at the beach.”

“Our second victim,” you start, “is Elaine Colton, 74, of Abilene, Kansas. She’s a retired second grade schoolteacher. Her husband Joe died two years ago, and she’s been living on her own since. Her daughter—a nurse—stops by once a week to visit and help with errands. Elaine lost her license after suffering a stroke a few years ago, so she can’t drive. Her daughter called 911 when she went for her weekly visit and found her mom was gone. She said her mother ‘packed as if she were going on a trip.’”

You consciously keep your gaze moving around the room as you speak, but while you’re talking, Spencer isn’t taking his eyes off you. Knowing he’s about to leave on a case again makes it that much harder when all you want to do is hug and kiss him right now. Sometimes, you don’t even get the luxury of saying goodbye, but that’s the nature of the job and of keeping a secret like this.

“Her body was found dumped in a glade nearby three days after our first victim, but unlike James, Elaine’s limbs were fully intact.”

Derek is the first to speak up. “So, how do we know these deaths are connected?”

Penelope gives you a quick nod to bring up the next pictures. The images are of the back of the victims’ bodies. The back of their skulls has been cut open—seemingly with some sort of surgical saw—into a perfect square.

“As you can see,” Penelope continues, shielding her peripheral vision from the monitor with her hand, “our friends here had some not-so-little holes left in the back of their heads.”

“Definitely some surgical training,” Rossi notes. “Our unsub purposefully left their brains exposed for a reason.”

“Is that a matching tattoo on their backs?” Emily asks.

“Yes,” JJ replies. You skip to the next set of images with a close-up of each victim’s tattoo, thankful that the grotesque pictures are gone. You’re not shaken as easily by the gore as Penelope, but that was still far too much brain for how early in the day it is—or ever, honestly. The tattoos are of a rod with a snake winding up around it.

“Both victims have this tattooed on the middle of their upper backs. ME thinks that both the tattoo and the skull dissection were done postmortem.”

As soon as Spencer saw those tattoos, he lifted slightly in his seat. He’s been waiting for his opportunity to interject.

“The tattoos are of the Rod of Asclepius, which has been a symbol of medicine since 800 BCE. According to Greek mythology, Asclepius was the god of medicine and his father, Apollo, the god of healing.”

Derek cuts in, “Wait, I thought the symbol of medicine was the staff with the two snakes and the wings, or whatever?”

“That’s actually the caduceus, which was the staff carried by Hermes. In the mid-to-late 1800s, the US Military began mistakenly using the caduceus, first with Army hospital stewards and then, in 1902, the Army Medical Department adopted it. It was even used by the American Medical Association for a period until they correctly adopted the Rod of Asclepius in 1912. Before then, the caduceus had no connection to medicine whatsoever.”

The joy on Spencer’s face whenever he gets to share his fun facts warms you up inside. You have to suppress the pure admiration on your face. He’s looking around at his colleagues, but they aren’t at all entertained by his information. They’re trying to dissect it.

“Okay, so this is someone who’s knowledgeable about medicine then, right?” Dave asks.

“Yeah, I think surgical training or something along those lines still makes the most sense,” Emily says.

When Spencer glances your way, you give him a quick shy smile. To anyone else, it might come across as pity, but it’s your unspoken way of reminding him that you love his big, beautiful brain and that you’ll always listen to him. You’ll always hear him. He quickly flashes you a smile in return; his silent thank you.

Everyone turns their attention to you as you pick up from JJ, getting the briefing back on track.

“The ME also said that the COD on each victim was wildly different. Elaine Colton died of an overdose of fentanyl that was most likely cut with etizolam, which was also found on the tox. screen.”

“Street fentanyl being compounded with etizolam—a black-market benzodiazepine—is often called ‘benzo dope’,” Spencer remarks. “It’s a combination of drugs that’s much more likely to cause an overdose because naloxone isn’t effective against benzodiazepines and most drug user aren’t aware that their supply isn’t pure.”

“I’m assuming that our house-bound, retired schoolteacher wasn’t using street drugs in her free time.” Rossi adds, uncontested.

The team reflects on that information while JJ continues, “James MacDermott died, most likely of blood loss. His heart was crudely cut out of his chest with what the ME believes was a steak knife.”

“So, there are at least two unsubs,” Emily says. You can only assume because of the surgical precision of one act and the bluntness of the other.

Derek looks up from the case file. “This isn’t a very populated area, right? How has the local PD not pinned anyone yet?”

You look at Spencer before he even starts. “Cedar Key is an island off the coast, connected to the mainland by a bridge. It only has a population of around 700 people. Levy county has 39,875 people, though.”

Hotch stands to address the team. “Okay, Reid, you start working on a geographical profile. Morgan and Prentiss, you guys head straight to the ME. JJ and I will get set up at the local PD.” His stoicism falls ever so slightly, an air of frustration tinging his voice. “Also, the jet’s a bit behind today because there was a delay in the routine maintenance check, but I want everyone back here in an hour. Wheels up in… 90, I guess.”

The team seems a bit stunned for a moment. Hotch tells everyone to use this as an early lunch break and to relax a bit before they have to leave. His placidity over such a lengthy delay surprises you, but you aren’t going to complain about an extra hour before Spencer has to leave for god knows how long.

Spencer grabs his phone out of his pocket as everyone shuffles out of the room, so you wait a moment before grabbing yours out of the pocket of your favorite black linen, wide-legged trousers. Thank god you didn’t wear a skirt and tights today. That would’ve been a bitch to deal with later.

During work hours, his messages don’t leave any notifications. No vibrations. Nothing. He has his set up the same. If your phone were to vibrate only moments after he picks his up (or vice versa), your coworkers would have figured your secret out a long time ago. That would’ve been stupidly obvious.

Staying a few paces behind everyone exiting the room, you open up your text conversation with your boyfriend. Even on your personal phone, you keep his full name and only his full name in your contacts.

Spencer Reid: “Parking garage in 5. I’m already on my way down, so head out ASAP.”

Glancing across the bullpen, you don’t see Penelope. She must have darted out of the room directly after the brief while you were focused on finding the first moment you could whip your phone out of your pocket.

You shoot Penelope a quick text that you’re running home for lunch to eat your leftover Chinese takeout. This lie does kind of track for you, actually. You’re not the best chef ever and you’re even worse at packing lunches for work. You’ve used past lunch breaks to run out to grab fast food or a fresh, much-better-tasting sandwich from the café across the street.

Walking past Hotch’s office on your way out, you can see him yelling into his phone. You’d guess that the maintenance team is getting an earful of Hotch’s anger and frustration right now. He definitely values punctuality and professionalism.

Looking around, you check to make sure nobody that you know is nearby as you approach Spencer’s car in the parking garage.

He pulls out of the spot as soon as you’ve closed the car door.

“My place, I presume, handsome?”

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” He places a hand on your knee as he drives, snaking his fingers up your inner thigh. “I could barely focus on what you were saying when I just wanted to get my hands all over you. I’ve got some case file reading to do on the way to Florida.”

Your apartment is only a three-minute drive, which is why you bike to work most days, but that also means it’s the best option right now. Getting this opportunity right now feels like a gift from whatever gods may be. whatever gods may be.

I hope you like this one! I've been working on these seven chapters for over two months and I've put well over 100 hours into this fic. Comments and/or constructive feedback are always appreciated!

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reod x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!bau!reader #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler #reids-slut-writes

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lionheartedmusings · 1 day

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hi everyone! i'm once again showing up on your dash with a life update and a request for help, but this time a much brighter update <3 i know i haven't been very active around here but i've been very busy (in a good way) and do want to return to my previously scheduled shitposting soon.

halfway through may i managed to escape a very toxic and damaging living situation and got my first payment from twitch! the support that i've received has been groundbreaking and i couldn't be more humbled and thankful for everyone who's dropped by a stream. something something dreams coming true in ways we didn't expect.

the unfortunate part is that moving took me scrounging up 200€ and a lot of penny pinching, and thankfully (and thanks to the 76 dollar payout from twitch) i was able to survive and keep working as hard as my mental health allowed me to.

i'm currently in the middle of a subathon and i'm? confused and shocked by how much support i've gotten for it, to the point that when the next payment i receive will be my first proper paycheck in over half a year. for the first time in ages, i'll be able to pay my bills and eat and not be panicked about tomorrow, upgrade some things for stream *and* still have some savings.

the problem becomes the fact that twitch only pays out on the 15th of every month and until that happens, i'm at an absolute zero in my accounts and food has run out as well as shampoo and bodywash and all those necessary things. i was incredibly lucky that a friend was able to help me get feminine hygiene products this month. i'll provide screenshots below.

if anyone is able to help me get past this last hurdle i would be eternally grateful, or if you could reblog that would already be so appreciated <3 but if you read this just as an update on my life, know that i am so at a loss for words from all the kindness and support i've been shown, and that if my life is changing it's because of everyone's support and good vibes. thank you <3

my p*ypal <3

#financial assistance #mutual aid #financial aid #actually autistic #mutual aid request

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royaltozaki · 19 hours

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ordinarily

synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend

warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate

w/c: 7.8k

a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“ms. l/n?”

“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.

“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”

she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”

she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.

she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”

“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.

“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”

she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”

“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.

"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"

you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.

"how long has this been going on?"

"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"

"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"

"no."

"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"

"not really, no."

"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"

"u-um... yes."

"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"

ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.

"u-um yes i think so."

"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.

"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"

"for lack of better words yes."

"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."

"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.

"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"

"i- um- i-"

"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."

you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"

sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."

you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."

sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"

"i- um- yes... to all of those."

"have you ever orgasmed before?"

"i- yes."

she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"

you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.

sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."

ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"

"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."

ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."

sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"

ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"

"it's a yes or no question."

"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"

"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.

"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"

"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."

ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.

sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.

"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"

"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."

"but you just said-"

"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."

you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."

she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"

you blush, shaking your head.

"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"

"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."

"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.

"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."

"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"

you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."

"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."

"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.

"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.

"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."

sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"

"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"

"and you're able to make yourself come?"

"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."

"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"

you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.

"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."

"how would i unlearn that?"

"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."

you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-

she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.

she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."

"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.

sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.

you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.

you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.

"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"

you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.

one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.

she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"

you nod, "a little."

she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."

it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.

when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.

“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.

you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”

sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.

but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.

“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”

sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”

you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“

“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.

the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.

"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"

you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.

she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.

“alright?”

“mhm just- just do it.”

“do what sweetie?”

“just- you know-“

“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.

“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“

she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.

you’re breathless at the feeling.

“painful at all?”

“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”

you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”

you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.

“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”

you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.

you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.

“good?”

“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“

she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.

“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.

“y-yeah.”

now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.

you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.

"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"

so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.

but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.

you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.

"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.

you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.

once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.

you clear your threat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.

"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."

"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.

"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"

the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.

"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.

if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.

"y/n?"

your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.

you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.

"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.

"just happy to see you again."

her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.

"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"

"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."

"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"

"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."

sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"

"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"

"hmm? what is it?"

"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."

sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"

"i- um- sorry what?"

"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."

"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.

sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.

"something wrong sana?"

"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"

"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."

"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.

your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."

sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."

"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.

"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"

"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.

"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"

you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.

sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.

"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.

"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.

sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.

"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.

"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.

"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.

sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.

"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"

she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.

you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.

but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.

you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.

her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.

"oh shit-"

sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.

when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.

"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.

you whine, "n-no- you can move."

she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.

"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.

you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.

you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.

"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"

"hmm? good?"

"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"

"do you mind if i..."

you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"

you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.

sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"

"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"

so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.

sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.

eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.

sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."

you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.

she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.

"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.

you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.

"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."

you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.

"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"

you shake your head, coming to a stand.

"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."

you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.

you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this continues between the two of you for a few months.

you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.

your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.

you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.

"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.

"just think you're nice to look at."

she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."

you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."

she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."

you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."

sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.

"what's up?"

"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"

"i told you i haven't."

she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"

you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."

"then you should try having sex again."

you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"

sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."

"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"

sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."

"good. i was actually thinking..."

"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.

"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."

"mhm."

"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.

"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.

sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."

your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her

"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."

you pout a little but its quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.

#sana #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana smut #sana imagines #twice imagines #twice sana x reader #twice sana smut #royaltozaki

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vettelsvee · 23 hours

Text

THIS IS ALL MY FAULT | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

sebastian vettel x platonic!photographer!reader

based on this request: Okay! So after watching the run Sebastian organized at Imola, I has the idea of reader being someone that works for him (not sure what for though) maybe getting really sick for running in the rain that day, which ends up with Sebastian feeling guilty over it. It’s a silly idea, really, but I think it has a lot of potential to vibes similar to what Sebastian seems to have with the drivers, kind of playing dad to the grid 🥺.

summary: you work as a photographer during the forever senna tribute seb prepared, but you end up being sick

word count: 1618

warnings: none of them really! seb feeling guilty because he thinks reader got sick because of him.

a/n: I'm finally back! sorry for not posting at all during all this past month, university has had me really stressed but I'm finally free from it until september! idk if this is actually something well written because i haven't written anything for a month! also, hope you anon like this even it's definitely crap 😭

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback as well as comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! <3

The rain kept falling on the circuit, but that wasn't such an excuse for Sebastian and his team to cancel what they had been working on for months.

The run that the retired driver had decided to organize on Thursday not only with Formula 1 drivers, but also with those from Formula 2 and 3, and even other members of the sport, in honor of Ayrton Senna and Roland Ratzenberger, was more than perfect. It was an absolute success. And Sunday, when Vettel would drive the car that once belonged to the Brazilian pilot who died 30 years ago on that same circuit, hadn't even arrived yet.

You had been busy taking photos of everything, as you were Sebastian's official photographer. Now, you were gathering all the equipment you had used because the cold you were enduring was barely bearable. You had been out in the rain all day, following Seb wherever he went, which had made you feel increasingly worse. Now, your hands couldn't stop shaking, and you felt like you were about to faint at any moment.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of the team members asked.

"Yes, of course," you replied with a weak smile. "I'm just a bit cold. I'll be back to be the same me as soon as we get back to the hotel."

The man nodded, not wanting to press you further despite not being very convinced by your words after seeing your completely pale face.

You decided to continue with your work, ignoring anyone who approached you to exchange even the slightest word. You tried to ignore the growing headache, the fatigue, and the tightness in your chest, which seemed to be worsening. Although the rain had stopped and you were in one of the garages, the sky remained dark.

You were surprised to see Sebastian, still wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, just a few meters away from you. You shook your head, trying not to pay attention, and certainly not to worry. He was just your "boss," so to speak, and he was old enough to know what he needed to do to avoid getting sick. Well, he also had Britta, who was like a second mother to him.

A sharp pain pierced your temples. You staggered slightly, and if it hadn't been for your momentum making you lean your back against the wall behind you, you would have fallen to the ground.

"For God's sake, Y/N, you look terrible," he said as calmly as he could, though you could sense his nerves in his tone of voice. "You should go and have a rest. Like… now."

"Seb, we still have a lot to do. It's not just packing up the equipment, but also transferring the photos to the computer, editing them, then preparing the posts for you Instagram account..."

"Y/N, I love your work, but you've done more than enough for today," he interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, running his fingers carefully over it. "Now, I'll talk to Britta and we'll assign it to someone who knows what they're doing, okay?"

For a moment, you considered protesting, reproaching him that this was your job, and that's why he wanted you on his team since shortly before leaving Aston Martin, but the way he looked at you made you stop. He seemed worried, very worried. That's why you ended up not only reluctantly accepting but also letting him guide you to a nearby chair.

"Stay here. I'll bring you something warm."

As you watched Seb walk away, you sighed, managing to relax somehow. You saw him enter the Red Bull hospitality, and you assumed it was where he felt most comfortable. A few minutes later, you saw the blonde with two small steaming cardboard cups. As he reached your height, he offered you one of them.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the cup and taking a sip. Chocolate, something you loved, and Seb knew it perfectly.

"Do you promise you'll go back to the hotel as soon as you finish your hot chocolate?"

"I promise," you assured him. "But I can't promise that..."

"Y/N, just no work for today," he cut in, seeing that you weren't going to fulfill what you had promised. "I want you to spend today and tomorrow resting. Sunday will be a tough day for us. You can do it, at least for me, or am I wrong?"

You nodded your head as if you were seven years old again. You knew you were going to rest as much as you could in your hotel room, but that didn't mean you weren't going to do anything. As you had already planned, you were obviously going to continue with your work. You couldn't disappoint Sebastian, not on such an important weekend like this.

[...]

Sebastian accompanied you to the door of your room, and despite having exchanged a couple of messages with you on Friday, having let you rest all afternoon and part of Saturday morning, and having agreed that you would come to a meeting room in the hotel at 12pm on Saturday to finalize the details of tomorrow's tribute, he didn't see you there.

"Have you seen Y/N?" he asked Britta directly, a little distressed. "She told me she would come with no doubt."

"And she did come," the ex-pilot's PR commented, "but I sent her back to her room as soon as I saw her shivering. Her forehead was burning, and she said she had a slight fever. It wasn’t just a slight fever, Seb," Britta assured him.

The man nodded but became even more worried. Quickly bidding farewell to Roeske, he headed towards your room. He saw the door slightly ajar, possibly your mistake. He knocked softly before entering, and the sight that greeted his eyes made him feel bad instantly.

You were curled up in bed, trembling uncontrollably. You had a small towel on your forehead with cold water to see if you could control your body temperature since you couldn't take your medicine again until the corresponding hours had passed, which was already the next day.

Your face was completely flushed, and your breathing was labored.

As soon as you realized Seb's presence, your eyes welled up with tears. You tried to force a smile, but all that came out were tears from how bad you felt not only for Seb to see you like this but also for ruining something so important.

"Seb... You didn't have to come," you stammered, your voice barely audible.

"Of course, I did! Don't be ridiculous!" he responded quickly, sitting beside you. He placed a hand on your forehead and realized Britta was right. "My God, Y/N, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling so bad?"

"I... didn't want to worry you," you admitted between tears of frustration and exhaustion. "Tomorrow is an important day. You need to be resting to give your best tomorrow. There are people who have come just for you, Seb, you can't let them down."

You noticed him tense a bit at the mention. His lips curved, and his jaw tightened. He took a deep breath and took your hand almost without thinking.

"This is my fault..." he whispered softly. He seemed overwhelmed with guilt, and much of it. You cursed yourself for making him think that when it was all really your fault. "Nothing is more important than your health, Y/N. I'm so sorry, really..."

"Seb, it's okay, really. These things happen; it's completely normal. There's probably someone else like me..."

His silence was the response you partly expected, but it didn't hurt until you saw him shake his head.

"I just wanted to give my best so that the photos would turn out perfect and you would have content worthy of all the work you've put into this..." was all you could say.

"You're already the best, Y/N," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair away from your face. "In fact, you're so perfect that you should stop being so perfect to start worrying more about yourself. And since you don't worry about yourself... let me do it for you, okay?"

Although you didn't agree with him and didn't believe you deserved his praise, you were too weak to argue.

Sebastian stayed with you all day, including the night. He made sure you were as comfortable as possible, brought you water, and soaked the cold cloth in water to lower your fever as soon as possible, miraculously something that worked. He didn't leave your side, not even when you had a coughing fit or sneezed without covering your mouth.

Your fever began to lower in the late hours of that day. Your breath calmed down, and the color seemed to return to your cheeks. Seb sighed with relief, quickly hugging you while continuously placing small kisses on your face and playing with your hair, making you laugh incessantly.

After ordering room service for dinner, since your appetite seemed to have returned, you fell asleep, at least apparently. To avoid disturbing you, Seb went from lying down next to you to reclining on a sofa next to the bed. His eyes were heavy with tiredness, but that didn't stop him from staying alert in case you needed his help.

"Rest, Y/N," he whispered, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before caressing it. "I guess I'll have to take you out to dinner for the damages I caused."

You smiled at the last thing Seb had said, grateful that every time you got sick, you didn't fall into a deep sleep, and wishing that what Seb had said was true.

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ingravinoveritas · 19 hours

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kime11e replied to your post “Oh my god. MICHAEL. What. Why...”

Tbh I really miss when Michael Sheen became chaotic on Twitter. Alas no longer.

@kime11e I miss it, too. I really don't think enough people know or were around to see what Michael was like on Twitter over the past five years, and how unique his interactions with fans were. And "chaotic" is the perfect word for it (especially given that it fits with my #bless his bisexual welsh chaos tag), because Michael's tweets were chaotic, but in the best way possible.

These are just a few of the most infamous 2019 tweets of his:

The last one doesn't even have any text, but it was constantly things like this. Michael changing his username to "David Tennant" on April Fool's Day and posting a tweet that was just the eggplant emoji. Michael defending fanfic. Michael talking about liking being chained up. Michael doing ASMR videos, reciting poems, and almost obsessively retweeting and replying to GO/Ineffable Husbands fanart. Michael actively engaging with the fandom because he was a part of the fandom, and got as much out of GO as the rest of us did (if not more).

That's what I think makes me most sad of all. That Michael has been more or less pushed out of the fandom and people have somehow forgotten the way he used to speak for himself, on his terms. I know he's been nonstop busy with work for the last six or seven months as well, so maybe now he will come back to Twitter a little more, if he chooses to do so. I guess we'll have to see what happens...

#kime11e #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #michael sheen: breaking the GO fandom with a single sentence since 2019 #twitter #i wish i could explain what it was like to see all of that in real time #and Michael was so good with fans as well because he is a fan #and no one was relying on anyone else for Michael content because it all came from him #a very different time #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

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queensunshinee · 10 hours

Text

Time Of Our Lives || Part 9

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, praise.

Part 9

"What did I miss?" Liana asked as she sat down, seeing the boys exchange looks. Sometimes they spoke without words. She always envied that connection. She didn’t have anyone who could understand her with just a nod or a blink or, in this case, a stare.

"Hello, Earth to Art and Patrick?" she tried to join in, but something about the current situation didn’t feel right. "It's my turn to go inside. I need to drink some water. You two catch up, it's been a while since you’ve seen each other," Art said without looking at her, causing Liana to frown as he walked away. "That was weird, right?" she asked Patrick, who responded with a half-smile. "When is Art not weird?" he said. "How are you?" he asked, turning his gaze back to her and seeing her give the widest smile she could offer anyone. "Do you forgive me?" she asked, moving to sit next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. "What do I have to forgive you for, Amanda?" he chuckled, tracing shapes on her shoulder while taking another sip of champagne. "I was terrible. The exams made me crazy," she tried to justify her behavior over the past month. "Do you know if you're leaving yet?" he asked. "I’ll know when we get back from vacation. I’m terrified," she murmured. On one hand, Liana desperately wanted that year in Oxford. She wanted to see Europe. The architecture. The atmosphere. The culture. She wanted to see something other than the American suburb she had lived in her whole life, with the same people and the same opinions and the same tennis. On the other hand, she didn’t want to break her parents’ hearts. Her parents who had always talked about Stanford and how she’d join the family business after she finished school, and her parents who were the best people she knew but whose dreams for her flew past them as if they were never there. And now there was Art too. Art, who in the past two days had made her feel things she had never felt before. Art, who in the months at Stanford had become an inseparable part of her life. Art, who made her stomach ache at the thought of not seeing him for a year. Art, who still didn’t know she was considering leaving. "You’ll pass that test, we both know you will," Patrick said calmly. "And then you'll conquer Europe, building by building." He chuckled, but his voice faded with each word. "And we'll stay here, missing you," he said, and she straightened up, looking at him. "I’m not going to die, you know," Liana rolled her eyes, trying to lighten the conversation. "No, you're just going to meet people much better than us, and I'm enough of a bastard to be worried about that," he said honestly. "I don’t think there are many people in the world better than you, Patrick," she concluded. The next day Art left. He texted her that a spot opened up in some tennis group he could join, and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity. That he’d see her at Stanford. When Liana tried to call, he didn’t answer. So they kept missing each other throughout the vacation, she trying to call just as he was going into practice or the shower or falling asleep, and him sending messages that he was okay, just busy. On the last day of the vacation, she received a message that her exam results had come in. She had been accepted. Liana cried. Which wasn’t anything special because objectively Liana cried a lot, but this time she cried out of excitement. All the effort she put in had paid off, and now she could prepare for the student exchange. She could make her dream come true, start being a real person in the world. The conversation with her parents was horrible. There were shouts and accusations, and her mother said they wouldn’t pay for this, which Liana had suspected might happen. Her father seemed more conciliatory but didn’t say much. "Do you think Mom will be mad at me for long?" she asked him on the way to the airport. If there was one thing Liana hated, it was that it was always obvious she had been crying. Her pale face would turn red, and her eyes would swell, sometimes for days. This was one of those cases. It could be said with confidence that Liana looked like she had been run over by a bus yesterday.

"I know it doesn’t look like it, but we’re proud of you. Mom will come around, don’t worry," her father hugged her as they got out of the car. "I want this so much, Dad," she sighed.

"I know, honey," he said, kissing the top of her head. He hated seeing the emotional turmoil his daughter was in. His daughter, who above all feared disappointing people. "I’ll come back to Stanford after that," she mumbled, feeling the lump in her throat take over again. "I don’t want her to hate me," she looked at him with teary eyes.

"She doesn’t hate you. Li, look at me." Her father tried to wipe her tears. "Your mother is a stubborn woman, and you’ll see that a month after you’re there, she’ll come visit you." He smiled, and she nodded, not sure she believed what he said. "Besides, you have another semester at Stanford. Make the most of it, maybe you’ll love the place as much as we did." He shrugged, seeing her take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I love you, Dad," she hugged him again and started to walk away, hoping everything would calm down and her mother would eventually look at her like she did before she told her she was planning to leave. Art opened the door after five knocks, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "Did we have plans?" he asked. "Hey Arthur, I missed you too," she rolled her eyes and gave him a small kiss on the lips, seeing him close his eyes and deepen the kiss within seconds as he closed the door. "Hey," he smiled at her and moved her hair out of her face. "Have you been crying?" he asked after examining her. Art couldn’t stop himself from asking. It was like an instinct; seeing what he could do to make her feel better. But he was so mad at her that he didn’t really want to talk to her or know how she felt right now; after all, she didn’t care how he felt. He did want to fuck her. He wanted to feel like she was his. He was afraid he was a little addicted to the feeling of looking at her and feeling like she was entirely his. He was afraid that if she left, he wouldn’t feel that way again. He was afraid of losing.

"Did you know?" his mother asked on the phone. Her voice worried. "What?" he returned the question, panting after practice. "That Liana is planning to leave for Oxford? Did you know that?" she demanded the truth. And the truth was that he knew she was leaving. But he didn’t know where or when and he didn’t know it was official. His heart pounded faster. "Yes, I knew," he mumbled, not wanting to reveal how far he felt from Liana in reality. Not wanting to reveal how stupid he felt that of all people, Patrick knew before him. "How could you not say anything, Art, she's our Liana. How will she manage in England alone? She barely manages to find her way in the supermarket without getting lost," his mother sighed. And she was right. He knew she was right. And she wasn’t even their Liana; she was his Liana. And she was his Liana for exactly two days. What an idiot he is. "She’s a big girl. She can navigate the supermarket in England without getting lost. I have to go," he mumbled, angry at himself for still feeling the need to protect her. "Just tired from the flight," she smiled at him a tired smile and felt his lips leaving small kisses on her neck, causing her to close her eyes. "Can I help?" his voice was teasing as he took off her shirt without much resistance. Examining her for a second, as if trying to remember how she looked. "You're already helping," she smiled a genuine smile, and his lips were on her again, hungrier than she had felt him so far. "I want you so much, Li," he groaned into her mouth. His tongue intertwining with hers as if he had wandered for years in the desert and she was his source of water. "Do you want this?" he asked, as they moved to his bed and she nodded. In complete haze, at this point, she decided that Art Donaldson could do whatever he wanted with her. And it was a liberating decision. Knowing she was safe in his hands and he decided how good she could feel now. "Words, Liana," he demanded as he started taking off her jeans. She didn’t even notice she was already half-naked in front of him. "You're wearing too many clothes," she mumbled incoherently as his hand brushed over her panties. "You're already wet, Li?" his voice was amused as he took off his shirt. "Already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet," he whispered in her ear and heard her moan, which caused him to release a groan of his own. "Do you want this?" he asked again. This time his hand applied more pressure over her panties. "Art." Her voice was desperate. "Please," she whispered, and he bit his lip. Stopping himself from all the things he wanted to do with her. "Please, what?" he asked, his mouth close to hers, teasing, barely touching. He kissed her right cheek and then her left

"Touch me. Please," she almost cried out of frustration and desperation, exactly the way he wanted her. His. His again. And he felt desperate too, so her panties came off in a flash and he gave her exactly what she wanted. He heard her moan beneath him as his fingers moved inside her rhythmically. He felt how tight she was. He tried not to imagine his dick inside her, thinking he might not last. She was a virgin. He knew that. She had told him. He was going to be the first inside her. "So good for me, Li," he murmured and smiled, never taking his eyes off her. He didn't think anyone could look better than Liana did now, beneath him, eyes closed, desperate sounds escaping her, moaning his name. He was sure the student in the room next door was jerking off to the sound of her. He was sure no one in the world could resist Liana Levy when she looked like that beneath him. He was no different from anyone else. Almost captivated. Almost helpless. Just wanting to deliver. Just wanting her to always be like that for him. His lips roamed over her body until they reached her clit, while his hand sped up.

"You take me so well, Li," he said as the room filled with the sound of her fluids and moans.

"I'm going to-" she mumbled, her voice breaking, making him look up at her. He had to see her come. He had to remember this moment.

"Come for me, Li, come on. I want to see you," he demanded in the most authoritative voice he could muster, even though he felt himself melting under her influence.

"Art," she moaned again.

And he was right, her face in that moment was truly the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his 20 years of existence. Her half-open mouth, her eyes closed, slightly teary, her hand on her breast. It was a magnificent sight and he knew only he had seen her like this.

Her body shook and he gave one last kiss on her sensitive clit, then stood before her.

"Open your eyes, Li," he said, and she did exactly as he commanded. "Kiss me. Taste yourself." Another half-command with a smile and scheming eyes. Within seconds, her lips were on his, her tongue mingling with his intensely, just wanting more.

"I want to be inside you," he murmured, and she nodded. "Can I?" he asked. He had to ask. He knew she could say no and he would have to accept it, and if he were less greedy, he might even be satisfied with that anyway.

But he was so angry with her. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to know that just as he was hers, she was his. That she couldn't just ignore him like that. Dismiss him as if he didn't matter.

"Yes," she murmured into his mouth, feeling him smile against her.

"Yes, what?" he asked, teasing.

"Fuck me," she whispered, and it came out vulgar and blunt, uncharacteristic of the girl in front of him. She was even surprised by the words that left her mouth, her eyes widening for a moment before remembering it was Art and relaxing. She was safe with Art. He wouldn't use her words against her. It was okay for her to need him.

"I didn't hear you," he murmured, removing the rest of his clothes and moving to his desk to grab a condom. "I'm on this side of the room, Liana. You need to speak louder." He leaned against the wall as he put the condom on, taking a breath. He had to steady his breathing if he wanted to last inside her for more than three seconds.

"Please, Art. I want to feel you inside me," she said louder, more confidently, more desperately. He moved toward her. "Please fuck me," she looked him in the eyes and bit her lip, feeling almost small but also kind of powerful. He looked almost as desperate as she did as his hand traced her face and then her chest, stopping at her sensitive nipple, making her moan.

"That much, huh?" he asked, positioning the tip of his dick at her entrance and hearing her sigh in response. "Don't worry, I've got you. Are you going to be good for me, Li?" he asked, watching her nod in response. "Are you going to take me like you were made for me?" he asked again.

"Yes, please. Art." She was almost crying with frustration. Liana didn't know what to do to make him enter her already. To feel him. For him to fill her with himself. For him to be close to her. Part of her. She didn't know when she started feeling all these emotions for Art Donaldson, but now was not the time to figure it out. He began to slide into her.

"Oh, Art," she bit his shoulder, making him groan.

"Fuck, Liana. So tight. Fuck. Hang in there, baby, are you okay?" he asked, studying her.

"More," she mumbled. The pain didn't matter. She just wanted him. She wanted all of him. He did move more. A bit more each time. Another moan and another sigh each time until he was fully inside her. Their lips merged in their most sloppy kiss yet. They were one for a moment.

"You can move," she managed to say after a few seconds.

"Are you sure?" he asked, seeing her nod. "Fuck, Li. I won't last long like this," he murmured, his movements gentle. He was careful with her.

When he felt he was close and knew she wouldn't come from the first time someone inside her, he added a finger to play with her clit.

"Fuck, Art," she moaned his name for the umpteenth time.

"I know. You're doing such a good job, Li, taking care of me so well," he said, feeling her tighten around him, bringing him to the edge almost with her.

After a few seconds, he gently pulled out of her, seeing her panting and feeling just as spent. He took off the condom and walked it to the trash, finding his boxers on the way and putting them on. He saw the girl in front of him, completely naked. Completely his.

"When were you planning to tell me?" he asked, looking at her from a distance.

Liana was still in euphoria, her eyes half-closed, confused by the question. "What are you talking about?" she sounded amused, looking at him with a smile as he put on a shirt. For a moment, she felt fragile, not understanding how she was still completely naked while he was fully dressed in front of her.

"About leaving Stanford. About Oxford? I don't know. Maybe there are more things you'd like to tell me." His gaze was cold, making Liana freeze too. She felt her nakedness now. She understood why he was dressed and she wasn't. She was vulnerable right now.

"How long have you known?" she asked quietly, swallowing and searching for her clothes.

"My mom asked me about it yesterday," he said, never taking his eyes off her. "Do you know how stupid I felt when I lied and told her I knew?" he asked. His voice didn't rise, but the frustration was clear.

"Art, I found out two days ago," her eyes glistened and she breathed quickly, feeling everything slipping away from her. He was slipping away from her.

"You're lying," he stated with an eye roll, sitting down on the bed.

"Art," she knelt in front of him, studying his face. He showed no emotion, only coldness.

"It's okay, Liana. We both know what this is," he said, instinctively moving her hair out of her face.

"What is it?" she swallowed. She knew Art. She knew he was about to say something he'd regret, and yet she still pushed him to say it.

"It's me passing time until Tashi realizes she wants me," he said, seeing her expression change to one he'd never seen on her before. She moved his hand from her face quickly and scooted back on the floor as fast as he didn't know she was capable of, as if afraid of his touch.

"Wow." She swallowed, looking at him, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she tried to salvage the situation, and he chuckled.

"Come on, Liana." He rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, no longer looking at her.

"You just fucked me, Art." She felt sick. It was the first time she had slept with someone. He knew that. She felt so humiliated.

"I know. I was there, and if I remember correctly, you asked for it. More precisely, you begged-"

"Shut up. Just shut up." She cut him off and stood up. She couldn't hide her tears anymore.

"Why did you do it? We could have just continued meeting at family dinners. Seeing each other in the hallway and occasionally saying hello. Why did you do it?" It came as a sob. She had never felt so humiliated. It was like a truck had run over her.

"I was bored, and you were cute, and let's be honest, a little desperate," her hand found its way to his cheek with a force neither of them knew she possessed. She wanted to apologize automatically because she wasn't violent, but it didn't come out.

"I hate you so much. I will never forgive you. You are the worst person I know." She mumbled and moved toward the door.

"At least I beat Patrick to it," he found himself saying. He had to have the last word in every argument.

"No, Art. You lost to Patrick. Even in twenty years, you won't have half the character and heart that Patrick has already. You're a complete loser compared to him, and I hope you never forget that." She said without stuttering while he didn't take his eyes off her, swallowing hard, finally hearing the door slam.

The moment Liana reached her room, after passing a considerable number of people who looked at her with worried expressions, some even trying to ask if she was okay, she collapsed on the floor and let out the loudest cry that had probably ever escaped her. She felt dirty. Almost used. She had trusted the wrong person.

She picked up the phone to call the only person she thought could understand her.

"Liana, are you okay?" Patrick sounded concerned and confused, probably because of the late hour.

"He really hurt me and I didn't know who else to call," she managed to say through her tears, hearing Patrick sigh, as if silently saying he knew. He knew this would happen.

Writing this part kinda broke me. I know Art was being cruel, but well, he was acting out without thinking about the consequences. Got your requests and maybe on the weekend we'll give Liana/Patrick/Art some more layers. Keep sending me questions and such. I LOVE it. Hope you're still enjoying and again, if you wanna join the taglist, say the word ❤️

taglist: @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @serenadingtigers

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers #tashi duncan #art donaldson smut

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often-daydreaming · 16 hours

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Run

It's been months since they started traveling together, wandering, running from everything. It wasn't hard to figure out who Danny was. He didn't keep secrets, easily revealing the mark of the old god that sent him here and Bart wasn't about to turn down a friend especially when it's been forever since either one of them has seen anyone friendly so they were stuck together.

Travel buddies. Best friends. Apocalypse pals. He'd come up with a new one every day if he could but after spending so long trying to find a way back to the past their time had finally ran out.

Because Phantom was here. He's here and Danny's too injured to fight anymore after taking a blow for him during their last fight, always trying to save him even when Bart feels like he doesn't deserve it half the time only now it's Bart's turn to save Danny so he takes off running. It's what he's always done. He's good at it. He's the best and only speedster left alive leaving him with power to burn, the Speed Force surging through him as he takes off with a barely conscious Danny in his arms.

Phantom wants him, hasn't stopped hunting Danny since the day he's set his eyes on him and for as fast as he is Phantom is somehow keeping up. He's always a step behind, never fast enough for a solo speedster so Bart forces himself to go faster. He keeps running. He circles the planet in an instant hiding Danny in the ruins of Coast City seconds before he sucker punches Phantom from behind and repeats the process over and over again never noticing the clockwork like mark Danny gave him slowly clicking to life, the gears inside the necklace starting to move and tick with every close call and near miss and it isn't long before he's off again with Danny in his arms and death close behind them enraged after all his taunting.

Phantom is beyond furious but he's legs are about to collapse. He's never gone this fast before and Bart doesn't know how long he can keep it up so he has to pick a place for their last stand and races into the heart of Gotham towards the downed Watchtower. There's still enough of it left over that they can pull something off if they're lucky and they have to be lucky cause there's no going back anymore. There's so much blood, too much but Danny's still trying to force himself to his feet, the remnants of Gotham surging towards his call when Phantom finally catches up to them and... And... A.....

Bart blinks blindly at the floor. Everything hurt. His head feels like he's gone ten rounds with Doomsday and as he slowly gets up he notices dozens of other heroes in similar positions across the cafeteria of the Watchtower, all of them mumbling about the end of the world, in pain from migraines or rattled after reliving the memories of their deaths but Bart's only focus in that moment was his memories of Danny.

The up above is just something I thought up while bored and maybe, kind of sick so enjoy I guess. Add to it or tell me it's stupid, I probably won't notice until I'm feeling better.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bart allen #danny fenton

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soleilnewspaper · 2 days

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Home

The epilogue

Series

Summary: Remus revels his secret to you, and is surprised when you accept him so blindly. Sirius and you find a way to make him know how loved he truly is.

Pairing: Poly!wolfstar x female reader

Warnings: Talks of bruises and injury, feeling inadequate (Remus), crying, comfort and fluff, suggestive themes.

Word count: 2.7k

AN: I have rewritten this so many times over the past week because I had no idea how to finish it. That and I’m still ill at the moment. Hopefully I managed to do it justice. Thank you. If you enjoy, please, like, comment and reblog.

Remus had come accustomed to the idea of being a werewolf. It was forced upon him after Fenrir Greyback took that choice away from the boy before he could even reach his fifth birthday.

This hospital ward is a chrysalis in the worst of ways. Remus usually a kind and beautiful person had been melted down to liquid and reformed into the butterfly, conscious and feeling the process at work.

Remus lies in the bleach tinctured ward on the crisp but thinning sheets. A curtain hangs limply on the chrome railing, looking like it's been washed a thousand times. With eyes on the polystyrene tiles avoiding your gaze. If he were to look into them, his heart would break into pieces without a moments breath. His chest begins to crack his spirt as it tightens into a knot like a cramp and a quiet fear builds inside.

Though the room is unfamiliar to you, in that hospital bed is a soul that has been woven into yours since the first time you laid eyes on him at Kings Cross Station all those years ago.

The look in your eyes broke him. Still, you required confirmation from him before going any further.

“Remus, you’re scaring me.” Your fingers found his as you sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. Blankets shifted underneath at your weight.

“Have you heard of a little thing called lycanthropy?”

The head nod with wide eyes that Remus received from you was enough confirmation to continue his explanation.

“When I was four, another werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, he, well..bit me. He was angry with my father about what he said about werewolves. So he used me to punish my father in his own twisted way.”

Most wizards and witch’s did not take well to his lycanthropy creating a constant fear in Remus since he was a little boy. His ma and da felt it. Sirius, James, Peter and Lily felt it. Now you did too.

“Every month when on the full moon, I leave to avoid hurting anyone and the boys come with me-“

“In their anigmus forms.”

“You knew?” Remus chocked out from his tired body.

“Only that they were anigmi, nothing of your condition. Regulus, Pandora and I caught on quickly. They weren’t exactly subtle.” You wiped a tear before it could fall from your face, offering Remus a smile as you spoke.

“You never cease to amaze me, angel.” Remus hand cupped your check and gently he used his figure to wipe your tears. You couldn’t believe he was comforting you when he was the one in pain.

“I understand if you decide you cannot be with me, anymore. Just please don’t punish Sirius for my condition.”

The words left his mouth and left a sting down your throat. You bartered your eyelashes a few times in confusion.

“Why would I do that?” You asked frowning your brows together as if it was merely a simple question.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look of disbelief and confusion, more so Remus than Sirius. The werewolf had decided he didn’t wish to condemn you to this life but Sirius had told him his lycanthropy shouldn’t change a thing. He was more than happy to defend him if it did, but he didn’t needed to. Within moments you had accepted him as is.

“Will you do me one favour.” Your eyes met his honey brown ones, an unspoken message of love spoken between the two of you.

“Anything, dove.” Remus’s voice was gently but betrayed a hint of desperation that left you feeling uneasy.

“Let me come, next time.” Your voice held warmth and your eyes were practically begging and pleading for him to say yes.

The thin injured werewolf dropped his hand from your face immediately like a chain reaction. His gentle face was replaced with one of pure and utter horror. A sharp wine escaped him a mix of pain and horror.

“No, no, no, dovie, you can’t.”

“Animals are safe to werewolves, are they not?” You didn’t mean to smirk but you couldn’t help it.

“Yes, but you-“

“Are an anigmus.” You chuckled under your breath, your eyes griming with joy for the boys having not figured this out.

“Damn, you little minx.” Sirius said through a smirk which you could almost hear in his voice.

“More like an angel reincarnated.” Remus winced when he moved to kiss you so you quickly adjusted your position to make it more comfortable for him.

“Nothing could make me stop loving you, Remus John Lupin.”

“You’re mental, you know that.”

“Mm, but you that’s like em, don’t ye.” You smirked leaning against his side. Remus adjusted his position to wrap his arm around you so you could lay into him.

“That he does.” Sirius chimed in a sense of joy radiating through him for you accepting Remus. Though he would have given you a piece of his mind if you didn’t.

“Come here, love.” You held out your hand to Sirius urging him to join you and Remus’s cuddle. Which he was more than happy to oblige to.

The cold ant-sceptic smelling air could not resist to nip at your exposed skin. Remus pulled you closer to combat the cold. The werewolf sandwiched in between his two lovers. Both careful of his bruises and injuries which still made you cringe every time he winced. You couldn’t believe he had to do this every month, your heart broke for him.

You titled your head to rest it in the crock of Remus’s neck giving you ample opportunity to admire him. In those brown eyes was the warmth of an everlasting hearth, as if they were the wood that could burn with golden flame yet be forever perfectly entire. Just bright enough to shine in the shadows They are a million hues combined together, the word “brown” does not even begin to describe them. They are the forbidden forest and the changing of leaves with seasons, the soil in summer and after the rains. How could someone ever reduce something so spellbinding to one word, when the colours invite us to marvel in their simplicity. Rich brown coloured curls framed his sacred face, reminding you of the sandy beaches back home at your vacation home.

He was beautiful you had thought. Even with bruises littering his body in shades of blue and purple. He was the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of.

A shiver of golden light would race down your spine, every time, every time when you laid eyes on him.

The good werewolf was the protector, as were the angel witches, yet man could not tell the difference between them and the evil degenerates and chased them all from our lands. You could tell the difference and so could Sirius. If and when Remus doubted that fact, you would be there to remind him.

For the two of you could see the mighty goodness within him.

He was sure once he had recovered he would begin to feel the shame and horror of condemning you to such a life. To which you would most likely reassure and reassure him until he came to terms with the fact that you nor Sirius were going anywhere.

Your eyes met Sirius, and you ran your fingers through his. Taking the chance to admire your second boyfriend. The hair that fell from his head was woven from the black heavens, fine strands of spacetime and starlight. Flowing as sweetly as a poet's ink and quill. It contrasted beautifully against his pale skin. His grey eyes had a settling effect, reassuring in their reflectiveness. They were the shine of a star in the nighttime sky.

The pieces of your heart that had been struggling to fit into these world became so quiet when cuddling with your two favourite boys; it was as if they had found peace in you, as if they needed your glue to bridge their gaps and connect. That thought allowed you to pass into a peaceful sleep, while Sirius watched over your shared lover.

No relationship is without trial and error. You knew that better than anyone. Yet you had thought things would become easier between the three of you after learning Remus’s secret.

However, you could sense problems still existed in depths and crack of your relationship. The way Remus would coil occasionally at your touch, the way he isolated himself from you. He hated that not only had he condemned his parents, friends, and boyfriend to a life of misery but he had now done the same to you.

Lycanthropy took away his chance at happiness but it shouldn’t take away yours. Yet it hasn’t, he was the one who had ripped that away from you. You didn’t desveres to fall for a werewolf. Or rather he did not deserve the love and affection that you had offered him so blindly.

The sounds of the black lake evaded your senses as the three of you took in its haunting beauty. Behind you was the outline of the statue of Hogwarts Castle. Sirius had managed to convince you to come down here to entrust your help to reassure your werewolf boyfriend of your shared standpoint surrounding his condition.

The lake met the sun with such grace that day, as if the three of you were so enchanted by this eternal dance that you barely noticed the cold of late autumn England air.

From its core, the lake, reflected the blue sky as the most sincere of smiles. A smile which could only he bested by the beauty of your boys. Underneath you felt the green canvas of the floral flash-mob, or what you imagined a flash mob would look like you weren’t completely sure what it was to be certain.

Tall silken ribbons resembling the ones you wore in your hair sheltered earth and beetle same.

The grass on your soles is soft on soft, warm on warm, a gentle tickle as each giving wand forms a cushion of green.

The meadow surrounding the lake meandered in all ways that are soft to the breeze, the green flowing in bonny waves as any river would be proud to do. You were so enchanted by it you had almost forgotten your entire reason for coming down to this lake in the first place. Sirius had been the one to remind you when he had called Remus’s name.

“Moons, me and Y/N want to talk to you.” Sirius brushed the stray curls from Remus’s face as he spoke gently into his ear.

“What it is?” Remus hummed in response trying to act nonchalantly but you could tell he was anything but that.

“You do know we’re not going to leave you, right?” It was your turn to comfort him after he had done the same to on numerous occasions before.

“Course, I do.” The honey brown hues of his eyes seemed confused at your question.

“You sure, love?” Sirius leaned forward to tilt your shared boyfriend’s chin to face him completely.

Remus remained silent for a while scaring you both. When he did spoke it broke both of you with every syllable. “You shouldn’t have to live in misery because of me.”

“Moons, we chose this, you think I wanted to fall in love with my one of best friends and than the girl I practically hated.” Sirius chuckled in a low breath.

“And do you think I wanted to fall for my best friend’s brother who I pretended to hate, and his gorgeous boyfriend.” You leaned in to settle your face on Remus’s chest.

“What are you both trying to say?” The voice crack in his voice held a hint of desperation mixed with fear.

“You ain’t getting rid of us that easy, Rem.” Sirius smirked before beginning to attack Remus’s jawline with kisses.

“Not. A. Chance.” You chimed in, playing with the ends of his curls.

“But..why?” Remus asked as he sat up to lean his back against the tree.

“Bloody hell, because you’re you. Rem-I-well-we know that everything you have to offer outweighs your little flaw-your condition-whatever you want to call it. Dosen’t change anything, it didn’t when you told me-“

“And it hasn’t now that you have told me.” You finished for Sirius.

“Fuck, how I’d get so lucky?” Remus threw back his head in laughter mixed with love.

“Well, you’re gorgeous for one thing.” Sirius smirked leaning down to Remus’s chest.

“You can say that again.” You rested your head on top of his chest.

“Hey, hey, stop loving on me, dovie here is deprived.” Remus pulled Sirius off him gently. You blushed at his words, checks reddened in embarrassment.

“He does have a point, darling. Get over here.” Sirius smirked and pulled you to his side leaving Sirius in the middle of the three of you.

“Now that is hardly fair.” Remus chuckled.

“Patience is a virtue, Monny.” Sirius said through kisses to your lips.

“When I have ever been a patient man.”

There is a casual grace to the grass near the lake, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. That lake was a happy song, a poetry to eye and soul, bright in all the hues our Earth can dream of.

In his heart, Remus felt that he could survive anything if he felt loved, even these pains that come to explode within, these silent hand grenades. With kindness he could make it, as with compassion there is grace. For so long he had feared he would never be able to revive such a gift, but he was proved wrong by four Gryffindor boys and now again by you. Your smile was finer than any drug Madam Prompery could prescribe him. You were his medicine. The acceptance you offered was all he needed. As long as Sirius and you were there to remind him of that love, perphas maybe, he would keep his humanity. Be more than what he had been condemned to before even reaching school age.

The grass is taller than you had ever seen it, meadow-like but still green. All that's missing is the weeds that were so beautiful in the somerset fields. You looked forward to how it would look in the spring. The blue cornflowers, scarlet poppies, white asters and even the thistles. Next spring you hoped you would be able to scatter seeds in the newly softened soil with your boys by your side. This time next year the grass will be just as high, but a riot of colour in place of the uniform green – something to warm your soul as well as please the eye.

Nothing in your life could have prepared you for the whirlwind that came with falling in love for those two boys. No ballroom lesson, tutoring lesson with the finest teacher in the world, fencing, fine dining, conversation protocol, society rules, or anything your mother had told you. You had denied yourself of love for so long now, you had thought you were content without it.

Oh how you were wrong.

You couldn’t imagine why you had denied yourself this for so long. As Sirius made your giggles into fits of laughter when he picked you up while the both of you were knee deep in the lake. Remus watching the two of you from a distance, his black jeans scuffed by the wet grass. A camera around his neck, as he snuck pictures of the two of you when you weren’t watching.

The way your fingers found Remus’s beautiful brown curls as he made you giggle when gently placing kisses to your neck and down your jawline. Or when you had the privilege to watch the two boys cuddle up underneath a red plaid blanket because Sirius had shivered from the cold once he left the confines of the black lake.

The three of you sat there in late autumn, the grass moving in steady waves, those long heads of golden seed as calming as harbour waves. There was something about it, their movement synchronized yet independent, their hues so close yet unique. They danced in that way, came the song of crickets and the chirps of birds content to be warmed by gentle rays. You recall thinking of the days you had been so blessed just ti have made eye contact with one of your boys, and now, they were yours and you were theirs.

The feeling to the inner joy of anticipating the autumn colours. You love the reds and golds as much as anyone, yet the rich browns have a homely feel, something of the earth. You let your mind wonder when those changes will come, perhaps as early as next month or the one after. Then every day those changes bring an inner smile in rain and shine. Despite any doubt in your mind, this was the happiest you had ever felt.

No amount of pureblood society rules or lycanthropy stigma could ruin that for you. You were home.

They were your home.

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq @1-800-wh0re4reid @liviessun @ae3ther @de-duchess @wolf-phoenix-lover

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annwrites · 2 days

Text

dance with me.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & billy run into one another at the halloween party

— tags: dancing, billy pining

— tw: drinking

— word count: 2,390

— a/n: this is an outtake from my thoroughfare series. i know it prob doesn't make much sense for it to be, as this takes place at the end of october, & that series clearly takes place in the middle of summer, & i stated in it that billy had only been in hawkins 2 months before he & reader ran away. but we're going to pretend like it fits anyway lol.

if any of this is inaccurate to what happened during the ep which featured the halloween party, it's bc it's been a few yrs since i watched season 2.

pay attention for an easter egg (song they dance to)!

You have half-a-mind to turn back around and go back home. But in no way is being there preferable, either. You’d vowed to yourself that you were going to have a good time tonight. Well, at the very least a halfway-decent one. Even if you were completely out of your depth—your comfort zone. You’d never gone to a party before. Solitude was where you thrived. Around other people you just sort of…froze up.

But, he’d been on a tear this last week. Had broken a couple of plates and a picture frame in a drunken fury just two nights ago. You needed a night away—just a few hours—a reprieve. Even if it was going to be surrounded by other drunks. At least these were fellow kids, if nothing else. And they wouldn’t be wanting to take things out on you if it turned out alcohol didn’t suit them. Unlike someone else.

You glance to Nancy at your side, then to the domicile ahead—thumping music blaring loud enough that you can hear it from the sidewalk—and silently follow along behind her as the two of you head inside.

Once you’ve passed the threshold, she turns back to you. “I’m going to look for Steve! He should be here already!” She yells over the deafening rock music.

“Want me to help and look for him, too?”

She nods fervently, and the two of you split up.

You make your way through throngs of people—couples making out, friends joking with one another; a boy who’s already half-drunk nearly spilling his beer on you—before you spot a door leading into the backyard.

Unless he’s outside…Nancy may very-well have to find him all on her own, because you were absolutely not going back in there just to be squished between sweaty, hormonal adolescent bodies again.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

That opinion only cements itself further when you step onto the back patio, shutting the door firmly behind you, and look straight ahead to see Billy Hargrove doing a keg-stand as a crowd of your peers stand around him chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug!”. He stands back on two feet once again, puckering his lips, spitting beer into the air and you roll your eyes. Those surrounding him start cheering and patting him on the back.

Like getting drunk is something to celebrate.

And of course he’s shirtless. Because a leather jacket and jeans is obviously a Halloween costume.

Just as you begin to turn away, arms now crossed, wondering if you shouldn’t now go back inside, Billy stops licking his lips, and laughing, or so much as paying attention to the other obnoxious idiots surrounding him when he sets eyes on you.

Why the hell were you wearing pajamas to a damn Halloween party? Was that really supposed to constitute being a costume? Then again, he shouldn’t be complaining. You’re not wearing bottoms. He suddenly decides he likes whoever the hell the character is.

He shoves past those around him—which even includes numerous girls with hearts in their eyes—and makes his way over to you instead.

He grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to him as he stares down at you with a smirk. “Well, well, look who it is.”

His eyes trail from your bare legs, back to your eyes, and you feel ready to squirm away from his grip.

He cocks his head to the side then. “Who the hell are you dressed as, anyway?”

You pull your arm away from him. “Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

He raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”

You shrug. “She was an actress. Before our time.”

He gives you a sultry look. “Well, whoever she was, she was clearly one hot chick.”

You blink up at him for a moment.

“What? Not going to try and guess who I am?”

He watches as your eyes trail along his body and his jaw clenches at the sight of you taking him in. He hopes you like what you see.

Until you gaze back up to him with an indifferent look on your face, the fire quickly extinguished.

“I feel like you just wanted an excuse to walk around shirtless.”

A corner of his mouth tugs down in a frown. “You’re one to talk.”

“I have a shirt on.”

He glances down to your legs, then back into your eyes with a raised brow. “Somebody specific you’re trying to catch the attention of tonight, sweetheart?”

He leans an arm against the side of the house.

“Not really,” you reply looking behind him.

“C’mon, one guess. Maybe I’ll reward you if you get it right.”

You look back at him then, and he can’t believe he’s actually piqued your interest with that.

“Do I get to choose the prize?”

He heart skips a beat. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

You study him again. “Let me guess… A greaser, from The Outsiders?”

He licks his lips. “But which one?”

It’s so incredibly obvious. At least to you. “Dallas?”

“Winner, winner,” he says, leaning the least bit toward you. “So, what’s that pretty lil’ heart desire?”

“Stop pulling my hair in class.”

He snorts. “That’s likely.”

You roll your eyes. Waste of time, clearly.

“He was damn good in that movie, wasn’t he?” He just throws it out there to keep you a bit longer.

“Hm?” You ask, looking behind him again.

“Matt Dillon.”

You look back at him and he could swear you blush a little. On the one hand, maybe he should feel flattered since he’d dressed as his character. On the other, it’s clearly the actor that you have the hots for. Not him. No, never fucking him. Why does he try so goddamn hard with you?

“The book was better. But Matt certainly made the movie worth watching,” you say with a smile.

He frowns. “What? No love for my man, Ponyboy?” The blond, he wants to say, but doesn’t.

You glance behind him again.

“If you’re lookin’ for fun, I’m right here, honey,” he says, smirking.

“I’m looking for Steve, actually.”

His smile drops instantly, arms crossing. “The hell do you want with him?”

You glance back to Billy for just a moment. “Stay golden, Billy,” you stay, going to step past him, until he grabs your wrist.

You look down to where he’s now touching you. Gently, but firmly, then back up to him. “Let go.”

He sneers. “The fuck is it with you, huh? I mean, what is it with him? What does he have that-” He stops himself short and watches as your brows furrow.

Too much. He’d drank too much.

“You realize he’ll never go for you, right? Too stuck up Nancy’s bony-ass instead.”

Did…did he think you liked Steve? Oh God…did Nancy ever think that as well? “I’m trying to help Nancy find him.”

He softens a little, thumb rubbing against your wrist. “I say we leave her to it, then.”

His smirk returns and you mentally groan at whatever is about to come out of his smart mouth.

“How about you and I take off and go make our own party?”

You roll your eyes, wrenching your wrist away. “I’d really rather not.”

He watches as you walk away, enjoying the view.

It’s perhaps an hour later before Billy finally bothers coming inside, looking for a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, and it’s after he’s found one that he enters the living room and catches sight of you sitting on the couch, staring up at Nancy and Steve wrapped around each other, talking.

His jaw clenches at the longing look in your eyes. Like Steve is something fucking special to be had.

He has no idea it’s just you thinking of how lonely you feel in comparison; wishing you had someone of your very own to love.

He glances down to your hands, a red solo cup held between them, then back to you. Getting drunk to soothe your aching fucking heart, huh?

He takes a swig of his beer, thinking that it makes two of you.

He pushes past others to get to you, before plopping down beside you on the couch. And you don’t even bother looking at him.

Meanwhile, at least three other girls are eyeing him up from across the room. He doesn’t so much as wink at them before turning back to you.

He grabs the cup from your hands, which finally gets your attention.

“Hey!”

He takes a drink, then holds it away from him with a confused expression before shoving it back against your chest. “Water? Really? You come to a party and get yourself a cup of water, you’re that big of a fucking square?”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip.

He swirls the neck of his beer bottle in front of your face. “C’mon, try some, sweetheart. Might like it.”

“No, thanks,” you say, looking back to your friends.

He pushes his luck further. “Never know how good somethin’ can taste until you’ve put it in your mouth.”

You groan in frustration, standing, heading back outside then, just wanting him to leave you alone.

He of course follows you out, watching as you seat yourself at a table on the back patio, resting your chin against your fist, watching others dance.

He considers for a moment, taking another drink, then setting the bottle on the table, holding his hand toward you. “Dance with me.”

Your head jerks up and in his direction then. “What?”

He shrugs. “One-time offer, sweetie.”

You glance down to his hand, then back up to him.

He grows serious then. “Just dance with me. Please.”

This side of him you don’t get to see often. And you think the same thing now about it as you usually do when he shows it to you: you feel like, somehow, you’re the only one he gives it to. You’re unsure why, exactly. But you don’t dare ask.

Instead, you slide your palm into his—you could swear his hand is shaking a little—and he leads you into the middle of the yard.

Just as he positions the two of you in the middle of it, the song changes. Bob Dylan humming the beginning of the tune.

Billy rolls his eyes, staring upward. “Of course it changed to a fucking slow song.”

…And you know the moment is over.

You go to step away, until he twines his fingers between yours, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t say to leave.”

You’re not sure why you’re even giving him the time of day, but granting him moments like these, you feel, are important. He’s trying. To be decent. And if you shut it down—these moments are already rare enough as it is—he’ll one day stop trying altogether. You hope this can be a step toward him being just a bit more mature going forward. To you, if no one else.

You go to wrap your arms around his neck until he shakes his head. “None of that junior-high shit. You’re dancing with a man, not a boy.”

You stare up at him at the statement.

He positions your right hand atop his shoulder, taking your other in his left, placing his right against the small of your back. “Need to be a bit closer, doll,” he says, pulling you toward him, making you now chest-to-chest.

You ignore your heart beating just a bit faster now.

He begins to sway back and forth, staring down at you. The look in his eyes that of…tenderness? No. He’s just tired, or he’s drank too much. He’s not looking at you any kind of way. Is he?

He then presses his forehead to yours. “You look really pretty tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”

His eyes flutter closed.

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Thank you,” you reply quietly. You return the compliment. “You look very handsome.”

His lip twitches. “Me or Dillon?”

You shake your head lightly. “You, Billy.”

He hums his response, fingers at the small of your back curling inward, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

He pulls back the least bit, resting his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes again with you tucked under his chin, your head against his chest. He could stay like this for… He can’t think like that. It’s just one short dance. That’s all. It means nothing.

Until he looks down at you again.

And you look up at him with wide eyes.

His heart pounds, his hand shaking in yours as he begins to lean down. If you let him… This could be the start of something. Even if he knows he’ll do anything he can to destroy it. Because that’s what he does. To anything good he touches.

Your breaths come in short and shallow, your lips only slightly parted, your heart fluttering… And then you hear someone calling your name.

And the moment is over.

Billy stares behind you, expression morphing into seething hatred. “Always fucking ruining everything,” you hear him mutter.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He lets go of you then, stepping past you.

“Y/N, hey, it’s time to go. Nancy’s ready to head home, so I thought I’d give you a ride, too.”

Steve then catches sight of Billy, who’s heading straight toward him and does not look happy.

“What the fuck is it with you? Always in the goddamn way. I’ve fuckin’ had it! If she wants a ride home, I’ll give her one. She doesn’t need her white fuckin’ knight right now.”

Just as Billy raises his fist, Steve unable to do anything more than brace for impact, you quickly throw yourself between the two of them before he swings.

You stare up at him, arms outstretched on either side of you, trying to shield Steve, knowing—rather, hoping—Billy won’t do anything so long as you—or, at the very least, a girl—is in the way.

Billy stares down at you, teeth clenched, fist hovering next to his head, then glances back to Steve.

“Billy, don’t,” you say softly.

He squeezes his fist more tightly.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, a mere whisper.

His face falls, then, as well as his fist. He swallows thickly. His eyes search yours, looking for the girl he’d had in his arms just moments ago, but sees she’s taken another’s side now.

“Fuck you,” he says before stomping away.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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